This is an old story that I wrote some time ago that was originally going to be a novel chronicling Demyx's time in the Organization, with an emphasis on his friendship with Xigbar. But…I got bored, and I decided I really didn't want to make this into a novel, after all. And so I'm not. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed the chapters I had already written up, so I just decided to edit them and make them into a short story.

All characters, locations, etc. are property of Square Enix and Disney, not I, says the Duck.

The Arrival of Nine

Chapter 1: Awakening

All that Dyme remembered of when the Heartless invaded his hometown was panic and confusion at first, and then the Heartless began to latch onto all those around him, covering them up like a squirming, black shroud, before their victims just…disappeared as their hearts were devoured. And then they were upon him, too, and he couldn't get away, and then…

Blackness.

And now he was cold. And numb. Not like in his body, though, but in his chest. He really should feel something after what had happened. But, he didn't. Just emptiness. Was that a feeling?

He lay, unmoving, face down on something hard and rough and cold. How he had survived the attack, he had no idea, but he couldn't bring himself to look up. He didn't know what he'd see. More Heartless or just empty, lifeless streets? He didn't want to see either.

Why'd all the bad things have to happen to him anyway? He had just turned 15, and in less than a year now, he was going to quit school and become a wandering musician. And he wouldn't get bullied anymore because he would no longer be a loser. So much for that dream.

The teen groaned and turned his head, eyes still closed. He'd have to open them eventually. Unless they were open already, and he was just dead. It was silent enough and cold enough for death. But, if you could feel and hear when you were dead (the only thing audible was himself, but that was still a sound), shouldn't you be able to see, as well?

Dyme forced his eyes open, his cheek resting on a cobblestone street. This place didn't look like his home at all. At least, not from this angle. He pushed himself up to get a better view of his new location, finding himself in some sort of a square lined with old-fashioned buildings and several large, wooden gates in tall walls. Strange, crooked streetlamps were all lit in response to nighttime, and seeing as no one was out and no light shone from the windows, Dyme could only figure it must be very late.

He rose to his feet. Why was he so shaky? He brushed off his clothes, not so much because they were dirty as from procrastination. Then, his head shot up, and he spun in a circle. No fair! Where was his guitar? And why wasn't he more upset by the loss of his most precious possession? He loved that guitar. Even more than he loved rocky road ice cream, and he loved absolutely anything with marshmallows. The only thing that would make his guitar better was if it was made with marshmallows. Okay, no, maybe that would be a little weird….

"Ah, man." The words came out in a monotone. What was wrong with him?

He hung his head and sniffed. He should be crying right now. No matter what people said, it was okay to cry sometimes. Especially when you woke up alone in some weird town in the middle of the night, with no guitar. But, try as he may, he couldn't muster up any sort of emotion. He looked up and forced a frown. There.

Dyme rubbed his arms. It sure was cold out. And he didn't have a jacket. With nothing better to do, he began walking, in no direction in particular. He stopped to stare at a rather bizarre postbox before heading up some steps. As he walked down the street, hugging himself for warmth, he considered the doors he passed. It was late, but if he knocked on one, would he find any help? Eventually, he decided against it. Nah, strangers could be mean. And they'd probably just be mad at him for waking them up.

He reached a door that didn't lead into a building, but through a wall. He considered it for a moment before he shrugged and went through. Can't get anymore lost than I already am. He found himself in a larger space than where he had woken up, lined with various stores, all closed for the night, and a hotel. His hands went down to check his pockets for munny. Maybe he could at least get a room to stay for the night. He hated being out in the dark. That's why he still had a nightlight in the hallway, even at his age. Nothing good ever happened at night. This night was proof of that. But, after rummaging around for longer than was needed for such small spaces, he found his pockets to be empty, save for a single, blue guitar pick.

Dyme held the object in the palm of his hand, and as he stared at it, he just knew it was making fun of him. Not only was Dyme a loser, scaredy-cat, but he was broke and couldn't find his guitar. He raised his arm over his head and tossed the pick with all his might. It didn't go very far, however, simply landing several feet away, where it bounced once on its edge before going still.

