Chapter One: A New Fate - Locked Up Nice And Tight

Life – A novel concept – He often wondered what it would be like to have one.

August 13th 1993 – An unfortunate date – The birth of the infinite burden that nobody wanted to deal with.

August 1st 1998 – Judgement – The death of those who brought this burden into the world.

August 2nd 1998 through near-present day – Admittance into an orphanage – Admittance into school – Grades plunging – First foster family – Failing classes and fights in school – Attempted escape from foster home – Expulsion – Rejection of foster family – Fights in orphanage – Admittance into second orphanage – Second foster family – Admittance into second school – Zero attendance – Fights ending in rejection of second foster family – Expulsion – Successful escape from orphanage – Fights and stealing in public places – Admittance in third orphanage – and so on…

Roxas was lifeless it seemed. Lifeless, soulless, careless, and with such a busy schedule. On weekdays he spent his time hating his foster family or his orphanage, hating school, skipping classes, making escape attempts, and fighting those who just made it worse. During weekends, he spent his time hating his family or foster home, escaping, stealing, fighting, hating the silence, and in his free time, hating himself.

Roxas' parents were killed while he was young, and since then he's spent his days running. He ran from orphanages, he ran from home, he ran from authority figures, and he even ran from those who offered him friendship. It's not that he was scared, he wasn't, but he hated the world for taking his parents away, and he hated his parents for letting it. Roxas hadn't truly felt fear or anger in years, despite his fights, and he most definitely didn't feel happiness… at least not that he could remember. He always felt empty, like a shell except with the nagging existence of mixed feelings that he felt he shouldn't have. He couldn't tell what these feeling were, but he knew that they weren't happy. It was almost as though he had a heart, but it was incomplete or distant. He never really knew if he kept running in order to find the rest of it, or to escape those mixed feelings that haunted him. He didn't know why he ran, but he did. He had no reason not to; No one would miss him. After a run-in with juvie, however, the 'powers that be' decided that things had to change.

January 1st 2008 – Roxas is being transported to a high security prison by means of a long yellow patty wagon. The four-wheeled monster that he has become oh so accustomed to has an empty stomach today. The seats of the other prisoners who would normally be riding this creature, spewing rumors about this one and that one, throwing food, punches, and paper airplanes, or being very rudely hit sharp in the forehead with any of these things, remain very bare. Roxas can see very well that there is no one returning to this prison, because there was no one who came out. This prison is no tolerance, no mercy, and no escape.

As Roxas' bus slows down to enter the tall, black, steel gates of his new prison, he catches the name out of the corner of his eye: Sunset Hill Boarding School, and in un-printed letters on an un-existent sign below, he reads to himself: 'The end of your life'. Before he has enough time to process it, Roxas is standing on his legs and they are going numb as the chilling creak of the gate closing behind him follows the sound of the bus' departure. He has always hated buses and the thought of having to ride one every morning and afternoon, but he now finds himself willing it's quick return along with a happy second chance in a world that doesn't really want him but might, just might, attempt to put up with him and save him from this cruel fate. As the gate closes, Roxas can swear that he hears millions of tiny little locks clicking, sealing his fate more and more by the second.

Already he feels pain. Already, someone has pushed forcefully passed him, knocking his books, pens and pencils, with which he knew he would be writing many wishes of death, swiftly to the floor. Roxas is stunned. For a moment he twitches and then finds the spot on his shoulder that is probably going to bruise. For some reason his eyes can not find the one responsible. He sees people, probably a lot of people, but he can't focus. He hears the sound of one of his pencils snapping under the unforgiving boot of passer-by. Still he sees no faces. He feels his senses leaving him, as he blindly fumbles for his belongings. He feels as though he can't see, or can't smell. Pencils, books, cement, and grass seem to all feel the same. He can no longer even focus enough to hear the footsteps around him, only the echo of the creaking gate and the millions of tiny locks.

As sight, feeling, smells, and sound begin to mix in Roxas' brain, he can feel all his muscles tensing, and all he wants to do is to scream out and make it all stop. Suddenly, he sees it. Not a face, but a hand reaching to the ground and gripping one of his books, gently lifting it into the air. In what seems like an instant and a slow motion blink of the eye both at the same time, the hand manages to find every one of Roxas' belongings that he had, at this point, declared lost forever in his own mind. His eyes follow the long skinny arm that is now outstretched towards him, both loosely and protectively grasping his book bag. His gaze moves up the black, smooth fabric of the sleeve, passed what looks like the side of a chain necklace sticking out of the deep hood draped over the mans' back. Finally, Roxas sees a face, and a whole head at that. The man has brilliant green eyes, accented by black eyeliner and two tattoos, one under each eye, acting as mirror images of what looks like dark blue teardrops. Even stranger is the mans' hair, as it is a bright red color spiked back into many points behind the mans head. From the front Roxas thinks that it looks like a fiery lions mane. The man wears an expression that seems impossible to read, but definitely bears a somber, cool and collected demeanor. He stares at Roxas for a moment, and than his eyebrows rise ever so slightly as he begins to speak.

