title; burn this city
author; coffeeshop
rating; pg-13
summary; in this modern day, roxas lives as a high school senior with no recollection of his past life. axel lies for dead in a hospital, until he wakes up one day and remembers. everything. now the only thing left was to find roxas. au, akuroku.
disclaimer; i don't own. ;(

Oh at least we know
That if we die, we lived with passion…

--

Right before his death--if it could be considered a death (we were never actually alive, anyways)--I had asked him what he wanted to do after we'd found our hearts and were living, truly living, again.

He'd given me a small, lopsided half-grin that was brilliant but heartbreaking in the way that only he could smile.

I don't know. Maybe…

There was a quiet silence, half-comfortable yet half-not as we waited for his next sentence.

Maybe I'll go to the sea.

Yeah.

Yeah, that'd be nice.

It was quiet then, and we didn't talk much more, just sitting in the comfort of being next to each other while we still could, still on the same side as friends-not-enemies. We dangled our feet over the edge of the clocktower, surveying the dizzying drop to Twilight Town so far below and the scintillating lights glinting off of bright shingles. The air fell heavy and warm, tingling with the quiet electricity always subtly present before a thunderstorm.

His hair had been flaxen-gold, resting in stylish spikes over his eyes, which were half-lidded and watching the horizon. If I had been able to feel, I would have felt absurdly warm and light at the sight of him, at that one perfect moment.

But then the sun had set, and the air had grown colder--another hour passed so slowly until finally, it was time for him to leave.

We rose to our feet, me shakily, him calmly. Firmly. He'd already decided, for good, then.

Will you visit sometimes?

Of course. A smirk. I'd love to.

We'd both laughed at the irony of it, like he wasn't betraying me--betraying us--with every step he took, leaving this, leaving me--

Don't, I had wanted to say, Don't leave, don't go, please don't please stay with me please Roxas I love you.

And that was the night that he died. Because after that, Roxas was never alive to me. Roxas as I knew was gone, as dead as a Nobody could ever hope to be. Standing from the sidelines of darkened streets, lingering in the scents of decaying flesh and acidic rain, watching the laughing and the smiling and the brightness through the glass--it was never really living.

Still, the sight of Roxas on that one night, silhouetted against the backdrop of flickering lights and cutting skyscrapers slicked with rain, limbs rigid and Keyblades drawn and angled tense and sharp, was an image that was burned into the depths of my soul. It was so painful, and so heart wrenchingly beautiful to see the skinny boy with the bleeding golden hair and piercing eyes, standing so tall yet so broken against the fluorescence of the night city.

Hey, don't you know me? Don't you remember me? Don't you still love me?

Hey, Roxas--

It's not really your name, but then again, you're not really you.

You're not really you, because we--

We don't really exist, do we?

Hey, this is how we're gonna die. Hey, don't you want to remember this? It can be your first memory--

Hey, we'll find each other in the next life. Hey, I think I might still lo--

-

Cause our days were numbered
By nights on too many rooftops...
They said we'd burn so bright,
We'd burn this city and go.

-

"F-fuck."

Roxas gritted his teeth in irritation. The rhythm of the hot water hitting the tiles of the shower stall was not loud enough to disguise the hushed moans floating through the steamy air.

There was a soft cry, and then someone made a shushing sound.

The blonde furiously scrubbed at his skin, trying to ignore the sounds. Finally, he cut the water and stepped out, shivering as the cold air slapped his bare skin. He glanced around the boys locker room, spotting the two towels draped over a small shower bench.

Roxas contemplated stealing one (or both) as revenge on the two for exposing his poor, poor ears to such vulgarity, but then figured that no towels equaled more exposed skin, and that the two horny bastards going at it in the showers would probably proceed to dry off in more… intimate ways. Ugh. He grimaced and vowed that he would never sit on the locker room benches ever again.

He padded through the rows of grey-green lockers until he got to his. Stuffing his soccer jersey and cleats into a small duffel, he swung it over his shoulder and headed towards the door, hurrying as he heard the shower water stop and disembodied voices drift through the room.

"…might have heard us," one was saying worriedly. Roxas didn't stay to hear more--he did not want to know which of his teammates were screwing in the locker room showers.

The cold November air stung sharply at Roxas' face as he stepped outside, his wet hair hanging uncomfortably cold against his skin. He could feel his fingers trembling as they reached into the pocket of his jeans, trying to grasp onto a sleek silver cell phone.

