Nobody in Particular

"So, you're finally awake, huh?"

Bleary eyes tried to adjust to the darkness and shift to where the voice was coming from, but all he could make out in the dim light was a shadowy figure that faded into the hazy background. He groaned softly, bringing up leaden arms to scrub at his face, trying to clear some of the fog from his eyes, but the effort cost him, and his arms sank to his sides again. His mouth was dry and sour, as though he'd just woken up, but he couldn't quite remember when he'd fallen asleep. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember anything, though his aching head kept him from trying to think too hard. He clutched at it as it throbbed, wishing he could just stop thinking for a moment to lessen the ache. Hands swan into his vision, the annoyingly loud voice coming again.

"Hey, you're awake, right? Hey! Can you sit up?"

The voice had gotten closer, close enough, apparently, to lift him to a sitting position, and support him as he swayed dizzily. The room whirled around, and he felt as though he'd be sick, but the thought of getting up to find some place to vomit, and all that effort he'd have to put into actually getting up to find a place made him feel even worse. The prospect of it made him groan again, but surprisingly, this was answered by a laugh. One of the hands supporting him left, only to return with a cup that was pushed into his hands.

"I know what you mean, buddy. I remember I felt the same way when I woke up. Here, drink this, and things'll look a whole lot better, promise." He did as he was told, and the cool drought brought instant relief to his parched mouth, and burned away the residual drowsiness in his limbs. The figure in front of him came more into focus as well, although it was still difficult to discern the black robe from the dark shadows around them.

"Thanks," he rasped, then coughed as the drink went down the wrong way. Again, the figure laughed, smacking him on the back and handing him another bottle.

"Not so fast this time, kiddo, or you'll drown yourself in elixer. That'd be a nasty way to go, wouldn't it?" He didn't respond, resenting the "kiddo" and the man's laughter at his expense. Instead, he focused on drinking the second bottle more slowly, and sitting up on his own. The man's hand still rested on his back, and he shrugged it off, putting the empty vial onto the ledge before hopping off the side. He splashed into the puddle that had pooled beneath his rock- a fallen support beam or something similar, by the looks of it- and blinked as he took in his surroundings. The place was dark, the bright city lights doing little to illuminate the sky, or make the streets any less dreary. The water that he'd splashed into was decidedly an inky black, as if it refused to even acknowledge the few lights that twinkled in their little nook of the street. Looking around, he felt certain he'd never been here before.

"Where am I?" The figure waved his question aside, putting a hand on one hip while gesticulating with the other.

"Eh, we're pretty much on what you could consider the doorstep to the organization's stronghold. This city isn't really all that important. What is important," the man continued, bringing down the wayward hand to point, "is who, exactly, are you?"

He bristled at the jab the taller man had given him, pushing the hand away and shuffling away from the man, staring off into the deserted city streets.

"I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember anything?" He glared back at the man, whose lean figure was reclining back against the building's wall. The man didn't even flinch as his voice grew louder. "Why can't I remember? Nothing, not even my own..." he broke off, something tickling the back of his mind, as though a memory was trying to resurface but couldn't find a way out. Letters came into his head, jumbled and vague. S. He knew there had been an S in his name, and there was another letter, R, he knew that one was in there too. He couldn't think of which way they went, though, and where the O and the A fit in, and did he have an X in his name too? Xoras? Sorax? Raxos?

"Roxas," the figure said, startling him out of his thoughts, "your name is Roxas." He looked at the man, but the figure had turned to look out over the dark city, and the voice had gotten softer- well, less obnoxiously cheerful, anyway. And then, the man reached up and pulled back his hood, and Roxas took a step back. He wasn't sure how it had been physically possible for the man to stuff all of that brilliant red hair into the hood, but the brilliant flame was a welcome contrast to the dismal darkness. The man turned around, and the grin he was giving Roxas was nearly as blinding as his hair. The redhead tapped his head. "Got it memorized?"

Roxas scowled, glaring off into the distance. "I do now. If you knew who I was, why'd you ask?" He sighed, looking past the man and into the street once more. "But why can't I remember anything? What happened to me? I feel... weird." The redhead stopped smiling, and instead gave an apologetic shrug.

"Does it really matter? If you can't remember everything right now, so what? Memories aren't everything. Just be content and know that you're here now. The rest'll come later."

Roxas glowered again,. Not really happy with this simple statement, and crossed his arms. His right hand brushed against his chest, however, and the odd, empty feeling came back over him again. He must have flinched, because the redhead's gaze and voice softened.

"The hollow feeling will go away too. Promise. Now, c'mon. We need to get back." Roxas paused, a little leery of following the overly-cheerful man.

"Go where? To do what? What's going on?" Roxas questioned, but instead of answering immediately, the redhead laughed again, waving him to follow.

"You'll find out soon enough. It's nothing all that exciting, really, it's just that the boss-man wants to meet you, and he gets cranky if you keep him waiting too long. C'mon, let's get moving." Roxas, however, stayed where he was, still unsure. The man waited, saw his reluctance, and sighed, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down to come eye to eye with Roxas.

"Unless you've got somewhere more important to be?" Roxas scowled at him, and the man grinned again, seeing he'd won the argument. He turned around, and headed back into the streets, once again waving for Roxas to follow. "Glad that's settled then. Good! Let's head on out. It's not that far."

Roxas shuffled behind the redhead, kicking at puddles as they walked down the street.

"Just who are you, anyway?" he muttered as the redhead whistled in front of him. The man flashed him another grin over the shoulder.

"Nobody in particular," he laughed, but stopped, and waited for Roxas to catch up. He winked. "But you can call me Axel."

Roxas found himself smiling back, and fell into step beside Axel, walking in the street again. He didn't know why, but he was pretty sure he'd grow to like the man, despite his apparent overly-optimistic outlook. He just had a hunch that they'd be friends. He let himself laugh, and tapped his own head.

"I'll be sure to keep it memorized."