Author's Note:

Alright guys, this is not only my first ever story on this website, it is also the first story I've ever written- well, outside of school at least. I've been reading stories on here for months now and I was inspired to write this! It took a lot longer than I thought it would and I tried my best. I think I used too much... artistic liberty- especially for someone who isn't very practiced and especially especially for my first story, but I put effort into it and I hope you like it! Please tell me what you think about the story, what you liked or disliked, what I could change or do differently, and, most importantly, tell me if I should keep trying to write.

Anyway, this one shot takes place after the Keyblade War. Roxas awakens in Twilight Town to Lea and he doesn't know what's going on. This is a story of a hopeless connection. This is the tragic end to the story of Axel/Lea and Roxas. I set the rating to M because of some sexual themes and one case of bad language. Tell me if I should change it to T.

Here we go,


I woke up from the darkness.

"Roxas!"

I was completely dazed. You went on and on with things I didn't hear or understand and I didn't know it but you were crying in a joyous fit and we were hugging and you were rocking us side to side and you were laughing when our lips met and you tasted like sea-salt and cigarettes and you couldn't believe it was really me and I could feel...

Your heart?

And it was beating.

"And look! My diamonds are gone too!"

You pointed to the areas under your eyes where those black marks once rested. Still in a blurred reality, I mustered up some strength and showed you a smile- it had come a long way from the smiles we would practice together; we could only bring them upon our faces by force. But your smile widened and I don't think you even realized it. I stepped back for a moment to look at you completely. Your entire demeanor was different. Your being seemed to emit an energy more alive than I could ever hope to be.

"Um, Ax," I didn't know where to begin. Your heart? That's where I wanted to begin, but instead, "How am I...alive- in flesh and blood?"

"U-uh, well..." Your face grew quizzical, "Well, first of all, my name's Lea now, got it memorized?"

"Your name's Lea?"

"Well, yeah, it was- well, it is my name. I remembered it once I came around. I don't really know how it happened but Yen Sid said..." You stared at the ground and tried to think of how to explain everything. You gave up quickly, "Ya know, Rox, we have all the time in the world now," you beamed at me, "I'll be sure to give you every little detail- in time."

And you did.

Over the next few months you told me everything. We spent countless sunsets at the Clock Tower like we used to. Each one was similar; You would sit and face me, watching me as you relived your story between bites of ice cream. Or I would sit there wrapped in your arms or you in mine. I would sit and listen, never taking my eyes away from the magnificent, sinking sphere until it fell beyond our sight.

Day after day, that immaculate sun would rise above us and fall again out of reach.

The time we spent at the Clock Tower was mostly one sided. You would talk and I would listen, rarely interrupting with questions. Emotionally, your story was even more one sided. As much as I tried to understand your feelings...to pretend to understand, my emptiness left you alone to shed the tears. It left you alone to relive the pain, and the struggles, and the triumphs you all faced,

and it left you to do the smiling, and the laughing, and the cheering,

and it left you to do the caring,

and it left me feeling nothing.


We would return home shortly after dark. It was never long before we would recede to the bedroom.

Back when you went by 'Axel,' when we slept together, it made us feel as if... as if we could feel.

When we slept together for the first time under your real name, it was different. You said we were making love. That may have been half true;

You were making love and I was trying.

I touched you and grabbed you and kissed you and felt you move and you did the same. I memorized your body all over again: the shape of your shoulders, the dip in your neck, the folds of your mouth...

Every night I tried just as hard. I tried hopelessly to feel what you did, but in the end, I could only go through the actions and pretend to feel what you could. But you could feel what I couldn't. You could tell that I couldn't feel what you could.

You tried to ignore it. You tried to pretend that I wasn't trying to pretend. You tried to convince yourself that it was in your head.

For a while, it seemed to work. Some nights, you seemed even more passionate than the last. But it didn't stay that way. It couldn't have.

The illusions that we tried so hard to keep up were not strong enough to keep your heart from seeing the truth. We continued to try, but slowly, you went from making love to trying to make me feel love. And as you- as we failed and failed to make me feel, our nights were filled with a different kind of passion. It wasn't the warm passion of love, but the cold, hysteric passion of desperation.

We never talked about these feelings, or my lack of feelings. I couldn't bring myself to hurt you, and you couldn't bring yourself to give up hope.

But even without talking, your thoughts were evident; the explanations of your adventure were filled with less and less fervor.

We still ignored those thoughts. Even if we faced them, what could we have done? At least ignoring them could have allowed us to pretend for a while longer.

It didn't though.


The night before that dreadful day, we stayed up longer than we usually did. We both had a lot on our minds. What was the use in talking about what we both already knew- what we knew we both knew?

We laid awake in bed. I spent most of that night peering out the window, waiting for the sun to rise again. We weren't upholding illusions anymore, but neither of us wanted to face reality. So, to avoid reality, you directed your eyes towards the ceiling- or anything that wasn't me, and I continued my endless wait with the sky.

