This idea bit me in the middle of Finals on Monday, but I was too busy to write it then. So since today was a snow day I sat down and began writing as much as I possibly could. This is part one of two, and, well, it's a weird little fic, haha.

Based off a true story, which is actually an experiment I'm doing right now. Not to such an extreme, of course. But an experiment all the same. Try it if you'd like, it's fun! Tell me the results if you do, please.

I'll update with part two in the next day or so.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts isn't mine. Obviously.

Warnings: General weird. Bit of violence. Swearing. Creepy!Axel.


That first day, with the cool press of a hand taking his own, of rubber and fibers and the caress he felt, but wouldn't acknowledge, Roxas began his twenty day journey in the pursuit of love.


They'd been complete strangers not twenty days ago, sordid glances and curious stares, aquamarine on malachite, being their only form of contact. Of connection. Yet even then, in that minimal, nervous glance, something began to grow between them. Perhaps it was recognition, a familiar face in a crowd they each walked of their own accord. Maybe it was just the pursuit of having a kindred spirit that made the flicker of their eyes last longer and longer. That made it, eventually, so much harder to tear away.

Roxas pretended it didn't matter that they'd only known each other for the length of three weeks.

Stubbornly accepting that, really, fate was all it had ever been.


He'd been skateboarding home that first evening, backpack heavy, slamming into his back each time he dropped his foot to push himself faster, farther. Wind in his hair, his eyes, fresh and clean, the sun quickly falling over Twilight Town, giving it that dusky, hazy look it was known, and popular, for. Everything had been okay, right, and most importantly, normal. Not a care in the world for the homework in his chemistry folder, or the cars whizzing by, curious stares from one and all watching him careen down the path. Mind focused only on the sea salt ice cream waiting impatiently for him back home, Roxas had failed to see the spindly man exiting the front gate of a nearby home. Cigarette hanging loosely from his lip, just as guileless to the danger streaking towards him as the projectile himself, the result of their ignorance was inevitable.

That hadn't stopped the pair of them from shrieking when Roxas collided with the now, quite aware, man.

Limbs hit cold sidewalk, Roxas' skateboard rolling on down the path without him. Immediate headaches began to rage, tempers flared, but dwindled as the throb of scraps and bruises rose to surface. The man was the first to completely recover, his gangly limbs flopping about as he righted himself, long-fingered hand scratching at the great mane upon his head. Flowing red and orange, like a fire burning upon a long, long candlewick.

"Shit," the stranger seethed, hissing in pain as he rubbed a nail over a rising lump, "you hit me pretty hard, kid."

"Sorry." Roxas breathed, heaving himself up, brushing away dirt and sidewalk, a cut that bled freely on his calf. "I didn't even see you there."

Smiling sheepishly, "You wouldn't have hit me if you had, would you?"

Roxas tried to grin, failed, and took the hand the stranger offered him once he'd stood, albeit clumsily. He heaved a sigh of relief as he tottered gingerly on his feet, already preparing for a chewing out, or an apology that he wasn't exactly sure how to word. But even before his heart had calmed, the stranger was stepping away, hands raised in submission, "Sorry about that. Take care, kid."

And Roxas could only watch as the red-haired beast turned and dashed away, only glancing once, very briefly, over his shoulder.

"What a weirdo." He grumbled, but then he glanced down, noticing the rub of something quite unfamiliar against his palm. Unfurling his fingers, he stared dumbly at the item in his hand, knowing immediately what it was, but ultimately confused. And then...

"What the hell?"


Silly Bandz were a pretty popular thing amongst students those days. It seemed that, no matter where you went, every wrist had one or two dangling from it. Some had so many that it was hard to believe that, behind all that rubber, human flesh could be found. Roxas had come across the bands in stores, seen the price and thought, 'Why didn't I think of that?'

They weren't anything special, that was for sure. So it was a rubber-band that held its shape. Big deal. He certainly didn't have a wrist full of them.

… Well. He had one.

