A/N: Don't ask me about where this came from, because, honestly, I think it only had to do with the fact that I saw how cute Ienzo was in the Birth By Sleep (raw) secret ending, as well as in the Ven Ending of BBS. So yeah, I don't know. XD
Title: Beyond The Mirror There Is A Boy
Rating: K+
Pairings: None really, unless you think this counts as Zexion X Ienzo?
Warnings/Spoilers: Very little, so no worries. :)
Sometimes, he can remember. But he only remembers tiny bits, one at a time. Fragments are all he witnesses, the brief memories so much like chopped up little pieces from another life, glittering for a moment in his mind like shards of twilight crystals in the evening sun.
Zexion knows that he doesn't have a heart, that he is a Nobody, a mere remnant of another, more complete person. He knows this, and yet the knowledge doesn't stop him from getting momentarily befuddled on occasion, thinking for the shortest of seconds that he is – was, he corrects himself later – somebody.
The Shadow-walking Schemer remembers similar to how an epileptic has seizures: violently, painfully, and not without consequence. His mind will throb, his hands will quake as he holds a tome in his slim fingers, and his chest will blare with burning emptiness, the buzzing of his non-heartbeat deafening to his ears.
And then, like lightning across the stormy sky above the Castle, a memory will flash across Zexion's mind.
He remembers peering up into Aeleus's softly smiling face.
He remembers holding onto Ansem's hand while eating bars of Sea-Salt ice cream with the older man, watching Xehanort and Braig walk past them in the hallway.
He remembers scrambling to keep up with Even's long strides as the blond moved around the lab.
He remembers seeing Lea and Isa chatting together, friends, despite Axel's and Saïx's current dislike for one another.
Zexion doesn't always have to remember. Sometimes, he can choose to forget. But forgetting on purpose isn't equivalent to forgetting by accident; forgetting on purpose is no different than being in denial.
Except the Nobody doesn't like to forget, because he is more accustomed to absorbing information instead of losing it. He is still the highly intelligent person he once was, even if he lacks his quiet, sensitive heart. But being intelligent doesn't spare him from the torment of occasional glimpses of his previous existence through the medium of memories drenched with agony.
He can see himself sometimes. His other self, his less distant self, his self who lost his parents and was taken in by the scientist Ansem the Wise. He can sometimes see his other self who would have nightmares at night and was too young to realize the effects to his own causes. That self.
Zexion can see himself in mirrors. Reflections of any kind won't do; only mirrors. There is something about them that haunt him. Because there, in the mirror, he can see his other self, a face that is nothing but a child's face.
A small boy lies beyond the mirror. He has soft, silvery-periwinkle hair that covers one eye, the visible eye being a shade of cobalt that shouldn't be natural because it becomes greyer and darker with age. The skin on the boy's face is a washed-out pale peach, and his eyes are unusually gloomy for one so young.
Now, as a Nobody, Zexion's eyes are empty. But when he sees his younger, more human self in the mirror, his eyes sting and nearly begin to fill. They never do, but he can feel it: ghostly trails of non-tears sliding coolly and languidly down his cheeks.
He wants to embrace the boy in the mirror. The small, brilliant but shy child who always studies the rich text in books. He can sense the boy's underlying fear. He remembers (sometimes all too well) the nightmares about Mommy and Daddy, and the loneliness barely erased from his conscious whenever his companions were near.
Every time Zexion gets close to the glass surface, the urge flares up from the depths of his non-heart to reach through the barrier of the mirror's icy plane and capture that poor little boy. He wants to stroke the boy's hair and repeat the mantra, "It's all right, I'm here, I know your pain, I remember…" as he cradles the boy to his chest.
But he can't do so, not physically. And the Shadow-walking Schemer knows this. He knows that his Somebody is gone, and far out of reach. Not only that, but Zexion knows, too, that his heart has gone along with the boy, leaving him without the capability to show remorse and give comfort. He knows this, but that doesn't stop him from imagining what it would be like to be face-to-face with his Somebody. The sole thing that stops him is the persistent knowledge that these feelings he gets time and time again are nothing but echoes of heartache, the phantom of a heart's emotions and natural human desires.
And so Zexion ignores the urges, avoids mirrors as often as possible, and sticks his nose into books and missions in order to distract himself from this bizarre inner conflict.
Yet Zexion does do one thing: he will slow his movements until his joints freeze, and then with the softest of whispers, he will call out the boy's name on rare occurrences.
"Ienzo."