Chapter One
Today's dreary weather and last night's rendezvous gave Roxas nothing but a splitting, throbbing headache and foot rot on both feet. It hurt enough to think of how to get home, let alone do the actual walking. His senses were dysfunctional, if any type of functional at all. Sight, blurred with spots for every step he could manage. Smell, snuffed out by the earthy odor of worms as they were washed out of the ground. Taste, nothing but dry, sour saliva. Touch, each twitch of muscle wrought his body with so much pain he could feel no texture. And hearing... Nothing but the squish of leather boots against puddles and asphalt.
Roxas soon fell behind everyone else. Of the five Nobodies in his group, Roxas should have had the most energy. All of the others were older than him, bodies worn out with the toll of time. Zexion only had a few years on him, but he was just as alert and upright as Zexion could be. ... Not that Zexion was a spastic Nobody, unlike the eternally eager Demyx.
"Hurry up, Thirteen," Xaldin's coarse voice hollered from the front of the group. "No one wants to carry your corpse home." Of course, no one stopped to look back at him. No one ever did. Little Number Thirteen, always trailing behind everyone else – never quite keeping up with the rest of the group. Always has to be slowing them down with his youthful sluggishness. "Not quite up to the mark, but getting there." "Showing promise."
That's what they all said about him.
"Hey, Roxas."
Except Number Eight.
"Number Eight." He acknowledged the red-head that had slowed down to his pace, now walking his right. Roxas turned his eyes up enough to glance through his sopping wet bangs. They clung to his face, the dirty blonde colour darkened considerably by the rain.
"I told you, Rox, just call me Axel." Axel's emerald eyes sparkled. Little prick. Trying to be a ray of sunshine in the dark of the storm.
"Leave me alone, Axel." Roxas grumbled, turning his face away. "I'm not in the mood to be talking to anyone." Axel poked him playfully, but painfully, on the shoulder.
"We don't have emotions." He pointed out, widely grinning. "You have no mood. Got it-"
"YES, I HAVE IT FUCKING MEMORIZED!"