A quick glance down at his wrist told him that, yes, the bright green star he'd slipped over his bony hand was still there. It was the very same band that the strange, lion-maned red-head had slipped him, and why Roxas had kept it, he wasn't quite sure. But he had, and seeing as how it wasn't doing him any harm, he decided that it wouldn't kill him to keep it.

Although, wearing it to school the next day was completely out of the question. Hayner would chew a hole in his eardrum with the laughter the band would incur.

Sighing, Roxas took the pen he'd been chewing on from his mouth and went back to his Chemistry homework, staring dumbly down at the valence electrons he was supposed to be arranging.


At school the next day, his wrist was bare, the memory of the stranger one he had almost forgotten at that point. It was a brief encounter, nothing but a blip on the radar of their lives. But one that, to his initial horror, would surface again.

He'd been sharing a sandwich with Pence, Hayner and Olette on the grass outside the school, a quick lunch in the shade opposed to the noisy clutter in the cafeteria. Olette was laughing, Pence blushing slightly as he scratched at the back of his head, Hayner choking on his sandwich as he tried to continue the story he was recounting. Roxas could only watch, mouth full of peanut butter and jelly, and smile at his friends' antics.

Sucking at the water bottle he'd brought along, he nearly choked on it when someone slammed into him from behind, throwing the both of them to the ground.

Through the grass in his mouth and the cold water seeping into his shirt, Roxas could hear Hayner yelling, "Hey! What's wrong with you, 'ya moron? Get off of him!" and the weight on his back was lifted, pulled away, thrown backwards by his overprotective friends.

Olette helped him up, patting his cheek, picking grass from his hair as he tried to dust his clothes off. He could hear Pence and Hayner reasoning with whoever had tackled him, and he was fully expecting to see Seifer, or maybe even Rai or Fuu, sneering back at him when he turned.

But it turned out to be none of the above, and instead, a pixie-like girl stood bashfully before them, blushing heavily, trying to explain herself.

"He said I had to run into him. I'm sorry, I really am. I was sort of conned into it, you know? Regardless, I won't do it again." Roxas could see it in her eyes that she was just as confused as he was when she circled past Pence and Hayner to rush to him, "He wanted me to give this to you."

Somehow, Roxas knew what and who was being spoken of before the bracelet was even in his hand, and as the girl turned to leave, eyes the same color as his own, she smiled apologetically, "Sorry again."

And then she was gone, leaving three curious eyes to stare at her back, and a glare that was directed at nothing and no one other than the bright blue key in his palm.


"What do you think of this one, Roxas?"

Groaning, said blond turned his head to where Olette stood, modeling before the large, changing room mirror. "It's fine, Olette. And, ah, are you about done? I'm starving." Growling, his empty stomach accentuated the fact. Olette only rolled her eyes, slipping back into the changing room to try on yet another ensemble.

Eyes falling closed, Roxas leaned back in his seat once more, legs thrown out haphazardly, arms thrown up behind his head, spine stretched tight, he was pretty comfortable. But his empty stomach, and the sheer fact that he was shopping with a girl made him mentally uncomfortable. When he'd woken that morning, the new message on his cell told him that Hayner and Pence had been assigned an English assignment that was going to have them busy all day. Olette had mentioned needing some new clothes, since many of hers were, as she said, getting old. He'd known right then that he'd be spending the day looking at shoes and tank-tops, jeans and makeup. Olette might not have been the most feminine female he knew, but she still liked to shop. And she was still as slow as any other girl when it came to deciding between the orange shirt or the white one.

Yawning, Roxas let his eyes fall closed and tried to nap away the next hour or two, but a shout from outside the store caught his attention, and when he opened his eyes, peered out the large, flat-glass window across the room, he saw a bristly, red-haired man staring back at him.

"Shit." Roxas groaned, eyes rolling. This guy was beginning to creep him out, what with knowing where his school was, not to mention that he was capable of getting people to freaking tackle him just to deliver another of those stupid rubber-bands. But the man had already seen him, had entered the store with a merry welcome chime, and approached him before he could scramble from his seat and hide behind the nearest rack of clothes like the child he was.

