A/N: Well, this is my FIRST EVER KH fanfic. I am so excited! XD Anyway, please be nice! Thanks and I hope you have a good read. :D
Disclaimer: Don't own KH, do own the idea for this story, don't profit from this work of fanfiction.
Cure
Chapter 1
The floorboards creaked at me as I trudged along the corridor, stepping on each one in turn. I couldn't care less. People gawked at me as I passed by their crowded rooms, and I looked up every once in a while, catching the eye of a couple of people who ducked nervously back into their rooms, not looking out at me again. I rolled my eyes. People could be so dramatic. I stared down at my piece of paper gloomily, noting the number printed on it, and proceeded to the door, labelled with that matching number.
When I opened it, I felt myself plummet to the ground, a heavy weight of someone on top of me. I didn't speak a word, and reflexively grabbed them and shoved them off me. All these years of being alone on the streets had boosted my defence skills. Funny about that…
"Hi, I'm your roommate, Demyx!" A cheerful voice chimed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at the person who'd tackled me, and sighed. This was one of those people that completely drove me mad. Blonde, blue eyed and constantly happy and hyper. I sighed, dropping my duffel bag to the floor.
"I assume you're Axel," A deeper voice asked from the corner. I almost jumped, only just realising his presence. A short, silver haired male walked slowly to the middle of the room, looking bored and holding a thick book. Great, another one of those people I couldn't stand. I grunted a response and turned to my small bed and duffel bag. I really wasn't in the mood for all this hubbub.
"That's my boyfriend, Zexion," I heard Demyx explain cheerfully from behind me. I could almost hear him smiling. How old was this kid anyway? He acted as if he was about five. It took me a minute to register that he'd said 'my boyfriend,' to which I shrugged. I couldn't care less. These were two less people who would look at me strangely for my personal preference. (A/N: In other words, Axel is gay too…)
"Dem, I think that the frosty gravity defying newbie isn't going to speak quite soon, so I'll see you later." I glanced over my shoulder to see Zexion squeeze Demyx's hand and move out the door, and I frowned. Was he making fun of my hair?
"So…" Demyx jumped onto his bed and splayed out across it, directing his gaze at me. "How'd you get that bruise on your face?" He asked, and I clenched my jaw. Great. He was a curious one.
"Don't worry about it," I muttered, collapsing into my own bed. It was late, I was tired, and I wasn't up for 20 questions right now. Demyx didn't seem to mind though. Claps for him… "Were you in a fight or something? You look pretty beat up." I sighed again, scratching my chin. What did he care if I had bruises everywhere? I'd been living in the streets for the majority of my life that I could remember, and now I was here at the orphanage, just like him.
"Leave me alone," I mumbled grumpily, rolling over and closing my eyes. I didn't care that the light was still on. I was tired, so I would sleep. Demyx continued to question me, even though it was obvious to him that I wasn't actually going to answer. I fidgeted slightly on the bed. Never again would I sleep in black, torn jeans, but when I decided I was as close to comfortable I could get, I drifted off into blackness.
"Get up Axel!" Demyx cheered, opening the curtains so I could receive a painful jet of sunshine straight in my eyes. Curse Demyx to hell. I rolled over, immersing myself in my bedclothes, and squeezed my eyes shut. My life was already crappy. Couldn't I just sleep and shut it out for a little longer?
"Wakey, wakey!" Demyx sang, and I almost screamed, shooting out of bed. Icy water made my fiery hair slump, and my face dripped, soaked with wet droplets. "Axel, come out of the bathroom. Breakfast is in half an hour." I had half a mind to kick the door down and throttle him, demanding to know why he didn't wake me up half an hour later, but I resisted. Although my temper was still there, "You bastard! I don't have any other clothes to wear!"
I threw open the bathroom door with a slam, and glared fiery daggers at Demyx. He flinched for a moment, when our bedroom door flung open. "Good morning Dem. What's wrong with slumpy hair?" I turned my glare on the silverette standing in the doorway, but he didn't even flinch. Curse him as well. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring moodily at the couple who were in the room with me.
"Let's get down to breakfast!" Demyx decided for us, almost skipping to his boyfriend and subtly taking his hand. "I think you're forgetting, Demyx, that I have no other clothes to wear."
Demyx stared back at me, his big blue eyes widening and then a grin broke out across his face, "You can wear my stuff. It's over in that wardrobe." He pointed to something behind me, and there was indeed a wardrobe behind me when I turned around to examine the space, but when I glanced around the room again, both Demyx and Zexion were gone. I sighed heavily. This was going to be the beginning of a beautiful life, I thought sarcastically, pulling open the wardrobe.