"You dropped this…" He says simply. He seems to move his mouth a bit too much for what he is saying, and jostles the bag in his hand as if to indicate that he is referring to it, as obvious as it is. "…didn't you?"

After a moment, Roxas blinks his world back into perspective. He can now see people around him. He sees nobody he knows, but he DOES see them, which, by his figuring, is a great improvement. He still finds his eyes trying to lock on the red haired man standing before him. He begins to realize that he was just talked to. Was it a question? He thinks he heard 'didn't you?' He doesn't, however, know what he did or didn't do that is now in question. Feeling uncharacteristically agreeable, Roxas answers, "Yes… I did." With just a flick of his wrist, the man tosses Roxas' bag to him and turns heal. The impact of the bag nearly knocks Roxas over, but only because of his slow reaction time, which he would very much like to blame on his disorientation. "Uh," is all Roxas can get out of his mouth before he realizes that he's standing alone again. That's fine though, he thinks. He doesn't really know what he would have said anyway. He may be feeling strange and insignificant, but a 'thank you' is still beneath him. There had been times that he would've thrown a punch at such a person for messing with his stuff, or perhaps the thought would just cross his head and exhale as a sort of gritty scoff. Even still, he's at a new school and he can't let his first impression be that of a softy.

"Hey, New kid!" An older teen calls out, approaching with a definite tough-guy attitude. He is a blond kid, obviously in a higher grade, and both his posture and his expression scream 'I'm superior'. By his sides are two other kids that are about the same age. "What is discipline?" He continues.

"Uh…" Roxas starts and is quickly cut off.

"No," The kid interrupts with a rude finger pointed at Roxas' face. "You don't know yet, 'cause you just got here. And I'M going to take on the great task of instructing you." He pounds a hand on his chest with a grin that is either self-impressed or very sadistic before continuing, "Here at Sunset Hill, the rules are the words of God, and we," He gestures to himself and his company, "are the hands of God, enforcing his every will." Roxas pauses in confusion. What is he hearing from this guy? He wants to move on and just ignore it, but what with the three-on-one odds and his recent disorientation, he figures it's best to stay and listen. "Now," The older kid continues once more, "the first rule of action in this school is to pay your respects to the headmaster, and I don't think you've done that yet." He pauses, "Every second that you spend looking stupid in that spot gives me more reason to take a rougher approach to your 'lessons'. Do I make myself clear?"

"We ain't kiddin', y'know?" The darker, muscle man to his left chimes in.

"Five seconds." The gray-haired girl to his right ads.

Quickly forgetting his tough guy mindset, Roxas steps past the older kids and starts towards the main building of the school. He has never had a pleasant experience meeting the principal of the school, and now it's law that he goes and talks to one right away.

Roxas' first impression of the school as he walks inside is that it has very reflective floors. He doesn't really look at much else. As he walks his eyes meet that of his reflection, looking equally as displeased and than surprised as Roxas somehow finds the headmasters office without ever looking up. He has always had a sort of luck with finding things, but he also always seems to leave his luck at the door when he goes into places like this.

After but a moment, Roxas is standing in a well-adorned room, dressed with many bookshelves, maps, tapestries, and paintings. Directly across from Roxas is an older man in a red robe. He has blond hair that has now formed itself into a well-cut beard under his jaw. The man's face appears surprisingly gentle for a principal and, glancing up at Roxas from something he's writing with a quill pen, he gives a smile that reveals the aged marks beside his eyes that indicate smiling over many years. This face, Roxas thinks, is exactly the same face as the one he's wearing in the massive painting of himself that hangs about seven feet above his desk. Strangely, this painting is the only one out of five in the room that isn't a picture of a mouse.

"Ah, and you must be Roxas." The man speaks in a stern, low-pitched voice. Roxas says nothing despite the evident expectation directed at him, "As you may very well have guessed, I am Ansem, lead teacher and headmaster of Sunset Hill. Some here refer to me as Ansem the wise." He takes an unnecessarily long moment to laugh at this statement while Roxas tries to figure out where the humor is hiding.

"Uh…" Roxas begins.

"Do not 'uhhhh' my boy. 'Uhhhh'ing is not one of the signature traits of a Sunset Hill academe." He shakes his finger, "You must speak loudly, charismatic and decisive."