"Hello again, kid." He said, smiling brightly, a hand briefly raised. All limb and sinew, long torso and, impossibly, longer legs, he thrust his hands inside his pockets and simply stood there, beaming down at Roxas.

"Uh. Hello... you."

Chuckling, "Ah, that's right, you don't know my name yet." The stranger tapped at his chin, a hand on hip hip, and then glanced over to the changing room. "Girlfriend in there?"

Bristling, Roxas rose from his seat, "That's none of your business. Just leave, alright? I don't need any trouble from you."

Backing away, hands raised in dismissal, the redhead smirked, "No worries, kiddo. I'm not as creepy as I look. And trust me, my intentions are innocent. I've even brought you something."

Roxas tried to protest, but quieted when the man lifted the hem of his thermal, long-sleeved shirt. A rainbow of colors and shapes were strapped there, hundreds in number, climbing, probably, up the entire length of his arm. It was a wonder the man hadn't lost all function of his hand yet, what with the blood being cut off the way it most likely was. He held his arm up, eyes scanning it carefully, then made a noise of discovery and picked out a hot pink band, yanking it up over the others. It was Roxas' time to raise his hands in submission, backing away, "Hey, look, enough with the bracelets. I don't even like them. See," he held up his own wrist, completely bare, "I'm not even wearing the ones you've given me so far."

Pausing, the stranger narrowed his eyes, seeing that, truly, Roxas' wrist was bare. "What? You don't like stars and keys?"

"Not particularly." He shot back bluntly. But apparently, the stranger didn't seem to mind all that much, because where he'd once been frowning, he now smiled, reaching out to snatch Roxas' hand in his own.

Struggling, he tried to pull away, but the lean, towering man overpowered him, sliding the band over his flailing fingers. With that done, he ruffled Roxas' hair and turned to dash away, leaving Roxas gaping and heaving for breath as he watched that flaming mane turn the corner and disappear once more.

But this time, he knew he'd be back.

Olette didn't waste any time leaving the changing room, clothes a bit disheveled from her having hastily thrown them on. "What was all that noise? Who were you talking to?"

Roxas didn't answer her, not immediately. His attention was on the band, freed from his wrist, that was busy unraveling in his open palm.

It was a truck.

"It was nothing. No one. Just, ah... are you about done here?"


Before he went to bed that night, belly full of popcorn and soda from the movie he, Hayner, Pence and Olette had gone to see after they'd all finished their errands and work, Roxas set the pink truck down by the star and key. They were a motley trio, scrunched up and messy by his lamp.

He scoffed, shook his head at the insanity of it all, and flicked the light off.


Over the next three days, he acquired a red rose, a black skate, and a purple letter A.

Each and every one had earned him a bruise or a scrape in one way or another, be it from being violently attacked by people at school he'd never met before, or by the strange man himself, who appeared randomly, and never stopped to stay.

Roxas had spent many an hour trying to decode the message behind the bands, trying to decide if it was just whatever the man hadn't wanted at the time, or if there was some kind of meaning to all the shapes. The first two, the key and the star, seemed completely unconnected. It helped to think that when he thought back on how the stranger had pondered which shape to give him, and how he'd realized Roxas wanted nothing to do with the first two.

But even then, how were the other three? What did a rose, a skate and the letter A have to do with one another?


When next they met, Roxas wore all five of the shapes on his right wrist. The strange, lanky man looked elated, grinning as he pulled his sleeve up to show off his own bracelets as well.

"I see you've taken a liking to them then!"

But Roxas, unperturbed, shook his head, "What the hell are you getting at anyway? Why are you giving me these?"

"'cause you're so darn cute." Flicking Roxas' nose, the red-head quickly backed off, laughing all the while at the pout on Roxas' face.

"That's not funny. Not even slightly. I mean, I don't even know you. Now seriously, what are these for? What are you trying to say? And, better yet, are you stalking me?"

