Ansem returned with him after weeks of absence. The boy was unconscious, covered in blood and gaping wounds that continued to ooze. They lifted the limp bundle from Ansem's arms and rushed to the infirmary. Knowing that their time was running short, the apprentices set to work on him right away.
Ienzo awakened in a dimly lit, foreign room. He groaned when he felt nausea rising in his throat as his face grew increasingly hot. He leaned over the bed just in time and retched onto the floor. Stomach acid dripped from his lips and he spit in disgust. He threw off the pristine linen covers that had been tucked around him and rolled up his sleeves. He felt like he was burning with fever. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the beads of sweat that glistened across his forehead.
He slid out of the bed, landing unsteadily on his feet. He gripped the side of the mattress like a vice as the floor started to sway back and forth. His mind felt fuzzy, and a sharp buzz in his ears was rising. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. The tiled floor felt ice cold against the soles of his feet.
Ienzo stumbled to a mirror that was stretched along the opposite wall, where several other tidy beds stood unoccupied. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass in relief. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, with dark bags hanging underneath them. His skin looked clammy and pale, accentuated more so by his long dark hair. Someone had taken the liberty of changing him out of his old clothing. The clean t-shirt and pants he presently wore felt itchy as the cotton rubbed against his irritated flesh. His arms were covered in puffy red scars that were in the process of healing. Shaking, he palpated his chest. A knot rose in his throat when he felt layers of bandages underneath.
So, he was really attacked.
He stepped back and swallowed the weight that was building inside his chest. All the memories were coming back to him at once. He could still feel the agony of a dozen talon-like claws piercing his flesh, and the weightlessness of darkness. Ienzo took a deep breath, then released it. Although his reflection looked back at him in the glass, he did not feel like himself.
He left the door wide open when he decided to leave the room. There was no sense in attempting to sneak around unnoticed; Ienzo knew that he had been saved from the heartless for a reason. Why else would Ansem seek him out? He shuddered and stopped in the middle of an ornate, magnificent hallway. On one side, the walls were gilded with gold and painted a deep maroon to match an intricately detailed ceiling that stretched up high above Ienzo's head. On the other, the wall was open to the outside world, which was darkened in the dead of night.
Ienzo made his way to one of several pillars that were dispersed among the edge of the open facing façade. He brushed his fingertips against the grainy column and allowed his eyes to close. A cool, refreshing breeze combed through his sweaty hair and caressed his flushed cheeks.
In a sudden flash of remembrance, he saw a crystal-clear vision bubble up in the forefront of his mind. Ienzo could see himself, standing in the exact same spot as he was now, only strikingly different. He was adorned in a black cloak, with his hood pushed back. His face was void of even an ounce of emotion as another breeze whipped at his clothes and teased the arrival of early autumn weather. He peered up at the night sky and watched the stars blink out, unfeeling.
Ienzo's eyes snapped open. He leaned heavily on the pillar as he tried to regain control of his rapid breath.
"Ienzo."
He knew that voice. Oh, it was so familiar that it shook him to his core. A thousand different emotions welled up inside his heart as he twisted around to face his friend, his fellow apprentice. Ienzo was unsurprised that the tall, foreboding man had not changed. Standing before him, with a shock of auburn hair and a steely gaze, was none other than Aeleus. His arms were crossed over his chest. He was wearing his old guard uniform; dark gray with silver buttons across the front and bright white gloves that covered his thick wrists. He seemed to be upset, but Ienzo knew Aeleus well, even after all these years apart. He could see a hint of relief beyond the rough contours of his face.
"We did not expect you to regain consciousness for some time." Aeleus said.
Ienzo, despite the feverish haze that had settled over him, managed a small smile. "I'm full of surprises."
Aeleus simply nodded, frowning when he noticed that Ienzo was leaning against the pillar heavily. "You are not well." He stepped forward and extended his hand, which Ienzo took after a moment's hesitation. He was amazed that Aeleus's skin felt real beneath his palm. It all still seemed to be a fantasy that he had dreamt the last night he fell asleep.
"Aeleus, how is all of this possible?" He asked, with beads of sweat continuing to gather on his forehead. Just when he felt like the floor was tilting again, two hands caught his shoulders and steadied him. Ienzo raised his head, watching Aeleus with glassy eyes.