"Stupid pick." There was too little emotion in his voice. It was frustrating and yet…it wasn't. Why can't I at least feel frustrated? Give me that much! "Stupid…stupid me!" That last bit he yelled much louder than he intended, the lack of feeling making it sound even more foolish. A light flicked on from the upper story of one of the buildings nearby, no doubt in response to his outburst.

"Looks like we got another one. Just a scrawny kid, though. We already have a few of those."

His head shot over to the sound of a voice. Someone in a black coat stood a short distance away, a man by the sound of the voice, face invisible under a dark hood. The darkness of the man's attire made him almost impossible to spot at this late hour. How long had he been standing there anyway? He didn't even hear him walk up.

Dyme took a few steps back, more out of instinct than from fear. After losing his home to the Heartless and finding himself alone in a strange town in the middle of the night, alone except for a man in a black coat, he really should be afraid. Heck, spiders in a brightly lit room freaked him out enough as it was. And yet, right now, he still couldn't feel a thing.

The man strode forward. "So, what brings you to Traverse Town?"

Dyme backed up further. "I-I don't know."

The man laughed. "That was actually a rhetorical question. I know exactly why you're here. Unless I'm mistaken," he stopped as he put his hands on his hips and shook his head, "I'd say that you lost your heart to the darkness."

"But, I didn't do anything wrong." He knew Heartless could steal a person's heart, but it still couldn't be that simple. It wasn't fair. At least, this guy didn't have to say it like he did something bad.

The man laughed again. Nothing about this was funny. "Didn't have to. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people. And sometimes, bad things happen to bad people." He put a hand to his chin. "Huh, I guess that confirms it. Bad things happen to everyone. What do ya know."

"Am I a Heartless?"

The man snorted. "As if." He chuckled and continued, "Looks like I have a lot of explaining to do. What's your name, kid?"

Should he give his name out to this weirdo? His grandma always told him not to even talk to strangers in the first place. But, she wasn't here right now. He had no idea where she might be, but she certainly wasn't here. "Dyme."

"Dyme, huh? That's a strange name. Listen, Dyme, I think it's time you got a new name. I think I'm gonna call you…" Was this guy crazy? He couldn't just give someone a new name. "Demyx. Not bad, huh? Much better than your old name."

"No. Change it back."

"Too late. Already changed it. Wouldn't want to go hurtin' my feelings, now would you?"

No one was changing his name. It was Dyme. Always was. Always would be.

"Well, look at me. How impolite. I haven't introduced myself yet." The man grabbed his hood with one hand and pulled it back. "Name's Xigbar."

This man was going to kill him. Never before had Dyme seen a man as terrifying as this one. The man before him had a long, black ponytail streaked with grey, with one eye covered by an eye patch. The other side of his face had a long, jagged scar running diagonal across his cheek, ending just under his one good eye, an eye that was an inhuman golden color.

The man smiled, a toothy grin that only made him look even more like he was going to murder Dyme any moment now. "Hey, I'd almost say you were scared right now, if that was possible." Until this man, this Xigbar, mentioned it, Dyme hadn't even realized his back was pressed up against the wall of the building behind him. Xigbar wagged a finger at him. "Don't go judging people on their appearances, though. If we all did that, I'd assume you were a skinny, little dork."

"Am not."

"Didn't say you were. I'm saying if I was judging you based on your looks."

Just then, a black portal rose up out of nowhere. What was going on now? The man gestured to it with one arm as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. "In ya go. I'm takin' you home."

Dyme highly doubted the home this man was referring to was the same one he had in mind.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna murder you," Xigbar added, which was less than reassuring, especially when the man kept grinning at him like that.

This was horribly and utterly against what his grandma had taught him. She never needed to specifically warn him not to go through an evil looking portal with a terrifying man in a black coat, and she didn't need to. Dyme shook his head.

"Don't make me carry you. That would make both of us look pretty silly."

Could he outrun this guy? Probably not. The man watched him, his wolf-like golden eye half-closed, but no less sharp. "Don't even think about it." As if resigning himself to the fact that further explanation was obviously necessary, the way Dyme showed no signs of budging, the man started to stroll forward. "You wanna know why you ended up in this strange town, with no emotions, right? The whole reason you're here is because the Heartless swallowed up your world, and you can't feel because they also took your heart." He stopped before Dyme and poked him in the chest. "You're a Nobody now, just like me."