Completely ignoring the question, the man sighed and said, "You're not good at puzzles, huh? I thought you'd be smarter..." Ignoring the cry of indignation he received for that comment, he chose instead to scan his wrist once more, "Something else then... hm... yeah, that should work."

And this time, Roxas just held out his hand, resigned to his fate of being slowly drained of all sanity by this moron.

"Say please." The man drawled, chuckling manically, "Just kidding. Your hand, malady." Another glare, coupled by a smack at the hand gripping his own.

The band slid over his fingers, over the other bands, and snapped cleanly onto his wrist. He didn't know what it was, or had been, only that it was bright orange. Winking, the man brought Roxas' hand to his mouth, and for the briefest of seconds, Roxas thought he would kiss it. But instead, he snatched it away, and this time, it was his turn to walk away.

He didn't see it, but the man was smirking as he watched him leave.


It was a lion, and it joined the writhing, undulating mass of the other five as he chucked them all atop his Algebra II notes. He didn't glance at them again for the rest of the night, too busy playing video games with Hayner and Pence to care. Olette lay on her back in his bed, head over the edge, half-watching them and half-texting Kairi, who was probably doing something similar with her friends Riku and Sora. They spent the entire day night doing so, laughing and carefree, just happy to be among friends, among familiars.

And half a mile away, the man who had recently taken it upon himself to drive Roxas insane for the last six days was leaning against the arm of his couch, remote in hand. Lonely, he was doomed to spend an entire, joyless night pondering the blond he'd taken to as of late, wishing that it was the blond at his side, and not a ratty old pillow. His roommate, mussed up and half-awake, ambled past the TV in the darkness, scratching idly at his ass.

He rolled his eyes. 'cause yeah, having Roxas around would definitely be an improvement.


On the seventh day, Roxas was mentally prepared for whatever it was the stranger had in store for him. Be it a tackling group of strangers, an assault from above, a robotic mole set out to scamper up his pant-leg, he was ready. What he wasn't braced for was the man to show up with an unconscious woman thrown over his shoulder.

They'd crossed paths near the place where they'd met that first day in a crash whose bruises and scrapes had long since patched themselves up. At the very moment that lion-mane had shown itself, Roxas had sighed, shook his head in despair, and soldiered on, cinching up the strap on his heavy backpack, skateboard tucked beneath his arm.

But then he'd seen the body beside the hair, and stopped dead in his tracks.

The stranger, however, seemed unperturbed, went so far as to wave a jolly hello and hasten his pace to join Roxas at his side. "Why hello there, kiddy! School just let out, has it?"

Instead of answering, he stared pointedly at the woman. Raising an eyebrow, the lanky man turned his head, seemed to realize for the first time how odd he must have looked, and turned back to Roxas with a grin, "Like what you see?" He jostled her body a bit, eliciting a groan that may have been a curse. "This is Larxene. Had a bit too much to drink, she did. And it's not even five yet. Tsk tsk. Tsk with me Roxas, c'mon, you know you want to."

Roxas did not. Instead, "Is she okay?"

"Of course. I found her sharing a sandwich with a raccoon and a hobo over by the highway. She passed out when she saw me though, probably playing dead so I'd leave her be. But, well, I don't think her pimp would like that too much." He smiled, completely genuine. And Roxas could only shake his head, praying the man wasn't serious.

And then, suddenly, "Oh! Right, I've got your present right..." he tried to remove a teal colored band with only one hand, found he couldn't and held his hand out for Roxas to remove it himself. But when the boy took too long, staring awkwardly at the long-fingered fingers and bony knuckles, the red-head shrugged and pulled it off with his teeth instead, much to Roxas' disgust. "Right then, here 'ya go!"

And Roxas took it just to get the hell out of there.

But this time, he stopped and turned, watching the pair walk away, wondering just what exactly went on in such a persons life that garnered for such strange things...

Deciding to see what the band was this time, he rubbed it against the front of his shirt to clean it of the strangers spit (you never knew what strange lion-haired men had in their mouths) and then untangled it.