"Damnit," the blonde cursed. He was never very good at texting, and now the added shakiness of his hands would leave him typing gibberish. Oh well, he sighed, I guess that means I'll have to call. His mother had always told him that calling was more thoughtful than texting, anyways.

Pressing two on his speed dial, he waited for the line to connect while he shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to stay warm.

Hello? The line on the other end was finally answered, and Roxas grinned in relief.

"Hey, Nami," he greeted, face softening at the sound of her voice despite the cold weather biting at his cheeks.

There was a quiet giggle, which Roxas knew meant that she was happy to hear from him.

Hi, Roxas. Done with practice? She inquired, and Roxas could just see her curled up in a large oversized sweater, textbooks spread open all around her, phone cocked between an ear and one thin shoulder.

"Mhm," Roxas paused as shiver racked his thin frame, making his teeth chatter slightly. "Just waiting for my mom to come pick me up."

Are you okay? It's really cold out, Namine's clearly concerned voice faded in and out, and it sounded as if she was getting up.

"Yeah, she should be here any minute," Roxas assured her. "I just wanted to call and see how you were doing."

He could hear the smile her the blonde girl's voice. I baked cookies this afternoon, she told him, laughing softly. I'll bring a bag for you tomorrow.

"Aw, thanks, Nami." They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up, leaving Roxas with a silly smile plastered across his face. Talking to his girlfriend slash best friend of ten years usually did that to him.

He checked his watch impatiently, rubbing his hands together to get the blood flowing. It was already 6 o'clock, and his mother wasn't anywhere in sight. All his other teammates had already left, thanks to Roxas' tendency to wait until all the showers were cleared to take his, so hitching a ride with someone else was out of the question.

Just as he was contemplating how long it would take for his fingertips to turn blue, he heard the rumble of an engine as his mother's car rolled in front of him.

"Finally!" He declared loudly as he swung the door open to a wave of hot air.

"Hurry up and close the door, Roxas," his mother ordered, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of his exposed calves. "Are you wearing shorts, young man? Do you have any idea how cold it is outside?"

"Yes, I'm well aware," the blonde boy grumbled before finally dumping his bag into the backseat and slamming the door shut.

The car finally pulled away from the curb, leaving a cloud of smoke in its wake.

There was no one left to notice the shadowy figure detach itself from the wall and trudge down the sidewalk, shoulders set low in defeat.

--

"How is he doing?" The voice speaking was uncharacteristically soft, the speaker's speech hesitant and lilting.

"Which one?" Another voice--male, and tired, by the sound of it--answered.

There was a pause. "Both." The first speaker threw off the dark hood of her jacket, revealing bright blonde hair. Electric eyes peered out from under the shadows of two slanting bangs.

The male was silent, and the air hung heavy with the striking realization of what had happened, exactly, to their former comrades.

"He's…"

"Demyx?" The girl prompted. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes. "What is it? How is Ro--how is he?"

"…He doesn't remember," Demyx finally finished. He stumbled back and fell down onto an uncomfortable wooden chair, burying his head into his hands. His lips were pursed pensively, tension creasing the tanned skin on his forehead.

"Doesn't remember? W-What--he's forgotten about us?"

Demyx frowned, but didn't answer. The girl frowned angrily, her eyes flashing in disgust.

"Damnit. Damnit, Demyx, how the fuck did this happen? H-How come when we finally find him, he can't--"

The blonde man stood and drew the girl into his arms. She was pressed uncomfortably against him, but neither of them moved to step away.

"I know, Larxene. We're all still searching, but I don't--I don't know how much longer we can still keep A--"

Larxene cut him off. "No," she bit out stubbornly, "he's not ready yet, he hasn't--he needs to remember everything."

She paused.

"He needs to remember everything… before he can see Roxas."

--

"Oh. Oh, hey, h-hey!" Axel glanced over at Roxas, amusement evident in his green eyes.

"Whoa there," he'd grinned easily. "Sure got to you pretty quick, eh Rox? Better slow down a bit."

"S-Shut up, Axel," Roxas stuttered out, dissolving into a fit of giggles. "Th-this stuff is--is--its f-fucking amazing."

Axel nodded leisurely, reclining so that his legs were stretched out fully, eyes slitting from the enormity of his contented smile slash yawn. The view from the Tower was amazing, the redhead pondered happily, eyesight wonderfully blurred by the drug.