I woke up in the early afternoon. When I saw you weren't in bed, I got up, found clothes, made my way to the bathroom, and took a long, cold shower.

Once I finished, I wandered into the kitchen. I saw you out on the balcony smoking. When you finished your cigarette you turned around and I could tell from where I was that you hadn't slept; you where ghostly pale and you had large shadows under your eyes. We stood watching each other through the glass door for quite some time. You looked sad and beautiful in the harsh light of the sun.

Eventually, you dropped your glance to the ground and you slid open the door. You stopped a small space away from me, still looking down, and anxiously took my hand.

"R-Rox," You spoke quietly. You parted your lips to say something, but nothing came out. You just stood there looking at the floor and holding my hand.

I closed the gap between us. I rested my head on your chest and let out an understanding breath through my nose. We stood there for a minute before I nudged you away gently with my forehead. You looked at me as I backed away from you, but I kept my eyes from yours. We let our hands drop apart and I went out for some fresh air.

The first step I took out on the balcony was all it took for me to see how ferociously hot it was. The sun was at its peak.

Unfortunately, the two of us had already reached our peak and had plummeted a great distance from it. But unlike the sun, we wouldn't be rising again- not together at least.

Sometime later, I heard the door slide open. I didn't turn around. And then,

"... Wanna go to the Common?"


The Tram Common was crowded and hot. Everyone seemed irritable. Even the smaller kids who were usually loud and energetic looked miserable; they dragged behind their parents, too sweaty to run, too weary to complain.

We dragged along slightly apart from each other, you lagging behind a bit. Neither of us watched where we were going. You were dazed by the heat- your head drooping, your mind grateful that the weather was too severe to allow you to think. I was busy squinting up at that antagonizing sun, wondering how it could extend its anger to everyone beneath it-

except for me.

Neither of us complained when we found ourselves waiting in line at the ice cream stand. It was a bit earlier than usual, but that sun was having its way with us.

The cashier was as agitated as everyone else. She knew our order by heart, so without looking or speaking, the two of you made the exchange, and then we were on our way to the Clock Tower.

By the time we reached the Station Plaza, we had both finished our ice cream and the brutal heat had slightly mellowed in the sun's slow sinking.

We looked up to the ledge of the Clock Tower that we would soon reach. The atmosphere intensified. You had already finished retelling your story up to this point.

Now, it was about to end exactly how we hoped it wouldn't.

I could see you shaking in the corner of my right eye. I could tell you were watching me- waiting for me to write the end. I didn't know what to do, so I looked at the sky.

Remember, Lea? The sky was incredibly clear. That vast, empty space was all that kept us from that big, vibrant orb.

"Rox," you were facing me. You needed this tragedy to end. You needed me to be complete. You needed me to be able to reciprocate your feelings,

"Roxas,"

Your eyes welled up with tears.

I couldn't change though. I couldn't change the end of your story- it was set in stone from the moment we existed together and from the moment you regained your heart and it was inevitable from the moment I didn't regain mine and from the moment I rose from the dark and from the moment you began your story and from the moment I sat there and stared relentlessly at that terrible sunset and from the moment I refused to tear my eyes from it as you would have refused to tear your eyes from it back when you only existed to stare at that sun and pray and pray and PRAY AND PRAY

that one day

you could obtain that passion and

you could come back to me and you be with me and you could love me the way that I

still can't love you

But it was in my silence, that you let your head fall to your knees, and you wrapped your arms around them and you sobbed,

and you sobbed,

and YOU sobbed,

And I watched as your head rose and I watched as your lips parted and I watched while you stared helplessly

And I watched as that fucking sphere reclaimed the passion you had somehow recovered

And I watched as you couldn't do anything about it

And as I watched as two tears stopped dead on your face and were engraved in your cheeks by that same sphere's excruciating rays.

Tell me, can you truly rid yourself of those marks?


Author: Man, Axel, I'm so sorry that I did that to ya. After all you did and all Lea did (will do in KH3!), I took away all that really mattered. I feel evil.

I really hoped you enjoyed it because I put a ton of effort into it.

So, to clarify some things-

I know in the games Roxas shows some definite signs of having a heart or at least having feelings. I tried to make him take on an existence more typical of a Nobody but still exhibit some of those signs- such as him not wanting to hurt Lea. But I didn't want it to be enough to make the love between them work because.. it would have changed the story

I didn't add Lea's actually story- or any explanation of the war or what happened after because I wanted the focus of the story to be... the tragedy. I say this because I kept thinking of Xion- did she return too or what? I decided it was best not to mention anything in order to keep the flow of the story and to allow you guys to imagine what might have happened.

Again, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you don't feel like you just wasted your time. I would really appreciate any reviews and critiques and even a simple "keep trying"/"give up" would be nice.

And of course, I do not own any rights to Kingdom Hearts or Disney anything.

Thanks so much for reading!