Dyme hung his head. "I'm not a nobody." Strangers were mean.

"Not that kind of nobody. You're certainly the most sensitive Nobody I've ever met, though." Xigbar moved to stand beside him and put an arm around Dyme's shoulders. "Now come on. I don't take 'no' for an answer."

The man led him to the portal, only exerting more force when Dyme attempted to drag his feet. No way was his heart really gone. It couldn't be. He was just numb after what had happened. And his world was gone, too? How could the Heartless eat an entire world? This man had to be lying. There was no way… And his grandma…

Dyme stopped just before the blackness of the portal. "I don't want to go in there."

"Too bad."

It was cold. So cold. No, it wasn't cold, it was freezing in here! Corridors of Darkness? Was that what the man called this place? He hadn't been paying much attention because he wanted out. And then when he finally was, he immediately wanted to escape from his newest location.

They were now surrounded by tall, dark buildings, looming over him and watching him with countless, empty windows. Like Traverse Town, it was also nighttime here, and the streets were empty, but something about this place just felt…wrong. No life resided behind those windows like it did in Traverse Town. He didn't need to see it to know. Further inspection of his surroundings found a most bizarre tower, raised up on steps, with a jumble of screens at the top. As he stared upwards, trying to figure out just what in the worlds those screens were even for, a drop of rain landed in his eye, and he immediately looked down and blinked to rid himself of the discomfort it had caused.

He heard the portal close behind him and the man's footsteps as Xigbar strode by. "Welcome to the World That Never Was. Nice place, huh? Always cold and dark and rainy, and there's not a thing to be found here but Heartless and us." He laughed. "It's quiet, at least."

"What's that?" Dyme pointed to the strange tower as the light drizzle began to pick up.

"That? Memory's Skyscraper. Kinda creepy, huh?"

"Well, what is it?"

"How should I know? I didn't put it there." Xigbar started to head for a street leading off past the tower. Without looking back, he waved for Dyme to follow. "Come on."

Not wanting to be left alone in this empty place, he ran to catch up with the man. "Where are we going now?"

"You ask a lotta questions, kid. We're goin' to the Castle That Never Was. I could've taken you straight there, but I thought I'd show you the city first."

"The Castle That Never Was? Like the World That Never Was?" They certainly had a habit of giving things long names here. Didn't they have a way to shorten them?

"Aren't you insightful."

"So what's the city called? The City That Never Was?"

Xgbar chuckled. "Could be."

Dyme started to shiver. By now, he was soaking wet, and rain was dripping from his hair into his face. He wiped water away from his eyes. How could Xigbar stand it? The man didn't look perturbed at all. He had a hood. Why didn't he use it? Dyme certainly would have.

"So you're probably wondering what happens when we get to the castle."

Dyme nodded. Well, he actually wasn't wondering because he was so focused on the rain, but now that Xigbar mentioned it…

"You'll have to speak up. If the eye patch is any indication, I can't see you on that side."

"Yeah, I guess. Nothing scary's gonna happen, right?" He didn't even notice he was on the man's blindside. Was there some kind of half-blind person etiquette? Wait, was that weird? That certainly wasn't a question he'd voice out loud.

The man laughed again. How was it, if they were both Nobodies, that Xigbar could laugh when Dyme couldn't? At least, he was sure he wouldn't be able to without it sounding fake. "No, nothing scary. I'm just bringin' you to our Superior so you can join the Organization."

Dyme stopped in his tracks. This had gone on far enough. "No, I'm-I'm not joining any...Organization."

Xigbar turned to face him fully. "Oh, yes, you are."

He shook his head wildly from side to side. No. He was getting himself a new guitar, and he was going to be a wandering musician. Once he got out of this creepy city, that is.

"You can shake your head 'til it falls off. You are joinin' the Organization, and there's nothing more to it."

"No. No, I can't! I…" He started to back away, something he had been doing quite a lot of today, while the man did little more but watch him with an amused expression on his face. Dyme's hands formed into fists, and he tried to stand taller, the most defiant stance he knew, which probably wasn't very defiant at all. "I…I'm going to become a wandering musician. Just like I always planned on. I can't join this Organization you're talking about." He crossed his arms. Just because he was a Nobody now, that certainly didn't mean he had to give up on his dreams. …Did it?