Axel and Roxas had been sent on a mission to a city called Midgar, a twisted, metal abomination growing in the middle of nowhere. It had fingering, black spirals of metal heaped on metal, melted together from hot rays of chemical sunlight, fusing dust and bone and iron together into a blackened alloy. The city twisted outwards in creeping shadows, ever expanding over the plains. To the north were expanses of darkened, abandoned beaches, and looming mountains flanked it from the west.

The two had been forced to climb over these mountains--somehow the whole portal thing refused to work near the scity, probably because of all the thick, choking smog that polluted the surrounding air.

The orders had been to find a scientist named Hojo--the orders were to capture (alive) and run, killing only if necessary. After completing the mission aka successfully handing the captive over to Xigbar, they had wandered around the city and had met a man in the slums, an apparently well known dealer amongst the locals. Axel had successfully bargaining a bagful of green-ish gray powder after exchanging a few, brief lines and a few notes. Axel had only smirked at Roxas when the blonde had inquired what the drug was. He'd caught the man muttering something about mako and moogle-blood before he'd been hurriedly whisked away by the redhead.

And now they were on the top of the tower once more, overlooking the golden city spread out at their feet. Axel had taught Roxas how to roll the sticks, and then how to blow the smoke so that it didn't burn and smart in the eyes. After a few tries, Roxas had quickly become adept at it, what with his strange penchant for picking up small tricks easily.

"F-fuck," Roxas was giggling. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his face was bright with exhilaration. "What the fuck is this shit? S-Shit."

Axel patted his head, lovingly. "It's nice, isn't it?" His face twisted into a soft smile, eyes alighting on Roxas' features, open and shining. It was almost worth the horrible lows brought about as an aftereffect of the mako after it had worn off.

"Y-yeah," Roxas had agreed, and then he had leaned his head onto Axel's shoulder, his blonde spikes tickling the redhead's cheek. Axel was warm, Roxas had thought contentedly. Axel was warm, and his brain felt fuzzy and light and empty. It was like he was seeing the world through a glowing screen--everything looked golden and warm and untouched. For the first time, he thought that his heart--his would-be heart--felt full. Roxas decided that he rather liked it.

--

Restoration at 89 percent and rising…

"Axel--Axel's improving," Larxene crowed excitedly, her mouth curving up into a grin filled with childish glee. "Demyx, Dem, Dem--he's almost there."

Demyx beamed back, before his face clouded slightly. "I wonder if he'll remember…"

Larxene tched. "Of course he'll remember," she'd tutted fiercely, golden eyebrows drawn down in harsh angles. "Of course he'll remember--why wouldn't he?"

"Ro--"

"We don't know that," Larxene said suddenly, her eyes looking forcefully into Demyx's with the sudden epiphany. "O-Oh my god, Demyx, don't you realize that? When you saw him, he--you wouldn't have been able to tell, Dem! It's not like he would just be talking about this previous life he remembers to everyone he knows--for all we know, h-he remembers, but he doesn't know what it is he is remembering, exactly! There's a chance, Dem." Excitement danced in her glowing blue eyes.

Demyx nodded, slowly. His eyes turned back to Axel. The redhead was still covered in bandages, the white gauze circling willowy limbs and pale, pale skin. His eyes were closed, and Demyx could see the constant movement behind the lids. Axel was waking up.

"He's going to come to any day now," Demyx said quietly, almost sadly.

Larxene smiled sadly. "Yeah. He'll remember, Demyx. After all, we've remembered, haven't we?"

The blonde didn't respond. Outside, the sun was setting, coloring the skies orange and red in a not-so-perpetual twilight.

--

Roxas jumped as his cell suddenly vibrated. He scrambled to pat down the multiple pockets in his pants, trying desperately to remember where he'd stuffed it last so that he didn't look like he was giving himself a pat-down.

He sighed in relief as his fingers wrapped around the small object, flipping it open to find a text from his friend, Hayner.

sup rox, we r at pences. come if u can, ok.

Roxas sighed in disbelief. Why would Hayner text him that when the boy knew Roxas was still in the middle of his shift?

As if reading his mind, Roxas' boss, Cid, stuck his head from out of the kitchen.

"Konstinsky, if your ass is not working right now, I will kick it so hard and so far that y--"

A quick, effective jab to the older man's side thanks to Yuffie sufficiently drew his attention away from Roxas, who scurried back to the counter quickly, a chill running up and down his spine.

"H-Hi," Roxas managed to smile weakly at the customer, knees shaking at the very thought of his scarily looming boss. "Welcome to Cid's Café, how may I help you?"