"I'M SORRY, SIR. THE KIDS OUTSIDE SENT ME, SIR." Roxas practically yells in a mockingly sarcastic interpretation of charisma.

"Hmmm… better, but you still need work." Ansem sighs as he leans back in his chair, he then pushes himself to his feet and begins to walk around his desk towards the new student, "Ah yes… the Prefects. You will learn to appreciate their authority here, my boy. After all," He pats Roxas on the back and turns him toward the door, "They're the ones who keep the peace here at Sunset Hill. Just keep out of trouble and you should have no quarrel with them. Now, why don't you go drop that bag of yours off at the dorms? The rest of your belongings have already been moved there." With a nudge, the smiling principal sends Roxas out of his office, "Oh, and Roxas?" he calls from behind, "I here that you are quite the roamer… for now, let's relegate that roaming to in campus, shall we?"

As Roxas leaves the main building to find his dorm, he is met with the sadistic, grinning glances of the same kids who sent him inside in the first place. For now, they're leaving him alone. At least there's that, Roxas thinks. When he finds the boys' dorm, he walks in to find a group of three kids huddling around some sort of card game, and a fourth one off to the side sitting in what looks to be Roxas' checkered bean bag chair.

"Get the hell off my chair!" are Roxas' first words. The boy, dressed in baggy green carpenter pants and a black, skull print shirt, hops to his feet. His blonde hair and brown eyes make Roxas think of a banana.

"Oh! So this is your chair, huh? Comfy." The boy grins and walks towards Roxas, "Name's Hayner, and you're officially on my turf." An outstretched hand is only met with Roxas' glare.

It's a new school, Roxas thinks to himself, Don't punch, Don't Punch… he didn't know it was your seat. Don't bruise the banana.

"And… you are?" Hayner cocks his head.

"Roxas." He starts, "And this is the boys' dorm… not your 'turf'."

"Oh hoh!" Hayner laughs, "I didn't know that! The new kid is teaching me stuff already!" His sarcastic tone only makes it harder for Roxas to hold himself back. "Yes, okay, smarty. It's the boys' dorm. It's also my turf, and if I like you, it can be your turf too." He starts to pace back and forth in front of Roxas, "As of now, you are on test drive mode, and I am your test friend, here to show you the ropes and make sure you get by."

"You?" Roxas scoffs, "My friend?"

"Trust me, bud," Hayner leans on Roxas's shoulder and is brushed off by Roxas' hand, "Here, you're gonna need some friends." He starts towards the door, "Come on. It's Sunday so we don't have any classes. It's the best time to give you the grand tour."

Hayner walks ahead of Roxas who grudgingly decides to follow him. The brown-eyed boy points straight ahead to begin the tour.

"As you probably already know, that's the school's main building. Most of the classes take place in there. The caf's in there too, and the principal's office. On the other side of that building is the girls' dorm. It's like a promised land that's just out of reach." He sighs to himself as they approach the school, then stops and points to his right, "Over there is the 'impassible' gate to the school."

"Why'd you sound so insincere there?" Roxas asks, actually interested.

"I'll show you later." He points to his left, "Back there you got some basketball courts, tennis fields, a few resting places with benches and a gazebo, the library, the gym, the football field, expensive housing and… uh…oh! And the shops for mechanics. The bookstore is over there too. I'm sure you'll make your way over there some time, but for now I'm too lazy."

"I thought this was supposed to be a tour?" Roxas crosses his arms.

"Quit complaining and keep up." Hayner walks inside the school, through a couple of hallways, and into a large open area with many seats.

Around the edges of the room are an assortment of lines prepared for the distribution of various school foods. "This is the cafeteria! We haven't had any deaths around the school that we can link directly to the food, so I think you should be safe."

"Greaaaaat…" Roxas rolls his eyes.

"Emergency regurgitation stations are located nearby just in case." Hayner points to the restrooms and then continues into the cafeteria, "Now, it's already mess time so I should be able to point some of the groups out to you." His eyes scour the room and then he points, "The Goths and Emos hang out together. You can generally tell them apart by the 'Halloween every day' appearance and the stormy rain clouds above their heads. I think Maleficent has been elected to be their 'Queen'. Zexion over there is the Librarian's Assistant, and about the only one who wouldn't be ashamed to have that title. You'll hate him if you ever have to deal with books." He moves his finger to a different table, "The Preps are pretty easy to understand. What you see is what you get. Usually from big money, they're all about appearances. Cute girls, snobby guys… what more to say? I think that Setzer is their model representative."

Hayner looks around the room and points yet again, "The Greasers are the kings of the road. They're a little behind the times, keeping up those auto shop hobbies, but they're good at what they do, and you don't want to mess with them. Cloud's their top man, but they usually call him by his last name: Strife." He stops to think, and Roxas attempts to take in all the information, "The Jocks are the heads of the school. They're big, they're tough… you don't mess with them. Other than that, most of 'em aren't too pretty, and could lose a battle of smarts to a rock. I guess that doesn't hold true for their leader, Xemnas, though." Hayner grabs Roxas' arm, moves out of the cafeteria and starts walking, "Most people fall under at least one of the many Sunset Hill stereotypes, and we've even got names for the people who don't." He looks proud as they walk out of the building, "The strong people of this variety generally end up being Bullies, whereas the weak ones end up falling into the category of Unfortunates, meaning they can't fit in anywhere, and they also can't hold their own." He moves his hands as he gets into what he's talking about, "Then there are the rare exceptions to all these rules: the Nobodies. Nobodies don't fit into any category, but they are kinda overlooked or avoided, unlike Bullies or Unfortunates. Take Namine for example. She's kinda weird, always drawing, and sits by herself all the time. You'd think that that would make her prime bullying material, but the head Jock, Xemnas has a thing for her, so everyone leaves her alone. That's one way it happens."

They open the doors to the boys' dorm and walk back inside.

"Last but not least, are the Nerds!" he gestures around the room. The two boys playing the card game look up, and the girl that was watching stands to greet him.

"I'm Olette." The tomboyish girl smiles with an outstretched hand very similar to Hayner's. She has short brown hair and green eyes. Roxas instinctively ignores the handshake, but Hayner moves his hand for him. The larger boy stands up from his game, followed quickly by his scrawny friend.

"I'm Pence," The boy says, nodding. He's wearing a large baggy shirt, and equally baggy pants. On his head, he's wearing a cloth headband with a mop of messy hair sticking out from above it. It is difficult to tell whether his hair is messier than that of the boy next to him, but it is obviously less intentional. The scrawny kid standing next to him has his two arms slung behind his messy spiked hair and is rocking back and forth. His cloths seem to be a contradiction as they are adorned with chains but are colored a bright red, blue, and white. He is wearing a necklace with a crown pendant on his neck and a goofy grin on his face.

"This is Sora." Hayner introduces him, "He's one of the Unfortunates. My devious plan making skills were enough to qualify me to be at least a Nerd, and both Olette and Pence excel in their classes, but Sora is too ditzy to be a Nerd, too anti fashion to be a Prep, too happy to be a Goth or an Emo, too klutzy to be a Jock, and I'd hate to see what would happen if he tried to work in the auto shop." He shakes his head, "So we adopted him into our little group to keep him safe from the outside world."

"Nice to meet you!" Sora says, still grinning.

"Hey." Roxas answers plainly.

Roxas's gaze turns to follow the red haired man from earlier. He had entered the dorm at one point, and is now walking up the stairs to the second level.

"Who's that?" he asks inquisitively.

"That?" Hayner looks over as the red haired man walks out of sight, "That's Axel…" he frowns at Roxas's interest, "He's the pyromaniac psycho of the school. Axel's a Nobody, but for different reasons than Namine."

"Different reasons?" Roxas asks, and Hayner nods.

"Yeah. A few years back, some kid made a crack at Axel thinking he was better than everyone else. A couple nights later, there was a fire in the boys' dorm near that kids room." He shakes his head with a sigh, "Luckily nobody got hurt, but the kid dropped out of school and we never heard from him again."

"I think he left the state." Pence chimes in with a raised finger.

"Anyway," Hayner continues, "Nobody could link the fire to Axel, but the students all know it was him. Since then, no one's dared to bother him. Heck, people avoid him purposefully."

"After his last roommate, Demyx, had his fourth nightmare about being burned alive, they moved him out." Pence starts, "Now Axel is the only one in these dorms who gets the entire room to himself!"

"Anyway," Hayner begins again, "I'd stay away from him if I were you, especially given your behavior."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Roxas tenses, "Besides, he picked up my bag when someone knocked into me earlier. He seemed nice enough."

"Picked up your bag?" Hayner laughs, "That's a shame. Every new kid gets one nice deed out of Axel and that's about it. Sounds like yours was a lamer." He shakes his head, "Well… I'm gonna go grab us some grub. Why don't you unpack your stuff in your room? It won't last too long out here."

"Grab me a soda, would ya?" Pence raises his arm.

"Sure." He looks back at Roxas, "I'll teach you some more when I get back." Roxas looks at Hayner and gives a quick, uninterested nod. He then turns his focus back to the staircase where the red haired man had been.

Axel, huh?