Standard disclaimers apply.

Going Through a Haystack: Chapter 02
by: Ran Shizuka

Demyx had been pulled by the hood of his white jacket back down the same corridors and up the same stairwells he had just careened through, all the way to Vexen's study, which happened to be located two doors past his personal laboratory, all the while trying to walk fast enough so as not to choke to death, and at the same time avoid stepping on the other man's feet from behind.

Vexen moves around the large, mahogany table to sit in the tall, cushioned chair. He doesn't gesture for Demyx to do the same, so he remains standing, shuffling his feet and rubbing his sore neck.

"What were you doing in my private lab?" Vexen leans forward, with his elbows on the polished wood, to rest his chin on interlaced fingers.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just…uh, experimenting. Honest! I wasn't going to steal anything or break anything or– "

"ID," Vexen interrupts curtly. He doesn't sound particularly angry, just bored. That's a good sign right?

"Uh, 0143. Demyx, sir."

"And your friend?" He pulls out a loose sheet of paper from one of the numerous stacks, piled high on his table, and jots down Demyx's student ID. His name is spelled wrong.

"F-friend sir?"

Vexen raises a delicate eyebrow, his pen still poised over the sheet of paper.

"There was no friend. Just me…."

"Do I look stupid to you?"

A part of him wanted to just turn Axel in. The last thing he needed right now is to make Vexen any angrier. Besides, Axel deserves it. This isn't the first time he's been dragged into one of the red-head's madcap mischief, and it isn't the first time he had to suffer the burn of it.

Still, Demyx may be a coward in many ways, but he always stands up for his friends. So with a heavy heart, he turns to look away, unable to come up with a suitable response.

Half lidded eyes narrow dangerously. Vexen gives the younger boy a few more moments to come to his senses, and when Demyx still refused to offer up a name, he puts his pen down and pushes his chair away from the table.

It was all Demyx could do not to back away when Vexen approached him. Vexen's expression was calm, but you can never tell with the man. His features rarely betray much emotion except the occasional frosty glare, or brief flicker at the corner of his mouth.

Demyx was prepared for the worst.

Although being dragged, by the ear this time, down the corridors was not quite the 'worst' he had expected.

They take a turn halfway down the corridor and enter a part of the building Demyx is not familiar with. Doors on their either side grow further apart. The rooms here are much larger that their classrooms. Here is where the students sometimes had their practical classes, basic combat, practical magic and the like. The classes, especially practical magic, are held fairly rarely though. The teachers insist that they must first master theoretical magic before they can properly test out the spells.

Of course, trivial matters like keeping his bearings were not what as going through the mind of our hapless blonde.

What he was thinking went along the lines of: "Ow, ow, ow, ow!"

The corridor they had gone through was sparingly lit. Every once in a while, a large window would allow the moon to shed its light into the lonely passage, but for the most part, it remained dark and rather foreboding. Round several more turns, and up a flight of stairs or two, they finally stop in front of an unassuming door. Light filtered through the space between the wood and the floor and made the tip of their shoes seem to glow a little in the dark.

Vexen finally loosens his grip on Demyx's ear to rap on the door. Four quick knocks. There was no reply, and Vexen tries again, harder this time.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was heard, and Demyx marvels that his ears still function the way it's supposed to even after the abuse. He touches it gingerly, and bites on his lower lip at the stinging sensation it brought on. Moments later, the door opens to reveal the stocky figure of Xaldin.

'Don't any of the teachers sleep?'

Xaldin, unlike Vexen, isn't wearing the customary black robe the teachers often wore. Instead, he was in a pair of loose, navy pants and a white T-shirt.

He doesn't look too happy to see them, but then again, Xaldin rarely looks happy anyway, so this is nothing out of the ordinary.

"This student needs disciplinary actions." Vexen gives Demyx's shoulder a (not too gentle) push.

The light from the room behind him cast dark shadows across his face. It makes his strong features even more prominent. "Not making a grade does not warrant punishment Vexen."

"He was messing around in my lab." There's a hint of irritation in his voice.

Xaldin hums and takes a look at Demyx from the corner of his eyes. He's still facing Vexen.

Satisfied that he has made his point, Vexen turns and walks away, leaving the younger blonde with Xaldin.

Only now does Xaldin turn to face Demyx.

"What were you doing in his laboratory?" though he doesn't sound particularly interested in hearing the answer. He leans against the doorframe, one hand on either side and he rests his forehead on the back of a palm.

"Nothing sir. I…I…don't know. Demyx finished lamely. He doesn't feel compelled to lie. Even if he wanted to, he hasn't even constructed one yet. At the moment he's too tired to bother with it. Tired, hurt and upset. All he wants to do is bury himself between his covers and not see the light of day again for a very, very long time.

Xaldin regards him in silence for a while, before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm in the middle of something now. We will talk about your punishment tomorrow. Meet me after your classes."

With that, the older man turns around and shuts the door in his face.

The initial wave of relief he felt for finally being released from the teachers was soon replaced by slight panic when he realized that he was lost.

He tries wandering around for a while, hoping that his feet will remember something his brain couldn't. That did not work out too well. He did manage to find one of the large windows though and throws it open. He leans out to see if perhaps there's a tree he could climb down from or something. There isn't, but Demyx notices that he isn't too high up. Only the first floor, and there's a bunch of soft looking bushes right underneath him. The fall would hurt, but it wouldn't kill him.

"Better than wandering these halls forever and starving to death," he mutters to himself.

Demyx climbs onto the windowsill, and slowly turns around. Firmly locking his fingers around the edge of the windowsill, he lowers himself down. With the toes of his shoes, he tries feeling around for a loose brick or a crack in the wall, anything that could act as a foothold. Unfortunately, the side of the building was smooth. 'Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all,' he thinks to himself when his arms begin to tire. Too late for regrets though. His grip on the white wood began to slip despite his desperate attempts to hook them back in. The next moment, he's flying through the air, arms flailing like some retarded bird.

Note to self: Bushes aren't as soft as they look. From down here he can see that the first floor window is pretty high up after all. That was…a very stupid thing to do. At least, the only witness to his disastrous escape attempt is the full moon, who's peering at him through the leaves of the bushes he'd landed in. That is, until something very messy, very red and grinning from ear to ear, rudely blocked her view.

"Hey buddy, flying really isn't your area of expertise."

Demyx groans and slaps a hand to his forehead.

The trip back to the dorm was rather blurry. He remembers Axel helping him walk, and he remembers venting out his frustrations. He remembers Axel saying Axel things, and finally, he remembers collapsing into his soft, warm bed. After that, everything went blank as he drifted off to sleep.