"I'll go retrieve Ansem. He can explain it all to you properly."
With baby steps, they started back towards the infirmary. Aeleus kept his hands on Ienzo the entire trek back through the hall. Ienzo's mind swam the entire time. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his tongue refused to move. He was sure he was about to black out when they finally reached his bed. He collapsed into the white linens, shaking and out of breath.
"Why," He swallowed, desperate to get the words out. "W-Why am I like this?"
Aeleus flicked on a bed lamp and placed a porcelain bowl on the bedside table. He wrung out a damp washcloth in silence, while Ienzo looked on. Aeleus simply shook his head. "Ansem will be here soon." He raised Ienzo's pillow and gently pushed him back against it. The rag was laid over Ienzo's burning forehead, and the cool relief of the chilled water was bliss. "In the meanwhile, rest."
Ienzo nodded, but he did not close his eyes until Aeleus had left the room.
0-0-0
He awoke to the sound of paper being turned over in a book. Ienzo's eyes snapped open and there, sitting by his bed, was none other than Ansem himself. Ienzo felt foolish for not recognizing him before. His hair was still long, blonde, and his face held those soft wrinkles around his mouth that held a thousand timeless smiles within. He felt overwhelmed with a fond, child-like adoration that he had not experienced since he was a young boy.
The scene played out in front of him like an old recording: clear, perfect, and full of painful memories. He saw himself as a child, eight years-old and fresh out of the orphanage, holding hands with Ansem. They walked through the same grand, long hallways that the castle held today, devouring sea salt ice cream together. His tiny hand was encased in Ansem's, and they walked with leisure. It reminded him of a carefree and happier time, when darkness was only a bad dream. Ienzo's monsters had not existed yet, but they would soon.
"Are you reminiscing the past, Ienzo?"
Ienzo blinked, and the vision was gone. He sat up in the bed and stared at Ansem, who had closed a leather-bound novel that lay on his lap. Ienzo stared at him, trying to sort out the rising feelings that he felt for the man he had once called his father.
"I don't understand who I am." He whispered.
Ansem was quiet for a moment, before he sat forward with interest. "What do you remember?"
Ienzo shook his head in vain. He felt as if his memories were slipping through his fingers. "I remember some things, from our past." He ventured. "I saw Zexion."
"And what can you recall about him?" Ansem's eyes held a glint of enthusiasm. He was attentive, yet unbelievably patient as Ienzo attempted to put together his scattered memories. But, it was ultimately useless. His mind was a great puzzle that was missing over half the pieces.
"We…" Ienzo paused, placing his hand over his breast and taking comfort in the familiar beat underneath. "We did not have hearts." He exhaled it out in one lasting breath, as if the words held a leaden weight tied onto every letter. For some reason, he felt overcome with guilt. "The only thing I can really remember is nothingness." He said, then, wincing, "The feeling of nothing."
Ansem was silent. He seemed to be taking in Ienzo's every word. At last, he sighed and sat back. "Who are you now, Ienzo or Zexion?"
"Ienzo." He said, without question. The answer felt real, but he found himself holding back. What would Ansem had done if he had said the opposite? He pushed back the thought and decided to entertain the idea at a later time. There were more important matters to attend to, as well as a dozen questions that he was aching to ask.
"What's happening to me?"
"Well," Ansem began, seemingly at a loss of where to begin his theory. "Your memories of your present school life were fabricated when you were reborn again. Although, we are not sure how this pseudo cognizance developed. Your state of mind was rewired and tampered with, causing you to acquire a semi-false persona as an average college student."
Ienzo blinked in surprise. "Someone botched my memories?"
Ansem nodded. "And they were quite thorough, too. You had the ideal apartment, a list of classes, and even a new identity to adopt. Someone took great care to hide you from us." He shrugged and tapped the cover of his book with his pointer finger. "Obviously, we found you regardless of their effort, but it took a long time."
Despite Ansem's nonchalance, he looked troubled. Who could have possibly targeted him? The most concerning matter was that Ienzo could not remember anything at all.