The young woman pursed her lips thoughtfully, large green eyes scanning the menu above his head thoughtfully. "Hm, I suppose I'll have… medium latte, and one medium bagel, plain, please."

Roxas' fingers quickly punched the order into the flat screen of his computer, and nodded up at her, smiling briefly. "Will that be all, ma'am?" He questioned politely. She confirmed her order with a quick smile and stepped aside for the next customer.

"Hello," Roxas greeted the next woman, "Welcome to Cid's Café, how may I--"

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand encircle his wrist and pull, sending him stumbling back with a soft yelp, the woman on the other side staring incredulously on at the scene.

"W-Wha--" Roxas tried to exclaim, but the hand shushed him, dragging him off to a darkened corner behind the counter. The blonde was well accustomed to getting lewd propositions from all kinds of weird people in the café, but no one had ever tried to drag him away and--and molest him in the store before!

"Who the fuck are you?" Roxas spit angrily. He glared at the man's face, shadowed by a dark hood. Damn customers, the blonde thought bitterly. They weren't even allowed back here, and--and when did the guy get behind the counter, anyways? Roxas was sure he would have noticed it--

"It's me, Roxas!" The man voiced earnestly, throwing the hood back and revealing a head full of blonde… mohawk?

"…" Roxas stared at his hair, mouth twisting in silent awe. Wow, he thought admiringly, that--that was really something. Any person with enough patience to do that up every morning couldn't be all that bad, could they?

"Roxas, it's me, Demyx!" The blonde continued, his eyes searching Roxas' own somewhat desperately. He faltered.

"Roxas, d-don't you remember me…?"

Roxas remained silent, somewhat stunned at the sudden barrage of questions.

"Uh, I--I uhm, I'm sorry, I've got to get back to work," he managed to stutter out, before twisting out from the shadows of the corner and back behind the counter, where his good friend Cloud had been covering for him.

Roxas shivered, thinking back to the strange man. How had he known Roxas' name? He'd never seen the man before in his life…

The blonde turned back to look back into the corner, where he expected to see the other blonde, Demyx, to be sulking, glaring at Roxas or maybe even looking hurt and lonely. But to Roxas' surprise, there was no one standing there. Ugh, he needed to be more attentive--he at least should have seen the other blonde leave through the back door or something.

"Hey," Cloud touched Roxas' shoulder, and the smaller boy shook off the last of his thoughts away.

"Thanks, Cloud," he uttered gratefully.

Cloud brushed it off, but his blue eyes were frowning. "What were you doing, Roxas?"

Roxas tensed, but didn't say anything. "Talking to some guy, I don't even really know him," he said tiredly.

"Really?" Cloud inquired curiously. "I didn't see anyone there…"

"Konstinsky! Strife!" Cid's angry face peered in from behind the doors, eyes bright with anger. "Get your asses working right this fucking minute, you little fu--FUCK! YUFFIE!"

Roxas sighed. He didn't know why he was still working here, sometimes.

--

"Shit--! Larxene, he's waking up."

The blonde girl forced her eyes open, her posture suddenly rigid and alert. "I…" she breathed, but Demyx shushed her.

Axel's hand twitched.

"Larx, you have to understand. There's a really great chance that he won't remember anything…"

Larxene didn't say anything, but urged him on with a resenting yet chilling glare.

"Roxas doesn't remember, and you know, they can see Roxas. If they can see Axel too, well, I mean…"

"It would make sense, wouldn't it?" Larxene sighed. "I--I just thought that, you know, finally we've found them, and now maybe…"

"…We could find everyone again," Demyx finished for her. "Me too. I don't understand why, either, Larx, but that's why we have to wait until Axel wakes, because he's the only one who can talk to Roxas. Even if--even if they both don't remember."

Larxene nodded, somewhat miserably. She glanced over at Axel, whose lips were forming silent words. Demyx hovered his hand a few inches above the redhead's face, feeling for air.

"No sound," he concluded finally. "He's not really talking."

They watched their comrade in silence, for a few moments, before Larxene drew a sharp breath.

"Demyx, look, his eyes! Look, his eyes, they're opening--

--and I finally know that now Roxas please don't go there's so much I still need to tell you there's so much you still don't know don't go don't go please I love you R--

"--oxas!"

Axel's eyes flew open.

author's note; lyrics are from cartel's 'burn this city.' i personally don't think this is a great chapter, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone, and first chapters are always hard for me. it will get better, i promise. (: