Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts

Pairings: Planned Axel/Roxas, Zexion/Demyx, Hayner/Olette.

Note: So here's te obligatory Uni story :P I'm hoping it will be more than that though. Basically I'd like to really get my teeth into developing how the characters know each other and relate to each other. I find it hard to keep going with stories I start so this is a test to see how far I can get!

Chapter 1) How Rox meets Zexy.

Always knew I'd avoid Halls when I moved to Uni. Never been one for big crowds, and it wouldn't take long for all the noise to get on my nerves. I'm not good with strangers at the best of times, and when I'm pushed, people tend to get hurt.

Back in school I usually kept to myself. I had acquaintances, people who called me their friend, but mostly I liked to spend my free time in the library. That's how I met Zexion. He could almost always be found in the far corner, surrounded by classic fiction, sitting in one of the small armchairs, back straight, with a book hiding the bits of his face not covered by a sweeping silver fringe.

We ignored each other for the most part. I would search the shelves waiting for something to catch my eye, before sitting in the opposite corner, slouching, legs hanging over the arm of my seat.

I have a feeling we never would have talked if it wasn't for Oscar Wilde. I searched back and forth across the shelves, eyes scanning through authors, only to find an empty space where his name should be. Almost missed the voice behind me.

"What are you looking for?" I turned and sure enough, there was Zexion. He wasn't even looking at me, eyes still glued to a worn copy of Frankenstein as he turned the page.

"The Picture of Dorian Grey." I shrugged. "Some other kid must have it." Without looking up Zexion reached across the small table beside him and plucked a dark blue book from the pile littered there. Casually, he tossed it onto the seat next to him.

"There." He nodded towards the seat and furrowed his brows in deep thought. With a decisive snap, he closed Frankenstein and looked up at me for the first time. "You come here a lot, don't you?"

Warily, I sat down beside him. "Yeah." It felt surreal to be talking to him, after so many hours spent as shadows in the quiet library. I waved Dorian Grey at him. "Thanks by the way."

There was an awkward moment of silence where Zexion seemed about to speak. Then, he gazed at his lap, hands tracing the worn edges of his book. It suddenly struck me that he wasn't used to making small talk. Moments later, he was back to reading.

I slumped down in my chair, crossing my feet at the ankles and propping them up on the table with a soft thud, watching for a reaction. He didn't seem to mind, lost as he was in his own world.

We read in silence for what could have been minutes or hours. And out of nowhere, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, he began to quote the words of Mary Shelly.

"Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world."

I glanced up to find him looking at me intently.

He cleared his throat. "Strange, don't you think? That so much classic horror literature should be centred on blurring the lines between light and dark?" Somehow, as he stared blankly at my face, waiting patiently for a response, I knew this was a test.

I looked back to my book and replied "Blurring what should be black and white… that's horror's territory. Maybe it takes a certain kind of mind to accept things aren't as simple as everyone seems to think. Or maybe we all just want to believe that no matter what side we find ourselves on, there's still some good left in us somewhere. Some hope for us. After all," I traced a line in Dorian Gray. "The basis of optimism is sheer terror". Nobody wants to be trapped on the losing side."

A small nod, and murmur of "...chapter 6…" He smiled, and returned to his book. "Very good. I'm Zexion by the way."

I turned to the next page and replied "Roxas."

We never talked much, but what we said always left me thinking. He was quiet and shy, but little by little I learned things about him. He was 2 years older than me. Barely attended any classes, but still achieved perfect As thanks to a flawless memory. More than anything it seemed his analytical mind was always working, no matter how absorbed he seemed to be in a book. He missed nothing.

It became tradition to meet in our corner, walls of books hiding us away from the rest of the world. We weren't afraid of silence, and that's probably why we got on so well. Sometimes hours would pass before a thought provoking quote or question broke through the quiet. It wasn't so much that it made us feel clever, it was just our way of passing the time. The library was the one place we could feel comfortable and truly be ourselves, free of small talk and forced, insubstantial conversations.

Our usual routine was broken only once. We were discussing how strange it was that Dr Frankenstein's creature never questioned his own existence before others refused to accept his 'humanity'. A shadow fell across our desk, cast by a tall man with scars running across his face. His lips curled into a smirk that he tossed over his shoulder to a group of students watching with cruel smiles on their faces. He looked back to us, confidence and amusement dancing in the eye that wasn't covered by a black patch.