He leaned back into the pillows, thinking. Ansem watched him carefully, content to simply observe. Ienzo felt like he had lived three lives, and he had - in a sense. He had been born as a human, turned into a Nobody, and reborn as Ienzo once again. But, he could only recall fragments of his past. All the other bits were missing. He felt lost, and even hopeless.
"Ansem," He finally spoke after an eternity. The cloth on his head felt too warm; the fluorescent light of the lamp too bright. "Why are we here?" He raised his hands, examined his fingers move. "Why am I like this?"
"It is…complicated, this illness that ails you is only natural, and the others went through a similar experience, although not as bad. Your body is catching up to you lightning fast. As a Nobody, you had no need for a heart, but you still retained somewhat of a soul. It is a difficult matter." He trailed off, searching for the right words. Ienzo held on to every syllable with bated breath.
"Imagine your soul divided into a million fragments, glued together by only the threads that bind them to a living being." He pointed at him. "That is your soul as a Nobody. When your heart fell into the darkness, it was quite literally eaten away, until there was nothing left to support a breathing body.
As a Nobody, you may have been 'alive,' but you were only a phantom of your former self. Your form was animate and as real as I am now, and your soul was the only source of light that kept you alive. Otherwise, every Nobody in the Organization would have vanished long ago. That is where heartless, and Nobodies differ. Heartless have neither a heart nor a soul to sustain them, while Nobodies do. Except, of course, for lesser Nobodies, which are neither sentient nor alive.
However, you are different, Ienzo. Unlike the other apprentices, your memories were tampered with by an unknown party. While you all must go through an ill period while your soul mends, yours is doubly worsened by your amnesia."
Ienzo's eyes widened. "The-The others?" He couldn't possibly mean…
Ansem smiled, albeit a bit forced. "Yes, the apprentices are back together. Well, besides Xehanort. His soul is far beyond the reach of the light." He sighed and stood from his chair, carrying his novel under his arm. His eyes would no longer meet Ienzo's wandering gaze. Instead, Ansem seem to be preoccupied with other, more pressuring thoughts. "I've left you with plenty to ponder over for the night. I'm going to send Aeleus to check on you again in the morning."
Ienzo wondered why he would leave so suddenly. He felt like they had only touched the tip of an iceberg of information. Ansem had brushed off his most persistent question: why have the apprentices been suddenly resurrected once again? Under the cool guise that Ansem had managed to uphold the entire conversation was a man on the very edge of hits wits. He had changed as soon as Xehanort's name had left his lips.
"Ansem!" Ienzo cried. He leaned forward, ignoring the black spots that danced across his vision from the abrupt movement. He blinked them back furiously and slid out of the sheets. He concentrated on walking forward as his lightheadedness returned with a vengeance. He stopped feet from Ansem.
Although Ansem was turned away from him, he had paused mid step in the door frame. Ienzo had been afraid to ask something for quite a while, and he thought that he should finally do it before he lost his nerve. If something as simple as a name could affect his demeanor so quickly…
"Do you hate us for our betrayal?" He whispered, eyes cast downward. He was unable to look at the man any longer. Although he had only been a child back then, he had managed to fall into Xehanort's enticing trap as well. He had blindly followed the silver haired man into inescapable darkness. Until his heart was returned to him, along with his broken memories, Ienzo had never really been able to properly consider the weight of his actions when they were Ansem's apprentices. His shoulders were bowed under the weight of his mounting guilt. Ienzo briefly wondered if the weight would only continue to grow as his memories gradually returned.
He could hear the soft footfalls of Ansem's shoes against the carpet as he approached him. Ienzo kept his eyes locked onto his bare feet, trying hard to keep his focus on the curves of his toes.
Then, Ansem's hand was on his shoulder, and his head snapped up at such a gentle gesture. Ansem was inches away from him, his face wrought with so much emotion that Ienzo was taken aback. He had expected him to yell and beat him down with his words; words that he would have rightfully deserved to hear for the first time. However, Ansem's grip only tightened, as if he was afraid that if he let go, Ienzo would disappear.
"Ienzo," He said, voice gruff with an insurmountable amount of grief. He inhaled deeply, gathering his thoughts and emotions into a ball, and released them in one great breath. "You are the least to blame out of all of this."
0-0-0
When he left, Ienzo lay alone in bed and dreamt about when he was a small child, hand-in-hand with Ansem the Wise.
