Ienzo would have loved this library. He would have liked the way that hardly anyone else ever came here. He would have liked the way the sound echoed around the room. He would have loved the feeling of picking up a new book and having very little idea of what it contained. But he was dead, and all that remained of him was a shadow of the teen he use to be. And Zexion couldn't love the library at all.
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The soft sound of footsteps drifted to my ears and I inhaled slightly to catch the scent of whoever was approaching. The smell of the ocean filled my nostrils and I recognized the odour to belong to number 9, Demyx. I don't mind De- no. 9 in the library. This might bother me as I detest putting up with the members in here, but being a nobody I do not have the capacity to be bothered. Or detest for that matter. Although the rest of the organization seem capable of fooling each other- and themselves- that they have emotions. Maybe it is just me that embraces, or at least accepts what I am.
"Heya Zexy" Demyx said swinging himself over the back of the sofa to sit beside me.
"Hello no.9" I replied my voice betraying nothing of my inner thoughts.
"Zexy, don't call me that" he whined folding his arms.
"Don't call you what?"
"No. 9! I have a name you know"
I looked at him levelly. "I am aware of that"
"So why do you call me 'no. 9'? I call you Zexion"
"No to my constant annoyance you call me 'Zexy'" I reminded him, my tone not changing.
"Okay, if I call you Zexion will you call me Demyx?" the blonde bargained.
I sighed inwardly "Alright Demyx"
"Yay!" he said exuberantly punching the air. I watched the display of fake emotion.
"So do I annoy you Zexy- on?" Demyx asked cheerfully.
"No, I am a nobody and thus not capable of feeling such things as annoyance" I said as a reflex.
"Oh" Demyx looked so put down that I couldn't help but add;
"If I had a heart Demyx, you would probably annoy me"
He grinned "Really? Wait..."
"What?"
"You were just nice!"
"Pardon?"
"Oh my god! Zexion was nice!" Demyx leapt up and shot out of the library. I shook my head. Out of all the members, I- for all my supposed intelligence- could not understand why I preferred Demyx's company. I enjoyed having him around. I am fairly sure that he enjoys my company; why else would he be constantly around me? But this shouldn't be possible. Neither of us should care. It was wrong, it went against our existence. Or non existence. I sighed. Whatever my subconscious reasons, I knew that I would still seek the musicians presence and still feel the echo of emotion when I was with him. Whatever the emotion is...
I sprinted around the corner straight into Xigbar. It was a funny collision as he was standing on the ceiling so I smashed into his face.
"Argh!" I said as he crashed on top of me.
"Uh-oh" he floated back up to the ceiling and extended a hand to help me up.
"Hey Xiggy!" I said cheerfully, springing to my feet.
"Hey lil dude. What's up?" he greeted.
"You!" I grinned.
Xigbar rolled his visible eye, but grinned. "What are you so pepped up about?"
"Zexy was nice to me! I mean Zexion!"
The Freeshooter's grin widened. I long ago trusted him with the secret of my crush on Zexy.
"That's great Dem. What did he say?"
"That is he had a heart I'd annoy him"
Xigbar laughed. "You have a weird head kiddo"
I frowned. "Axel dropped me on it yesterday..."
My friend frowned. "Why?"
"'Cause I walked in on him and Marly..." I confessed. Xiggy laughed.
"See ya kid" he messed up my hair and walked off. Still upside down of course. I giggled and carried on running to my room.
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I reached the door with IX painted onto it. Throwing open the door I shot into my room and launched myself onto the bed. I groped under my pillow for a second before dragging out an aqua blue book with a strange looking lock on it. I'd got it from the dwarves in the Narnia world, they are great smiths. To open it you have to fill the lock with water and direct it to the release button on the inside. No one but me could open it: which made it the perfect lock for my diary. I opened it up and flicked through the book. It was filled with my scruffy handing writing, recording all the days since I had become a nobody. I had been scared when I had first become a member, worried that I would lose all my memories. Again. To be honest I was still scared. But I figured that if I kept a diary, I'd still know everything even if I forgot. It makes sense right? I reached a blank page and quickly wrote down;
Boring day today 'cept for when I went to the library, Zexion was there. He was nice to me and I felt really really happy! But he did another one of his; "We have no hearts, and can't feel" moments. If he honestly believes that then there is no way he can feel the same way for me...But he was nice to me today. He wouldn't have been nice to me if he didn't like me a little bit. Right?
I sighed. I was never any good at puzzles. And Zexion is the most complicated one I've ever come across. I stowed the book back under my pillow and switched off the light. It was only 9, but I was desperate to start dreaming. I think I am the only nobody that dreams. I only ever dream about two things. One is my music and the other. A certain blue haired nobody...
For the first time in my existence, somebody or otherwise, I dreamed. I was in the library, reading a book who's plot is unkown. Hearing a noise I looked up see Demyx in front of me. He reached out for me, offering his hand to take. I took it without even hesitating. It was like flying, moving smoothly through the air straight to him. I'm not in the library in the more; I am floating in the stars. Cradled in his arms. Feeling him kiss me. Me kissing him. Then I passed straight through him. Falling to fast to understand to register in my mind. Slamming into the ground.
I woke up abruptly a scream on my lips. Regaining a bit of my self-control I bit my lip to contain myself. I looked around a realised I was on the floor tangled up in the sheets normally on my bed. I drew in shaky gasps of air, struggling to remember how my lungs worked. Wasn't that supposed to be natural? Well, it was not natural, normal or sane for a nobody to be in love. Which was undoubtedly what I was in. I was in it so far drowning in it. This isn't normal! My head is clouded, my lungs aren't working and a pulse that doesn't exist is filling my ears! I can't hear! I can't see! I can't breathe! What's happening to me?! I lurched upright, like a puppet with a bad master controlling its strings. Stumbling into my bathroom, I fell against the sink trying to cool my head in both senses against its cold surface. My face jerked up to meet my reflection in the mirror. Pale skin drenched in sweat with strands of silver-blue hair sticking to it. Haunted eyes searching its match for answers neither pair contained. Answers for questions not asked. The eyes slid down my face to my lips. A thin trail of blood trickled down my chin; I had bitten it too hard. Or...hard enough? As I focused my attention on the scarlet liquid, I felt a tiny bit of the confusion slide away. The guilt that was smothering me- I had no right to feel love, I was nothing- was being tugged with it. More blood less guilt? Was, was that? The thought had barely crossed my mind before I had a medical kit in my hand. It was the one Vexen had insured that each and every member had in their rooms. He had said; "Just in case any of you hurt yourselves" It was a simple common term. Hurt yourselves. Not meant in a literal sense. Well. Not for normal nobodies. The lid flicked off the small green box. Neatly stored between a roll of bandages and some anaesthetic, lay a needle. I picked it up and looked at it silently. Placing it deliberately against my skin I turned my gaze back to my reflection. I didn't feel the needle prick my flesh. Not straight away. The pain came slightly later. Out of sync with my actions. When it came I embraced the pain like a drug. Glancing down I watched my blood mix with my tears. Tears. When did I start crying? I felt disjointed. I was looking at my body from my duplicate in the mirror. It was sweet ecstasy, not to be connected with my thoughts. I was a mere observer watching a stranger cut themselves again and again. As I watched the wounds took the shape of words. I twisted slightly to read what they had engraved into their living flesh.
"FUCKED UP"
