Thunderstorm
A field.
A meadow. Flowers.
Grass. Pleasant and cool grass.
Her.
Running. Sweating.
Them.
Chasing.
Her.
Stealing.
Snatching.
Ripping.
Tearing.
Crying.
Her.
Darkness.
The gentle pitter-patter of the pouring rain gently touched the glass window, each small droplet colliding with the hard surface, the very glass trembling as it did so. A man in a large black cloak absent mindedly glided his body near the window, his feet not making any noises as they touched the cold ground. As he moved his tall form towards the window, he seated himself down on the small ledge, looking down at the rain swept world below him. Small ripples were being made in the large puddles that had formed, each droplet viciously splashing into the ground, spreading it chaotic energy everywhere.
The man in the hood turned slightly as he drew a large pallid blue instrument and began to pluck the strings emptily. Each sound the vibrating strings made brought a slight joy to his heart. They seemed to pierce the wailing darkness of the world and also seemed to gently resonate with the pouring rain outside. The Nobody stared out at the pouring rain with a dull smile on his face. He loved the rain more than anything else as it embodied a deep type of peace and freedom. A part of him knew that all emotions that were felt inside his body were impossible and fake. However, another part of him viewed those thoughts as impossible. Though he didn't have a heart, he still had a mind, and at least that counted.
A melodious tune that was both melancholy and joyous loomed out from the sitar as the man threw back his hood revealing a young and unusually sad face. The man in the black hood was nothing but a boy that wasn't a day over 17. After all, mere shells of hearts could not age, nor could they sleep or eat. Throughout the years Xenmas and the others had watched those with hearts with a small envy. Each and every one of Organization 11 couldn't partake in any human tasks. It was painful to just view others as they blissfully enjoyed their lives. But, that was why the Organization was formed in the first place; to share the hatred and envy of those who had hearts. They were like a family, even though they didn't act like it at all.
It was extremely true that members didn't get along at all. In fact, Demyx (that was what they called him now, or so he had been told.) was fortunate enough to be one of the members who wasn't despised or hated, while Marluxia often fought with other members (and lost quite terribly due to his inexperience). Still though, what Xaldin had said the previous day still troubled him. The man had called him useless, meaningless baggage that was to be disregarded. Those very words had pierced Demyx's heart, though he knew quite clearly that he didn't have one. However, what he had left of one still burned within his body with slight anger.
Sure, he had screwed up a few missions and was by far the weakest member of all 11 of the Organization, but hey; he had tried his best, always trying to put what was best for the Organization first. He wasn't very good at fighting and all he could do was create small water clones that, given enough time, would explode and immerse the area in water. Unfortunately, many foes could easily destroy these clones in the given time, forcing Demyx to unleash his amazing second technique on them; running.
Thanks to his affinity with water and the portals that the Organization used, Demyx could easily escape quickly, using clever decoys to distract his enemies while he disappeared back into the World that Never Was through his portals. Demyx was naïve and easy to deceive as he would often engage in long conversations with his foes, distracting himself. That factor alone separated him from the rest of the Organization and made him feel like an outcast.
The distant thumping of the rain could still be heard through the thick glass as it continued its assault, each single raindrop slamming itself against the glass. Alone, they could do nothing, but together the rain was a force to be reckoned with. However, he was just another raindrop, an unwanted nuisance that could easily be swatted away.
"Man; I was better off as a heartless," he muttered to himself. "Who needs a shell like me anyways?"
Now that he thought of it, no one in the Organization thought anything of him at all. Even to them he was a nuisance and it was pure sadism that Xenmas sent him on insanely difficult missions just to see him fail. To the rest of the Organization he was dirt; a freak and nothing more. It sickened him to even think about how he even got this far into the Organization.
At first, it had been blissful arrogance. Demyx had easily drifted down the ranks, as various nobodies were taken away from him. He was reduced to using Dusks (which were "completely lame" in Demyx's own vocabulary) to do his bidding. The usual entourage of dancers that he had picked out never came when he called them much to the other member's amusement.
The other members…
As Demyx's mind crossed paths with the other members, his lower lip trembled. They were all so much better than him at everything. How could he compare to Marluxia; with his amazing scythe skills, or Luxord with his amazing luck? Axel's gift of flames was almost a wonder to Demyx's eyes and Saix's peer skill was almost as sharp as his words. After those members, it came down to the first six. All of them were practically irreplaceable and their skills were a necessity.
Sighing slightly, Demyx placed his gloved hand up to the window causing the raindrops that had gathered on the other side to gather into a focal point around his palm. He lightly guided the small ball of water around through the window until it eventually was forced down by gravity. The teen let out a cry of frustration and bent back over his sitar, his hands almost moving automatically as they touched the solid strings.
What was he even good for anyways?
That thought alone bothered him. Even a lone dusk could accomplish more than him. In fact, dusks were usually a force to be reckoned with (against innocent civilians), while Demyx was not. Though he wore a mask of naivety, it still hurt him to think that he was useless. Xaldin would placidly remind him that every time he passed the coal black haired man. In a way, Demyx loathed him and sometimes he wanted to strike the man. But he knew all too well that Xaldin was his superior in practically every way.
