Title: Winterspark
Author: unwinding fantasy
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts isn't mine.
Rating: T for language.
Pairing: Akusai and Akuroku if you squint.

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards your oceanic eyes.

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
its arms turning like a drowning man's.

- Pablo Narudo

The call comes at twenty past five, sun dipping towards the horizon turning the striated clouds the colour of skin rubbed raw. Lea, hands cracked and stinging, glances away from the birds wheeling and soaring across the evening sky and fishes the cloth from the bucket before he gets called out for being slack. He'd been dreaming of the kite they'd promised to test today before the rhythmic clap of combat boots jolts him back to reality, the guards rushing past making him blink. The urgency is uncharacteristic of Radiant Garden, enough to make him ponder, What's that all about?

He lets the rag drop back into the bucket - punishment for sneaking into Ansem's research laboratory, the third time in as many weeks - and squints against the shafts of light refracting off their armour, luminous lances primed to blind. Ignoring the ache in his knees, Lea stands and tails the guards. They are moving fast but he is fleet-footed and well acquainted with the castle corridors. He realises where they're heading long before they arrive at the infirmary, the wiry head guard depositing a bundle onto a cot while his colleagues maintain their distance. Lea presses against the wall and strains to hear.

"-know what he was doing. Some woman walking her dog found him at the bottom of the eastern cliffs. Kid didn't make a sound, was wedged snug between two rocks, ocean tickling his nose. Must've passed out as soon as he hit the ground or bounced off the cliff or whatever. Maybe he fainted from shock while he was falling and never even saw the sea coming up to meet him."

He looks around the corner, sees the willowy blonde turn from the bed and fling out his hands, face twisted in disdain. You'd think his mama just told him he was grounded. "I'm a scientist, not a nurse. What am I supposed to do with this child?"

The wiry guard waves him off and turns his back on him. His eyes gleam, hard, two bullets set in a face that has seen too much, and Lea's stomach lurches as he retreats. The guard reminds him of a shark. Lea's seen him circling the castle before but has managed to dodge him so far, possibly the only person that he fervently wishes wouldn't memorise his face or name, and thank god it was the big guard who'd caught him sneaking around Ansem's laboratory instead. "Like that's my problem. The old man wants you to patch the kid up so work your voodoo and resurrect him already."

"He's not dead, imbecile," the blonde - Even, Lea recalls as he peeks around the infirmary door - says. He bends over the cot, tugging away the blankets and tutting at whatever he sees, muttering something about scars or stars. "I'll need to fetch my kit. The rudimentary instruments here won't do. And I'll need some space to work."

"Far be it for me to get in the way of brilliance," the guard says sardonically before making to leave. Lea recoils behind a bookcase as the guard stalks past, smile a slash on his face that raises goosepimples on Lea's arms. The other guards and Even follow suit, leaving Lea counting to twenty under his breath before ducking inside to see what all the fuss is about. The bundle on the bed is instantly recognisable: lithe frame clad in a high necked jacket, hair a shock of blue like a winter's sky and-

"Lea." His voice is beyond the usual calm control. He sounds... subdued. Lea doesn't pay it much attention though. He's very distracted by the mess of red across Isa's face, a terrible dawn on a pale canvas like the sunrises they ritualistically watch. His feet propel him forwards, any residual concern about being spotted evaporating because his best friend is...

"Isa!" He clasps the other boy's arm. Shit, he's soaking wet! "The hell?"

Isa's face twitches in pain or annoyance. "What did you expect? When you didn't show I decided to start anyway. It was dead calm and I was trying to fly the kite when the wind suddenly picked up. Before I knew it..." He mimes something being ripped from his hands and tumbling into the sea.

Lea swallows. His heart had jumped at "dead" but he doesn't want to be a girl about it so he folds his arms and snorts, derisive. "You're telling me you fell? Didn't think you were such a klutz." Which isn't entirely true; he's caught Isa on multiple occasions putting salt in his 9pm coffee instead of sugar (the late hours never agree with him). What really doesn't make sense though is Isa doesn't get dragged down by sentimentality. Lea's brows crinkle while he tries imagining his best friend crawling down a cliff face to retrieve a stupid kid's toy, and why was he at the bluffs anyway? The best area for aerial antics was the southern end of the Garden, a wide open space with plenty of room for running without fear of tumbling off a cliff. Seabirds, sunrises and fruit trees were the only things the east had to offer, Isa and Lea's chief activity being watching a new day break, popsicles dangling from their mouths, eyeing off that star shaped fruit all the girls went gaga over. Average climbers at best, they never could scale the tall palms so instead they waited for ripe ones to splatter on the sandy rocks then collected the remains to piff at starry-eyed teenage girls, sprinting away before their meat-headed boyfriends caught them and exacted revenge. Lea figured it was as good a way as any to become memorable.

"Says the loser who lit his hair on fire with candles from his own birthday cake."