And to add to his growing collection, he now had a teal elephant.


Homework, notes and formulas aside, Roxas threw his new addition into the pile and seated himself with a huff. Arms crossed over the desk, chin seated comfortably atop them, he glared down at the dancing colors and twisted shapes, trying to figure out why he hadn't just thrown them all out at this point.

When no reason came to him, he reached out for the star and set it on his far left, then for the key. The truck came next, completely out of place compared to all the others. Then the rose, and the skate, which was also random as hell, confusing him to no end. He untangled the purple A from the lion and set them with the others as well. And the elephant, all fat and adorable in its rubbery state, and dropped it at the end.

Then... he just sat there. Head aching, eyes roaming over the stupid little bracelets, thinking, wondering, what they meant.

"Seriously, what's the pattern? Where's the sense in all of this?"

One minute he'd been ambling home from school, looking forward to nothing but his xbox and the dinner his mom probably had set out for him. The next, he'd been tumbling, crashing, scraping over the sidewalk, courtesy of none other than the gangly red-head himself.

Pulling at his hair in frustration, Roxas pushed away from his desk and threw himself into the heaping, dirty mess that was his bed. Another day, another mystery. He'd solve this eventually, and tell off his damn stalker while he was at it as well.

Yet, as he began to drift, lights on and door half-open, all he could think about was what shape would come next.


Only, that next day, the man was no where to be found.

Not that Roxas cared.

He went to school, enjoyed a nice, quiet lunch with his best friends, and then went home to share a tasty dinner with his family, glad that the school week was finally over. After bathing, doing his homework and playing a bit of RDR, he was up and ready for bed.

But something felt different. Empty.

It was probably just the fact that the strange enigmatic stranger he'd come to expect around every bend had suddenly disappeared. He should have been relieved. Yet...

A glance in the darkness, a gaze directed at his desk, told him that the bracelets were right where he'd left them, dancing in their little parade over his Chemistry notes and Government textbook.


It was Saturday morning, his mother had only just finished making him a heaping plate of pancakes, and his cell phone was vibrating in his pocket. He fished it out, a smile breaking over his face when he saw a picture of Hayner, Pence and Olette in front of the lot, struggle bats in hand, beaming up at him from the tiny screen. Scrolling down he found a single word, and with that alone he grinned and replied with a smiley face.


"Struggle?"

"You know it!" Grinning, Hayner threw his arm around Roxas' shoulders and pulled him close, "Between you and me, I think we've got this match in the bag. Hands down, man. See, Olette wants to try for once, and Pence offered to pair with her. And hey, I even got her to agree that whoever loses buys the ice cream!"

"Sweet." Roxas agreed. Hayner released him and went instead to taunt their opposing players, leaving Roxas to survey the others who were currently occupying the lot. Since it was the first day of the weekend, everyone had flocked together for a Struggle marathon, and he couldn't blame them.

But when a familiar swatch of red caught his eye, all the color in his face drained away.

"Of course." He groaned, knowing all too well that he shouldn't expected any less. Instead of agonizing over it, he turned back to his friends and hid among them, feigning ignorance as a shadow passed over them. He continued to laugh and grin with them, collecting bets and poking Olette playfully when she promised she'd win, but when their laughter died away, and his friends' eyes were drawn the the towering giant above him, Roxas knew he couldn't ignore it any longer.

Slowly, he turned, knowing fully well just who it was that was behind him. And, unsurprised, he glared up at the face of his strange stalker, who was sporting a lovely shiner.

"Hello again! Sorry I missed you yesterday, I had, ah, important business to attend to. You understand."

No, no, he didn't. But seeing the obvious bruise on the mans face, the split in his lip, he couldn't help but pity him a bit. That's why, when he reached out to pull Roxas aside, he followed him, turning to his friends to reassure them before doing so, "No worries, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

They looked uncertain, most especially Hayner, who probably didn't want to risk losing Roxas when their Struggle match was next. The current occupants of the platform looked to be winding down as well, but Roxas assured him, "One minute."