"What's your deal? Holled up in here every day with your plays and – " he clasped his hands together, batting his eyelashes "-poetrrrryyy". He nodded at Zexion, who was still reading, seemingly uninterested in Scarface's presence. "You're never in class these days, Pretty Boy. Why is that?" He leaned towards me, single eye squinting. I fought back the irrational urge to call him Popeye. "You two gay for each other or something?" He cracked his knuckles just in case it wasn't obvious enough that his intentions were hostile.

Zexion closed his book and set it down carefully before looking up at the guy – a classmate, I presumed – with obvious distaste.

"People have been talking." I nearly rolled my eyes. Zexion couldn't care less what people thought.

He sent a slight smile towards the book in my hands – it was still Dorian Gray – I've never been able to read as fast as him. The guy's a machine.

"There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about." He pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and didn't even blink when he was roughly grabbed by his shirt and pulled towards the man's face. I tensed, ready to rush in. Only Zexion's deadpan expression stopped me. Had this sort of thing happened to him before?

"Don't talk to me like that, you freak. Don't you know who I am?"

Zexion sighed, looking bored. His eyes traced the scars on the man's face as his free hand tapped 'Frankenstein' on the desk."A miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself."

"What did you say?"

"Did you not hear or not understand?"

"Queer. Stop hiding behind your quotes like a geek. What the hell's your problem?" I nearly laughed at Zexion's raised eyebrow.

"To define is to limit." The man's fist twisted in Zexion's shirt.

"You making fun of me?"

"Merely quoting good literature. 'Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault."

The man drew back a fist as Zexion slowly let a sharp grin settle on his face. The change was instant, and sent a jolt down my spine. This wasn't just some defenceless bookworm. I stood up, nerves tingling in excitement. This would be interesting. Zexion glanced my was and I crossed my arms casually, determined not to be outdone. He wasn't the only one who could show off. Hiding hid the amusement in my voice I tapped Scarface's balled fist "A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies."

"Are you threatening me?" He asked, a vein throbbing viciously in his temple. He shot his fist towards me. I caught his wrist and twisted it up and sideways. He spluttered as I dodged behind him, moving lightning fast I locked his arm by his neck. Leaning close, I thought of Treasure Island and whispered "Dead men don't bite."

He let go of Zexion, who calmly smoothed the creases out of his shirt, and sat down to continue reading. I kicked the back of the man's knees, sending him to the ground with a cry. I heard footsteps coming towards me. God, his friends were slow to jump in on the action. I pulled the man up towards me by his shirt – karma's a bitch – pulled at his eye patch and let it fly back into his face. I turned to his friends with a dangerous grin on my face. "Polly want a cracker?" They paused mid-run in their valiant rescue attempt, apparently unsure if they should continue the charge when I was clearly insane. I wondered vaguely where the librarian was.

One shouted out "Xigbar? You ok?"

Xigbar clawed at my hand. "You're fucking crazy!"

I let go of his shirt, and followed Zexion's lead, picking up my book as he scrambled away.

"I don't want to talk to you: you don't count now."

Zexion snorted beside me as I clarified. "Dracula. He was a Count. Do you like the pun I managed to work in there?" I think somewhere, deep down, the smothered juvenile in Zexion was dying to high five me.

I found my page and began to read as though I had never been interrupted. Completely ignoring Xigbar and his cronies, I barely noticed them leave.

Some time later, Zexion spoke up.

"Bit over the top, don't you think?"

I shrugged, not wanting to admit how much fun it had been. Zexion looked at me, eyes as calculating as ever.

"Not many people would jump into a fight with an older, larger opponent."

Funny, I hadn't thought of it that way. Trust Zexion to factor in cynicism. I ran a hand through my hair. "Not many people chose books over people... Besides," I smiled at the pages before me "I couldn't let you have all the fun."

I've no doubt he could have handled it himself, but I like to think he was thankful that someone cared enough to step in. He seems to be a lot like me when it comes to socialising. And if that's the case, I'm willing to bet it had never happened to him before.

Nobody disturbed us in the library again.

Author's Note: I hope they don't come across as pompous hipster book fiends or something... I just think it's the kind of thing they'd both bond over, and like the idea of quiet, calm friendship in contrast to Roxas and Hayner's SUPER BRO friendship :D.