Disclaimer: One would think that it's obvious by now that I don't own anything that SquareEnix has created. :c I don't own Xiggy or Braig. I don't own Demyx. I don't own any of the characters. I don't own Myde, Dyme, Edmy, or whatever Demyx's Somebody has been dubbed. I make no money from this. It's only the reviews that keep me going.
Pairings: Xigbar/Demyx, Braig/Myde
Note: I dunno what to label this fic as. It's not numbered. It's one of those several one-shots in one that comes together? I guess it's called a theme fic? I really don't know. I was inspired by others I saw.
Past. Xigbar had one. He recollected that much. It felt like déjà vu to him- this existence as a Nobody. He was the same person, heart or not. He didn't need a position of power to reveal that much to him. He knew names, faces, and places. That was what mattered to him. He didn't need memories to reveal such. The past would always remain the same whilst the present continuously changed.
Repetition. Braig followed a routine: Guard the castle, poke fun at the others, and research. It was the same thing every day followed by every week. He didn't mind, though. Somebodies were creatures of habit or so it seemed. He had been reduced to three simple verbs: watching, twirling, and waiting. His weapons spun as he loosely tossed them in the air, snatching them to prevent the aftermath of gravity. Here he was; still watching, twirling, and waiting.
Pranks. Both Braig and Xigbar lived for pranks like no other. They ranged from the simple wardrobe malfunction to a bad hair day and ones far worse than that. The other members assumed it was Xigbar's way of coping with his nonexistent state. He didn't tell them that it was because he so desperately wanted to feel.
Hollow. The Freeshooter traced over his battle wounds. His face was void of emotion. He was nothing. The mirror chastised him of his failures. His arrow gun made contact with the glass. Something terrifying sparked in that lone, golden orb as he pulled the trigger. As a shard nicked him on the neck, he simply lowered his weapon. The blood trickled down, slick and dark. There was still nothing. This was a shell of his former self. A ghost of a grin traced over his lips.
Love. Braig didn't believe in love. Neither did Xigbar. It was benign in their lives. Both assumed it to be a ridiculous, stupid thing. Braig dabbled in the science of the heart, not love. He never signed up for the emotion. It wasn't his fault that he fell for a bright-eyed, struggling musician with an almost eerie love of water. Braig cared for Myde. Demyx adored Xigbar. They were left with old memories, forced to create new ones all over again.
Memories. The assistant held hands with the musician as their fingers interlocked. He fondly dubbed the other, 'Water Sprite', whilst the other called him, 'Iggy'. The nicknames were the same plus an X or two. Those were the golden days. There were other memories, of course. Braig constantly bothered Dilan, his best friend. He poked fun of a young genius, a frosty scientist, and an ape-like specimen of a man. Some things never changed.
Nicknames. They were his calling card alongside that peculiar, surfer-esque accent. Little dude. Dude. Buddy. Tiger. Ice King. Medusa. Mansex. Flamesilocks. They went on and on, almost seemingly endless. It kept him entertained. The others didn't admit that the feeling was mutual.
Dreams. Xigbar didn't talk about his dreams like Tiger or Poppet did. That was a fairly dumb idea. They struggled with putting the pieces back together. Xigbar didn't. To them, it was a puzzle. To him, it was a painting. They often asked if he remembered. He grinned and nodded. They often asked if he dreamed. He shook his head and said, "I'd rather be caught dead." They stopped asking after that.
Laughter. The other members didn't understand, couldn't comprehend II. No one understood that mind of his. Vexen came up with a long slew of hypotheses. Xaldin shrugged, only shaking his head as an answer. Luxord was equally bemused and puzzled. Apparently, he couldn't read Xigbar's mental poker face. That was quite alright by them. He chuckled, snickered, and laughed the days away. They still didn't comprehend. Laughter was useless to them, but it was a treasure to Xigbar.
Guns. Demyx adored his sitar. Vexen took pride in his research and experiments. Marluxia had his garden. Xigbar had his guns. They were his and his alone. Bang, bang. Shoot, shoot. Day in and day out. It was so easy. He could shoot with one eye closed or long gone. Braig always knew that happiness was a warm gun.