I scowled at the contents. Most of the clothing was either blue or white. Hardly anything black. Such a shame… I rifled through Demyx's things, finding only one shirt that seemed to fit me. It was white. Yay… At least my jeans weren't that wet. Demyx had mostly got my torso when he'd splashed me with his drink bottle. After squeezing into the almost-too-tight shirt of Demyx's, I moved back over to my duffel bag, and unzipped it, half smiling as I caught the glimpse of a black jacket inside. I pulled it out gratefully and slipped it on.
My hair dried surprisingly fast, and was back to its usual fiery, red, gravity defying self, and then I remembered the bruises on my face and neck. So, I'd gotten into some fights on the street. It could've been worse. At least I'd known how to defend myself; I was a pretty good fighter. I shrugged, not really caring. I'd never had to cover myself up before. Why start now?
"There he is!" Demyx grinned, pointing to me as I entered the small hall where everyone was dining. The soft sounds of clanging cutlery and babble of voices died slightly as people looked over to where I'd entered the proximity. This was just great. Later on, I would happily throttle Demyx when no one was looking.
I grabbed a tray and slid it along the thin bench. All the food looked somewhat repulsive, and I wrinkled my nose, finally settling for an apple and something that represented soup. When I looked up to locate a seat, my eyes came to rest on Demyx and Zexion, and both of them were looking over at me. I sighed, moving over to their small table, and planting myself down in an uncomfortable looking seat.
"Morning Axel," Demyx smiled. I grunted, eyeing my soup.
"That'll probably kill you," Zexion said matter-o-factly. I looked up and him, and he shrugged, returning to his book. I wondered how Demyx could constantly hang around this guy. Maybe he made up for the lack of enthusiasm Zexion had…
I decided to pick the safer route, and took a bite of my apple, sinking my teeth into the juicy green fruit.
"So, when did you get here?" Demyx asked conversationally. I shrugged in response. "Last night. Just before you saw me."
I glanced up and caught Zexion looking at me. "So, beanstalk can talk." I glared at him, taking another bite of apple. Demyx continued speaking, ignoring my irritation.
"Will you answer my question about your bruises from last night?" Demyx asked curiously, his eyes skimming over my neck and cheek. I fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Street gang," was my short answer, and I heard Demyx sigh. "Ah." And that marked the end of the awkward conversation. When I decided that my apple had no significantly tasty part to it anymore, I discarded it, standing and then exiting the hall.
I was surprised that Demyx didn't call out for me to stay, but his silence was understandable. I was new, strange and bruised. Why would someone want to willingly exist in my presence?Besides, he probably didn't want to be alone with me, considering he splashed me with water to wake me up. I hated water. Actually, I hated the cold more. And, he'd mixed cold, water and me, together, which resulted in a very ticked off Axel.
I pushed open the thin wooden door to the room I was sharing with Demyx, and sighed. My black shirt lay, wet, on the end of my bed, just as I'd left it. When I picked it up, I glowered. It wasn't any drier than it had been before breakfast. I tucked the wet glob of blackness under my arm and marched back out the door again.
Outside, the sun was bright, and when I exited the dank building, I exhaled, relaxing already. Beams of light tickled my skin, and warmth etched its way back into my body. The wet patch that was forming from my sopping shirt was what distracted me, and I exhaled in frustration, looking around the orphanage's garden to see if there was a washing line handy.
Sure enough, standing innocently several metres away, was an old hills hoist set in the grassy garden. It looked oddly out of place. I shrugged, slinging my black shirt over one of the lines, and collapsing in the grass. The sun caressed my face and I sighed, lying back and putting my arms comfortably behind my head.
"Axel." I jumped and opened my eyes slowly, staring up at the figure that hovered over me. It was Zexion.
"What," I grumbled, closing my eyes again. I failed to notice the obvious. "It's dark you moron. Get back inside. Demyx is worried sick about you." My stomach turned over and the feeling made me tighten my jaw. Demyx was like my brother, Reno. Always worried about me. That's what had gotten him killed.
"I'll be up in a minute…" I muttered, but he heard me, and turned to leave. "Hurry up. We've got injections tomorrow."
"Huh?" I looked up, but Zexion was already gone. Creepy. I scratched my head and wriggled uncomfortably in Demyx's white shirt. It was too tight. I sighed, grabbing my own shirt off the line near me. It was cool, but not wet anymore.
I tucked it under my arm again and proceeded back inside. Not only was I a strange, bruised outsider to this place, I was a strange, bruised outsider who hated needles. Great. I looked forward to tomorrow…
A/N: Thankyou for reading. Please, before you click on something else which takes you away from this page, could you review? Please? All you have to do is click the green button below! Thanks! :D
Expect slow updates… I'm sick, and my holidays are ending… such a tragedy…