Dyme's hope that Xigbar would see reason was dashed as soon as the man burst into laughter.

"It's not funny! Stop laughing at me!" the teen said, with much less conviction than he would have liked.

"Is that all you got? You think I care about some kid's goofy, little dreams? As if! Listen, Demyx…"

"It's not Demyx. It's Dyme."

"Demyx. The sooner you stop fighting it, the easier it'll be. What kind of musician can you be with no heart? If you join the Organization, you can get your heart back. See…" he held up one hand, palm facing up, "join the Organization and become a Somebody again," and then the other, "then you can do whatever you darn well please with your life. Plain and simple."

Dyme wanted to cry. He couldn't, but he wanted to. Not that it would make any difference to this guy, though.

Receiving no response, Xigbar continued, "So quit grimacing at me like that and let's go." After the teen still made no reply, he turned away. "Fine, suit yourself," he said, before starting to make his way down the street again. Without looking back, he gave one last wave, "Have fun out here."

Dyme forced himself to sniffle as the rain grew stronger and streamed down his face. The only tears he could manage, it seemed, were not really tears at all. He never would have guessed that when he woke up this morning, everything he cared about would be gone by the end of the day. And the worst thing of all was that he couldn't even grieve over any of it. His chest was as empty and as hollow as the buildings that surrounded him.

He wiped more rainwater from his face and looked off down the street. The man was already lost from sight, Dyme's vision hindered by the downpour creating a white haze in all directions. He gave up on his attempts at emotion and walked a ways, feet splashing in puddles forming on the asphalt, until he found a covered area that could shield him from the storm. He went under it, getting drenched extra, not that it made much of a difference at this point, from the curtain of rain pouring down around the edge of the overhang, and peered through the glass doors at the lobby within. A fake lobby. No people had ever gone through it, had they? He forced his gaze away and sat down with his back to the building.

Well, this was a rotten way to spend his time. Not that things were that great before, getting picked on by the other kids in school because he wasn't as cool or as tough (or as hairy, but Dyme didn't really want to be hairy) as the other guys. Even his friends were jerks. Hey, he was a nice guy. Shouldn't that count for something? His grandma said that was the most important thing of all. But now, his grandma was gone.

He buried his face in his hands. His grandma had been like a mom to him, ever since his own mom had died of some illness he had forgotten the name of because he had been little at the time and because he had never bothered to ask about it when he got older. And that was after his father left and was never heard from again. Everything in his life was rotten, aside from his grandma and his music. His guitar had kept him company on countless afternoons. Sometimes he'd play in his room, and other times, he'd sit on the beach when no one was around and play and sing as the waves and the seagulls joined in. He had gotten pretty good at both, too. Playing and singing, that is. Not sitting on the beach. Well, he was fine at that, too, but that was a lame talent. And now, he didn't know when he'd ever get to do those things again. He supposed he could still sing, but without any feeling, what would be the point? Maybe there wouldn't really be much point in playing his guitar, either, even if he had it. And he had left his stupid pick back in Traverse Town.

"Gosh, kid, I really thought you were gonna follow me. What gives?"

Dyme looked up at the sound of a familiar voice to find Xigbar standing there in the rain with his hood up. He came under the overhang, rain dripping from his coat, and offered a gloved hand. The teen stared at it for a moment, unsure of what was meant by the gesture, before taking it, the leather of the man's glove cold and wet.

Xigbar helped him to his feet. "So…any more objections, or are you ready? The castle may not be warm, but it's dry, at least. And you can get yourself into some better clothes before ya see the Superior."

Dyme sighed, more just an exhalation of air, really, and gave a weak nod.

"Good. Let's get you inside." Another portal opened up beside the man.

"We gotta go through one of those again?"

"Would you rather walk in the rain some more?"

No, he did not. Only after a short bout of hesitation, which quickly ended when he took another glance at the deluge of rain taking place just a few feet away, he went through the portal, eyes closed, not just because he didn't want to see that dark place again, but because he had no idea what was waiting for him on the other end.

This chapter originally had Dyme waking up in the World That Never Was, but then I found out that wasn't accurate, so I rewrote the whole thing, and I think this version is much better anyway. More chapters to come. And in the meantime, please review.