Lea rolls his eyes, refusing to be baited. What were you thinking, idiot? How long were you stuck there? When did it happen? You could've been killed. Why didn't you wait for me? A thousand thoughts fly across Lea's mind but he can't grasp a single appropriate thing to say to assuage his friend's trauma or his own guilt. If I hadn't tried snooping around Ansem's stuff... If I'd dragged my lazy ass to Isa's doorstep to let him know I'd be out of commission for a couple of days... Eventually he settles on, "You should've waited for me." He glances away and his gaze falls on something peeking out from behind the bed: a long string adorned with blue and red flags. He perks up immediately, stooping to retrieve the item. "At least it wasn't for nothing." The kite is dry and undamaged. Lea's brows furrow as he tries to work out how that's possible.

Isa looks uncomfortable. To avoid responding he shrugs off his top and dumps it on the far side of the bed, shivering. All the damage here is beneath his skin, bruises purpling like smashed grapes. "I hope Even brings some dry clothing," he says. His tone is conversational. Devoid of emotion. Infuriating, really but Lea knows he won't appreciate an outburst, just grits his teeth and suppresses the burning desire to slap the idiot. Blood is dripping onto the crisp bedsheets, a spasmodic pattern of red blossoms in snow.

"The hell," Lea mumbles. Like a Heartless to light, his hand skims the bloodied surface of Isa's face. Isa grimaces but says nothing. Lea takes a steadying breath. It's okay. He'll be fine. "Gonna leave a nasty scar, I bet," he says noncommittally.

"X marks the spot," Isa deadpans, sending Lea into peals of laughter despite himself.

When he catches his breath and looks at the kite in his hand, it dawns on him that this is probably the last thing Isa wants to see, a reminder of his stupidity. "Time to toss this out, you think?"

Isa gives him a half smile, a crescent moon. "Nah. We'll do it together next time. I'm not giving up just yet."

Years later and Axel can only think the same two words: The hell?

It's how he feels when he sits on the clock tower with Roxas and Xion, laughter coming naturally, warm like a bonfire instead of harsh around the edges and forced through thirteen layers of duplicity. It's how he feels biting into the first sea-salt ice cream of his new existence, ocean spray in his mouth and almost leaking from his eyes, memories of radiant sunrises. He ignores the stab at his temples -"brain freeze", he overhears one of Twilight Town's brats call it - and tries to forget that the icy dessert is nearly the same colour as Isa's hair and only half as cold as Saïx.

It's how he feels when he looks at Roxas and something flicks behind his ribcage. Shwick, he can almost hear, the sound of a match being struck just on the periphery of his hearing, and for a long time he tries convincing himself that it's just wishful thinking. As if to spite him, he feels something shudder inside his chest when they visit an island and he spies the star shaped fruit dangling from a palm, golden and enticing. Xion points and Roxas gawks and Axel tosses a chakram, dislodging it to his friends' whoops and cheers, but when they run over it's hit something on its way down. The fruit has split, innards spilling all over the sand, obscene. Axel has to turn away before he's sick.

Roxas runs away and the mass in Axel's chest kick starts, pumping away.

Saïx is doubled over, head dangling close enough to the ground that his hair is bunched around him. It reminds Axel of the way the waves used to crash against the bluffs back at his once-home. His Claymore is scattered on the other side of the room, stuck into the ground and standing upright like a headstone. Axel darts over, scanning for enemies, chakrams smouldering in his white-knuckle grip. When it seems the area is secure, he dismisses the weapons and hones his gaze on his former best friend. "Where's Roxas?" he says.

Saïx makes a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh, an ugly wet sound choked off at the end. Axel narrows his eyes, demands, "Where is Roxas?" Every syllable is perfectly articulated. The air thrums in anticipation; the hairs on Axel's arms stand to attention. Above, the everlasting night seems to blot out all light and he's never as fervently wished for his former home's winter sky as he does now.

"X marks the spot, Lea."

He raises a hand in warning. "Don't."

"Or it did. He was here. Maybe the pirates got to him."

Axel's teetering dangerously close. Losing his cool won't help, he knows that, but the unruffled attitude of the Nobody before him just makes his temper spike. Why, when they were turned together, does Saïx act inhuman but Axel feels alive? He grabs him around the throat of his jacket and yanks him up so they're nose to nose, wishing he could shake the truth into him. A heart is closer than they all thought if only they would open their eyes and try. Axel craves a reaction but Saïx's dispassion is evinced in the flat line of his mouth, his eyes gleaming beastial yellow, face barren as a winter tundra. "Where the hell is he!" Axel yells. Flecks of spit buffet Saïx's face but he doesn't seem to care. "'I have nothing to say to you'," he states.

"What?" Axel's grip tightens around his former best friend's collar.

"'I have nothing to say to you'. That's what Roxas told me. What a good Nobody, embracing nothing."