Corruption. What did he gain out of it? A vaguely different appearance. A corroded soul. Through parted lips, Myde spoke with a sacred smile, "I love you no matter what."
Demons. Xigbar was sure of it. Everything in this organization had their demons. He wasn't about to list his, though. It wasn't a game anymore. Why do you think he always kept an ear to the ground? Secrets were his specialty. He propped a fist under his chin upon his seated throne, eye half lidded. No one was ashamed of their past now. They either lacked one or were apathetic towards one. His demons had died the night Braig did.
Banter. Wouldn't you like to know? How about that, huh? Who're you… Really? It went on that way for what seemed to be forever. Nobody and Somebody alike held a similarity to the Chesire Cat of Wonderland. The banter was his comfortable shield.
Mess. This whole thing was a mess. Braig knew, but ignored it. Xigbar knew, but hid it. He stared at his opponent. Braig and Xigbar's voice was one of the same. Only one word had been changed: "You've really put us… the Organization into a pickle." Who knew that one kid could nearly destroy them all?
Dud. "Man, did the keyblade pick a dud or what?"
Duel. Duel number one ended in a cruel scar and one less eye. Braig fought Terra. Braig fought Ven. They had the keyblade, he did not. Xigbar challenged Roxas at Olympus. Xigbar encountered Sora. Once more, they battled. They had keyblades once more and yet again, he did not. Boy, the keyblade picked some winners all right. Both entities mused this. They both had an unquenchable thirst for fighting. It wasn't the blood, but the labor to shed blood. That was the enticing component of the duel.
Mourning. Demyx was dead…? No. Demyx was gone. Those hours had left Xigbar acting irrationally. The problem was that no one could understand, not even Xaldin. III looked at his companion, "You are well aware that we cannot feel, correct?" Xigbar scowled, "Yeah, Medusa. I am. That doesn't matter, Dude. What matters is the memories of our emotions and the memories of our love. So, back off and shut your trap." It was pointless in arguing. Xaldin dragged him out of the castle, "Don't mourn, then. It makes you look even dumber. Do your job, Xigbar."
Questions. The younger nobodies always turned to them in the midst of their own confusion. He scratched his head. Why didn't they go to Superior? On second thought, he knew why. Roxas asked first," Everyone's so cold. Why are you and Axel the only ones that aren't?" Xigbar responded, "The others forgot, little dude. They lost themselves." Demyx had another, "Xiggy?" He lazily glanced over, "Hm?" The Melodious Nocturne kicked at some dirt, "Why do you fight?" Now, that was more difficult. Xigbar mimicked pain to the best of his abilities, "Because it's all I have left. You're all I have left, Dem."
Mockery. He enjoyed mocking Sora, the keyblade's newest wielder. There was a fierce anger in those cerulean hues that was similar to Roxas'… And Ven's.
Madness. Clever little sneak! Xigbar hissed out the words. Insanity sparked in that golden orb. He was a puppet, subject to false anger, sadness, and even sincerity. Braig was long gone. He danced upon the immaculate floor, bullets flying. Upside down and right side up, it had been Luxord who told him, "Stop this madness, Xigbar. Nothing good will come from it!" Xigbar snickered, "As if! I'm only following orders, Lux."
Pain. Fruition lost. No gain without it. The scars told of a story all his own.
Darkness. The darkness within Braig's heart had given birth to Xigbar. Now, Xigbar had yet to gain from the powerful darkness. He was too apathetic to care by now. The final prank had been pulled on the traitor. It was done. They stood against one another in their final dance. He grinned. The other scowled in defiance. Just like I drowned his goldfish. The heart was magnificent on how it continued on even after life.
Death. It came so naturally. His gaze shifted to the boy's companions. One was some weird, mutant mutt. The other was a duck with clear, anger issues. They worked for the dynamic king. Ven! "Sora! Roxas!" Xigbar shouted, dropping to one knee in a wounded position. The darkness weaved around him. Its embrace was icy and cruel, though he smiled all the more. "Why do you call me that? It's not my name!" The same defiance. "Heh. …Wouldn't… you like to know…?" Those were Xigbar's last words before his true death. At least he would be reunited, Nobody or Somebody, heart or not; with the one he cared about. The cruelty of the darkness united them permanently.