Hatred was a feeling that was omnipresent amongst members of the Organization and though they were called emotionless, they did have passion and memories. Memories of what it felt like to have these emotions. Some; like Xaldin, refused these emotions promptly, but others, like Demyx, cherished each and every one of them. Most of the Organization viewed Demyx's actions as pathetic, as he prioritized these memories and pathetically clung to the belief that he was a full person with a heart.
Demyx moaned under his breath as he continued to pluck the sitar strings, his fresh wound from the last Organization mission still burning. The Dusks had barely saved him from that stupid King Triton back in Atlantica. Xenmas had said that it would be a perfect opportunity for Demyx to train, as his own element surrounded him. Unfortunately for Demyx, he wasn't able to conjure any water or channel it due to the fact that he was in a body of water. The whole tail thing didn't make his life any easier. The colour pink was so completely lame.
Of course, while he was meekly fumbling around to attempt to summon his trusty sitar, the Dusks (who were gently drifting through the sea) had been spotted by the locals. It was at that moment that Demyx had received severe electrical burns from the ruler of the area and was once again forced to flee back through the darkness.
While traveling through portals, Demyx would always feel the uneasy tendrils of Darkness attacking his black cloaked form. The Dusks would disappear at this time, leaving Demyx alone in the cold darkness. The tedium of the darkness would tire the Nobody and he sometimes felt the tendrils try to pierce him. It was an uncomfortable feeling to say the least, like he was running away from his troubles.
Then again; he had always been running. Since his days as a human, he was always running away from anything. Whether it had been the law enforcement, just his problems, Demyx had been a coward at heart. Each memory was so vivid to Demyx, but it was so veiled. He could remember snippets of each part of his life that gradually grew more real as time passed. Demyx eagerly waited for the moment that the memories would become real; when the Organization entered Kingdom Hearts.
Still though, each of these memories seemed empty and void. There was a person that he had seemed to forget, someone who had been close to him back when he was known as Myde. Perhaps once he was done with the Organization, he would try to find this person and thank them properly; for what they had done to him. What they had exactly done to Demyx (or Myde, as he was called back them) was unknown to Demyx at the time, and a small bit of it fascinated him.
But that was pointless drabbling. Besides, Demyx needed to heal his wound quickly. After all, Nobodies didn't bleed; rather their shell was damaged. The Nobody put his sitar away and started to walk towards the large opening to get a potion. It didn't help the damage, as the wound was irreparable, but it did stop the pain. The sitar vanished in his hands as he extended it, the solid frame turning into bubbles of water.
Leaping off the ledge with his usual gusto, Demyx continued on his way. The deep thoughts that had been brewing within his mind had vanished and he was back into his immature nature. After all, such thoughts and emotions were frowned on in the Organization and Demyx wasn't intelligent enough to hold such futile thoughts within his head. Besides, that information was quietly tucked away in his non-existent heart, simply waiting to be unveiled when Kingdom Hearts was opened.
Humming a small tune to himself, Demyx paused as he stopped walking up the stairs. The Organization member cocked his head to the side as he looked out the window. Amid the falling raindrops there lay a single dusk, its form writhing back and forth. The very scene puzzled Demyx, as the lower ranked Nobodies never stopped moving.
Demyx walked back down to the window, staring at the creature in awe. He opened a portal of darkness behind him and he glided through it, reappearing beside the creature. Cocking his head to the side, Demyx inspected the twitching creature thoughtfully. The whole situation was impossible! How could a Dusk be so weak and deprived of energy?
Staring at the lesser Nobody bizarrely, Demyx drew his sitar. The cloaked man prodded the Nobody a little bit, watching its body squirm. The sight of the thing sickened him as it looked almost as though it were about to die.
"I'd better leave it," he muttered to himself. "Xenmas might get mad at me if I bring it in."
As Demyx turned to leave, a lightning bolt shot down behind him. The Organization member jumped, startled at the very sound of it. Being the coward he was, Demyx jumped to the wet ground, his face slamming into the concrete; a quivering mass of…well…Demyx.
"Owww…" he moaned as he clutched his nose.
He slowly rose to his feet, turning around to face the Dusk. Except…it wasn't a Dusk anymore. Lying in front of him was a bare naked girl, curled into a small ball. She had short blond hair and was breathing, if only barely.
Fearfully and quickly, Demyx poked the girl's cheek with his hand, finger gently bouncing off of a small patch of flesh. Shuddering slightly, Demyx backed away from the thing on the ground. He then turned around and ran like he usually did. Who knew what this thing was; let alone what it could do to him.
As he was seconds away from the portal that had just formed, Demyx turned around to face the dusk-turned-woman. A strange feeling went over him, a feeling that he couldn't describe at the time. However, he bent over her body and picked it up, her limp form collapsing in his arms. Demyx looked down at her naked body and shuddered again. He felt like a rapist.
But still, something about this girl was special.
"What are you?" he muttered towards her form.
His unanswered question echoed in the darkness, it's very essence collapsing in the rain. However, an answer lurked would soon approach him and it would change Demyx's life completely.
Larxene, Number 12.
