There was a reason, and it was Roxas.
Axel smiled to himself as the sunlight started to fade away, his head feeling clouded and soft, his throat harbouring a lovely and strange lump. He could feel - oh, yes, he could. He could feel the light on his skin and the hollow in his chest, the absence of a beat and that nagging longing that made him want to be complete...but it had faded to a dull ache, more painful than ever before, and it had never mattered less. His cloak felt heavy, his arms were cold and his face was perfect, basking in the slow light that lit him up and then disappeared so fleetingly, plunging him once again into icy darkness...but not before twilight came.
He was alone.
But something was coming - he was sure of it, sure enough that the heart he'd lost was beating away somewhere, pumped with adrenaline and raring to meet this opportunity - to run away with it lifting him towards the sky. A laugh bubbled in his throat and he released it, loving hysteria and disbelief and knowing that something wonderful was going to happen. Something amazing. Someone amazing.
It was silly, really, to subject himself to the cold and the wind and the heights, just so he could feel slightly alive, for once...but it was worth it. Climbing the clocktower was worth it, and this apocalypic, epic feeling he'd never even imagined before was so intense that his chest tightened almost as if the heart was dodging out of reach - so close he could almost touch it but kept missing, frustration building. He could have cried and laughed and screamed all at once, wanting in that brief moment to throw himself off of the clocktower just to see if he could fly. His throat ached for an expression of the feeling, not content with a dramatic whisper or words spoken in disbelief - it wanted a rushing, orgasmic cry to ring out across the town with enough volume to be heard, enough feeling to be noticed, enough strength to be heeded.
Tears coursed their way from his eyes into his smile, tasting salty and sweet, like blood. He didn't understand any of it, wondering if he remembered crying from before, or if this was just him feeling these things, not a scattered memory like a far-off dream...He hoped it was. He hoped he wasn't nobody to everyone.
He hoped this feeling wasn't a lie, because there had been too many in the past and too many lying in wait in the future...
He hoped he was happy.