The sun was setting, casting golden rays across the mahogany bookshelves in the library. Dust motes swirled in the light, dancing to music that no one could hear.
A young man sat at a small table in a shadowy corner, studying a book rather intently. His long, blue bangs hid his violet eyes. He often came to the library; it was one of the few places in Castle Oblivion where he could be left in peace. It was very rare that anyone aside from him and the man he was apprenticed to, Vexen, would come in here. He was glad to be alone, and yet at the same time he hated it. There was no one to talk to, no one to make him feel slightly more human. Zexion, though, considered it a reasonable price for his study time. He needed quite a lot of this time; the answers he desired were proving elusive. He only wished to answer one simple question: who had he been before he'd lost his heart?
Zexion sighed and closed yet another useless book. He was unsuccessful yet again. Stretching, he eyed the two books he'd already read that evening, and then compared them to the other five stacks of books that he still had to go through tonight. They were piled nine high each, towering above his head. As he prepared to crack open another one, a rustle distracted him. He waited for a moment, and, sure enough, it came again.
Both suspicious and curious, he stood up to investigate. He wandered amongst the shelves, searching, yet no one appeared. It made him wonder if he'd imagined the noise. Zexion's stomach growled as he was about to begin another sweep, reminding him that it had been over twelve hours since he'd last eaten. He debated for a short while, torn between hunger and curiosity. Hunger won out in the end, and Zexion worked his way toward the door. Research be damned; he already knew that he wasn't going to find anything about who he once was. As he leaned his full weight on the heavy oak door, a familiar blue object came into view, propped up against a nearby wall. "Hello, Arpeggio," he greeted fondly, as if it were an actual person. It didn't hit him until he was almost out to the corridor who "Arpeggio" belonged to. "Arpeggio?" he gasped, darting back inside to make sure he hadn't been seeing things.
Sure enough, the instrument was still there, confirming his suspicions. Before he could react further, he heard a voice say, "Goodnight, goodnight, for parting 'tis such sweet sorrow, so be it that I say goodnight 'til it is morrow!"
He peered around the corner of a shelf, and there was Demyx, in the library, reading and quoting Shakespeare! It was shock to Zexion that the musician even knew who William Shakespeare was, let alone to find him quoting it without even glancing at the weathered book resting in his palms. "Demyx?" dared the bluenette, taking a tiny step towards him.
The brunette jumped violently, emerald eyes flashing wildly. It was obvious that the eighteen-year-old would have been surprised by Zexion's appearance, but he didn't expect a reaction so violent.
"JESUS CHRIST ZEXION! YOU SCARED THE LIVING HELL OUTTA ME!" yelped Demyx, clasping his hands to his chest. Flushing a deep red, he sheepishly placed the book back onto its shelf. Zexion ignored the rather loud whine from the taller male. "You know Shakespeare?" he asked casually, crossing his amrs and leaning against the wall.
Demyx, caught off guard for a second time, did a pretty impressive impression of a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes looking as if they were going to pop out of his skull at any given moment.
"Oh, well, yeah, I mean, he was a good playwright. Before I lost my heart, I used to love his stories. I've, um, always had a flair for the dramatic and—""Wait, you can remember who you were?" Zexion asked, cutting him off. "I've been trying to research who I was, but I can't find anything!" Demyx shook his head, and he took on an uncharacteristically serious expression. "Your memory simply needs to be unlocked, like with a kind of trigger, like something from the past that was important to you back before now. As far as I can tell from talking to the others, I'm the only one who remembers, so far." He locked eyes with Zexion. "You may not remember who you were, but I do. We were students together. We used to be friends. I remember you," he said softly. Zexion let out a small squeak. "What was your trigger?" questioned Zexion, eyes wide. Demyx smirked bitterly. "I saw you, heard your voice. I remembered." "Do you remember something that could help me? Like a secret handshake or something?" Demyx shook his head again. "I can't do—" "PLEASE! I WANT TO REMEMBER!" Zexion begged. The brunette bit his lip and ran a hand through his spiked hair uncertainly. "Well, if you're really sure…" "I am!" the nineteen year old interrupted quickly. Demyx took a deep breath. "Okay, but if this doesn't work, remember that I only did it because you wanted your old memories back, as well as the new ones. Do you understand?" Zexion nodded, suddenly a little less sure of himself.
"Okay. Here goes nothing," breathed Demyx. Skillfully, he wrapped an arm around the smaller teen's waist, pulling him gently closer. He shifted his hands so that one rested under Zexion's chin, and the other was on the small of his back. The bluenette stiffened; he wasn't doing what he thought he was doing, was he? The Nocturne's lips were barely an inch away from his own now; he knew there was no point in struggling, because Demyx was so much stronger than him, and he was only trying to do what Zexion had asked of him. "Ienzo…," he breathed huskily, and pressed hip lips gently to Zexion's. At first, he did nothing, simply waiting for it to end, and then he surprised himself by wrapping his arms around the brunette's neck, pulling himself closer. Ienzo… it was his name. And he was kissing Deym, the man he loved. It had worked.
Demyx pulled away slowly, breaking Zexion's grasp. "Deym…" whimpered Zexion, burying his face in Demyx's shoulder. "Thank you." "It only takes one trigger," he whispered against the blunette's head. "I love you, Ienzo. Never forget it."