That's it. Axel's body burns. He shoves Saïx away, disgusted, before he does something stupid. His hands are twitching, halfway to summoning his weapons and the only thing stopping him is knowing it wouldn't be a fair fight. Ha! Since when have I cared about fair? Did my balls get switched for a hunk of morality with a side of guilty conscience when I wasn't watching? Saïx doesn't react to Axel's laughter, which makes the redhead cackle even more. The sound is harsh angles and jagged corners echoing in the empty area like specters, floating up into nothingness like the seabirds they used to watch disappear into the glare of the sun.

Saïx lifts his head, looks at Axel. His expression is cool though his face is painted the colour of the end of a sunset. "Why do you think Roxas sought me here? Proof of Existence: a fitting place for him to determine his worth, is it not?"

Axel snorts. "You expect me to believe that? Roxas wouldn't go looking for you. You're not important to him." Axel's fingers clench tight, restrained fists, and he turns to leave. Saïx isn't worth his time. Roxas is the one who really needs him now.

A flicker. "Or to you, it would seem."

Axel's back stiffens. "What?"

He hears the other shuffling to his feet. "I used to be. When we first realised what we were. You promised to find our hearts."

That was before you became the Superior's pawn. I miss you dragging my sorry ass out of bed at the crack of dawn to watch the sun come up, jamming a popsicle in my mouth because it's the only way I'll shut up. I miss the time our kite blew into a paopu tree and got a huge rip down one side so we tried taping it up. The sun was long gone by the time we finished and you almost fell asleep. You put salt in your coffee and I laughed so hard I sprayed soda all over the kite so we stayed up all night making a new one. What happened to you, Isa?

It's hard not to feel angry or betrayed (or is it the ghost of feeling? He doesn't know anymore.) He turns his head slightly, dips his chin and doesn't look over his shoulder at the wounded Nobody. When he speaks, his voice is low and shadowed. "I tried. I really did try but it's like you gave up on being whole a long time ago. You're not sad or pissed off or, or... " His hands flit around aimlessly. "You just keep singing the same tune, pining after a fucking heart shaped moon, never stopping to think that there might be an alternative." He's sure of it now, the feeling he gets around Roxas, heart just out of reach like snatches of candlelight flickering from the corner of his eye. It's a feeling he used to get years ago when he was messing around with his best friend. He faces Saïx again, eyes sparking with determination. "What happened to the kid who plowed through a box of ice cream a day, fingers crossed that he'd be a winner? Quitting wasn't in your vocabulary back then. I mean, you climbed down a cliff to rescue a fucking kite."

"That's not the case. I was climbing trees." Saïx brushes past Axel, vanishing his Claymore on the way. The dismissal makes Axel go tch, say, "Like hell you were. Why would you- Ah, forget it. I don't even care. You couldn't climb if your life depended on it."

Now it is Saïx's turn to give Axel the half glance over his shoulder. "And if it did? We do all sorts of things to survive. Unexpected things. Unconscionable things. What happens when you give your heart away and the recipient forgets he has it? Where does that heart end?" He starts walking away. "No matter. There is a safer, truer way to find a heart. It might not be the one I originally had but it will suffice."

The anger burns away and Axel's chest cavity is hollow like the charred out remains of a funeral pyre. This was it: a last ditch effort to tape together their tattered friendship but it's not like their old kite. Saïx is too far gone, doesn't even believe in friendship, just bonds from the past. There's no alternative in his view, only Kingdom Hearts. Axel's not a quitter, he's not, but he knows when to cut his losses, when to snip the strings of that kite and let it get carried away by the breeze. He opens a dark corridor and throws, "Later, loser," over his shoulder before stepping through. Roxas is the only thing that matters now, the only thing Axel sees. What he doesn't see is the flash of sorrowful remembrance on Saïx's face at the insult.

The dark seems to pour down his throat and into his lungs, swelling the space behind his ribcage until he's sure it'll burst out and the only thing keeping it at bay is the thought of Roxas' light. He travels to Agrabah and Atlantica and Wonderland and a plethora of other places, a thousand round the world trips looking for the boy who makes him feel. For some reason he leaves the clock tower until last, afraid he won't be there. When he does arrive, his fears prove real.

What did I expect? The last thing he said to me was he was off to find someone he can trust. As far as he's concerned, that person isn't me. But Roxas... You can trust me. Sure, I might not be honest all the time but it's only because I'm trying to cover both our asses. Why do you have to be so stubborn? Axel's always liked it up here, the closest he'll ever get to flying, but now the drop seems frightening. He sits far back from the edge and watches the sun set on his own, swiping at his face intermittently, a tangled mess of wanting a heart but not wanting to feel. Who would shove hands inside your chest, prise the ribs apart one by one and nestle a ball of emotion there only to abandon you? You think you can do whatever you want. It's not fair, Roxas. You can't have fire without light.

When Axel portals back to his room his eyes fall on the wooden stick left on his pillow like an offering. He spends hours lying there turning it over and over and over again in his hand. WINNER, it calls him. Winner, loser, what difference does it make? In the end, Axel and Lea are on their own.