And he left, following the red-head through the crowd and drifters, over to the shadows where they could talk in peace, or perhaps, where Roxas' screams couldn't be heard. He swallowed around the knot in his throat at that, turned to make sure that, yes, there really was a crowd of people who could save him if such a thing happened, and then gave his attention back to the strange, lanky man before him.

"So... figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"Hm?" Raising an eyebrow, the man pouted, "Seriously? You still haven't gotten it?"

Roxas tried to ignore the fact that, coupled with the pout, the black eye made him look pretty pathetic.

"Well," He began again, "Maybe these will help. Don't think I've forgotten or anything!"

A white band over his wrist, "An antelope." The man supplied, grinning a cooky, sideways little smile. And then, "Ah, I had a tough time with this one. I'm nice, so I'll give you a hint. It's an X, for Xhosa."

Roxas lasted a good three seconds before he lost it. Laughter burst from him, manic and wicked, completely unsure of what to think of anything anymore, "Seriously? What the hell man? Xhosa?"

Clearly deflated, the man replied, "You know, Xhosa. As in, the South African Xhosa..." Trailing off, he grew quiet, scratching awkwardly at his nose. It probably didn't help that all Roxas could do was stand there and stare at him, eyebrow cocked, wondering just what the heck was wrong with this mans head.

"Anyway..." He tried again, "Do you get it now?"

Wanting to bash his brains in, Roxas shook his head, "You like African things? Like lions and antelope and elephants?"

"C'mon, Roxas, try a little harder, what's in a name?"

He groaned, exasperated, and tried to think, but something was nagging him suddenly. Something was wrong.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

Pausing, the man blanched, "Ah... what's in a name?"

"No," Roxas chuckled, on the verge of insanity now, wondering just what he'd done to deserve this, "before that. Did you... how do you know my name?"

"Fuuu-" Doubling over, the man rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "Shit shit shit. I did not mean to say that."

"I bet you didn't! You stalker! You're stalking me, aren't you? It all makes sense now! Though, not really... the bracelets, totally random and stupid, but still, you following me around and all that jazz, it's because you're stalking me!"

"No no no! Look, Roxas, ah, it sounds so weird to call you by name, but look, look at me." Roxas did, albeit hesitantly, and not without the edge of a glare, and found the mans eyes almost... beseeching... "What's in a name?"

Deciding he was angry enough, and that he had totally earned the right, Roxas figured that it was okay to be a smartass at that point, "Letters."

"And what are letters?" The man asked, unfazed. Almost as if he'd expected that answer.

But Roxas didn't know what the next one, didn't know what else the man could be looking for. "I dunno... random squiggles and lines thrown together? Symbols? Markings?"

"And?" He urged him on, waving his hand frantically, a giant smile breaking out over his face. The pressure was on, and Roxas racked his brain for answers, then, suddenly, "Shapes."

Letting out a cry of triumph, the man practically leapt for joy, "Finally! Now, now, don't lose me yet, now... Names. Letters. Shapes. Think about it. Got it?"

Roxas nodded slowly, face twisting in confusion, "Got it?"

"Okay. Now... what is my name?"

"... you know, you could have saved us a hell of a lot of time if you had just skipped the whole bracelet thing and told me that first day, after, you know, I ran into you."

"Where's the fun in that?" Laughing, the man patted him on the shoulder, "C'mon, you know this. Just think about it! In fact, go on, go play Struggle with your little friends, you can tell me what my name is afterwords."

"Have you got amnesia or something? Why do I have to figure your name out for you?"

"I'm bored." Was the only answer he got, and with that, the red-head grasped him by the shoulder and turned him, pushing him over to the Struggle platform that his friends were already mounting.

He wasn't really sure how he was going to figure out the mans name when he was so busy smacking his friends around with a bat, but he thought he'd at least give it a try.

And, because his mind was so preoccupied, he shouldn't have been surprised when the final, yellow orb hit the ground, bouncing off the platform, and Olette cheered, "Free ice cream!"

Needless to say, Hayner wasn't happy with him.


Later on, over sea salt ice cream, the group laughed and chattered atop the clocktower railing, watching as the train went by and the people down below made their way home. Watching as, right before them, the sun began to set and Twilight broke out over their little town. And, despite the considerable loss of weight in his wallet, Roxas was happy. Even if, eventually, he would once again be thrown into chaotic confusion as the red-head reentered his life and demanded more answers of him.

But then Pence was telling him that his ice cream was melting, and all thoughts of that red-headed creep left him.


Until around midnight, when a sudden noise at his window woke him from his light slumber.

"You can't be serious." He grumbled, rolling out of bed to shuffle over to the window. Rubbing away the fog, Roxas peered down at the streetlamps below, agony rising in his throat when he saw an all-too familiar figure standing there.

"You've got to be kidding me. How the hell..." No, he didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to know how this man had figured out where he lived, and what his name was, and where he always happened to be. It was too strange, too surreal, and he honestly couldn't believe that it was happening to him of all people.

Happy, normal Roxas. The guy who just wanted to hang out with his friends and eat ice cream while watching the sun set. The guy who figured, hey, as long as he did his homework and made okay grades, everything would be fine.

Everything was so simple.

And yet.

It wasn't.

Another tap at his window startled him, and he opened it quickly to stop the onslaught of rocks before the freaking creeper below did something that seriously damaged his house.

"What?" He hissed. "What are you doing here?"

A singsong voiced echoed back up to him in reply, "What's my name, Roxas?"

"Antelope, Xhosa, Elephant, Lion!" He growled, "Obviously. Seeing as how that's the only clues you've given me so far!"

"C'mon, Roxas! You're so close! What's my name?"

"I don't know!" The blond screeched, much to his dismay. His eyes widened, heart quickened, and until he heard his mother and father settle back into their beds, he remained quiet. "Get away from my house! And don't talk to me anymore!" And with that, he pulled the window shut as quietly as he could, shutting the red-head out and sealing himself in.

After that, he pulled the curtains closed and turned, sliding down the wall to rest in the floor.

Antelope... Xhosa... Elephant... Lion...

What did the four have in common?

Roxas pushed aside the obvious things, like their African relations, and settled on the words themselves. Earlier they'd spoken of letters, right? He thought of the letters, the way they were arranged, what they ended with and began with...

And suddenly, he knew.

The star and the key had been completely irrelevant to it all. But the truck, trucks had axles. And the rose, well, he thought that one was just silly. Axl Rose. Then there was the skate, which, if he remembered, there was a certain maneuver in figure skating where the dancer would jump and turn in the air, which, ultimately, was referred to as an axel. The A, which was the first letter of Axel. At that point, he'd told the man that he really wasn't getting what the point was, and at that point he'd switched routes completely. In fact, he'd practically pitied him, practically written out the letters, and even then he still hadn't figured it out...

But he knew now. He knew that his stalkers name wasn't Antelope, Xhosa, Elephant, Lion.

It was Axel.

Suddenly guilty, for whatever reason, Roxas felt that, at the very least, he could let Axel know that he finally figured out his damn name. So he rose from his seated position and drew the curtains away...

Only to shriek like a little girl when he found bright green eyes staring back at him from the other side.

Axel quickly yanked the window up, "Whoa, whoa! Relax, Rox! Relax!" Bringing his finger to his lips, he made a soothing, quieting noise, trying to stifle the boys cries as he shook.

But it didn't last long.

Roxas pulled back his fist and laid it square between Axel' eyes, nearly sending him right back through the window. Now he'd have a shiner on his third eye as well.

"Damn, Roxas! You've got quite a swing behind those tiny fists of yours."

"Want me to blacken your other eye?" Roxas growled threateningly, to which Axel only held his hands up, a smile on face.

"So... have something you want to tell me? Hm? Hm hm hm?"

"Ugh, do you ever shut up? … Axel?"


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