Disclaimer: Go see chap. 1 for Disclaimer.
Warning: Very little to warn about this chapter. Much angst. Childish name-calling. Suitable for children 9+
Many thanks to Suzaka and Josh (who I think doesn't have a account. shrug) who sat with me and gave me helpful criticism throughout the production of both of the last couple of chapters. As always, this is a continuing work in progress, and I may edit chapters to my liking whenever I feel like it, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Please, though, if you can't criticize constructively, then don't criticize at all. Thanks in advance!
Enjoy.
Axel sat in the rain for a long time, just—thinking. Thinking about what to do, how to go about it, wondering how in the Hell things changed so quickly. He thought about 'feelings' and what they must 'feel' like. He even thought that he might be 'feeling' himself. All kinds of new 'emotions' were swirling inside of him that he couldn't explain. All these things he couldn't understand—he wanted to cry at nothing, or something; he wanted to scream, to kick and punch someone; he wanted to rip his chest apart to search for the heart that wasn't there. Most of all, he wanted this painful emptiness to end, and he knew he could do it just by bringing Roxas back. Without knowing it, Axel had interwoven in his mind the idea of finding his heart with Roxas. He represented the hope that Axel couldn't feel alone, and without him, there was nothing.
Falling to his knees, he stared up into the clouded, dripping sky and felt his eyes become flooded with tears that he couldn't understand, control, or hold back. He conjured a chakram just to throw it across the road at a wall and have it burst into flames. His hair, normally so well-styled and spiked, fell limply on his face and neck, completely soaked, as he pounded his fists into the street cement until his hands bled. And he cried.
--
"Demyx."
The boy sat up quickly from his lounging position on the bed. He held his sitar in his lap, and his calloused fingers were red, a few even bleeding. His normally cool aqua eyes were flushed and swollen, and he constantly brought his hand up to rub them, looking to Axel sadly but with hope. Axel shook his head. The boy's head drooped.
"I have an idea," Axel mumbled, and before the words even left his lips, Demyx was on his feet with eyes wider and brighter than Axel had seen all morning, sitar laying peacefully in Roxas' favorite spot on the bed. There continued a short silence.
"Well?" the blonde asked, after waiting a considerable 15 seconds for Axel to unveil his master plan. Demyx was never really that patient, and this was probably the worst time Axel could have picked to delay revealing his thoughts. Axel, being more of a plotting type, slightly glared under his eyebrows at the ignorance of Demyx's haste and made him wait a few seconds longer out of spite before continuing.
"Well, Roxas hasn't known anything other than the Organization, right?"
"Okay . . . " Demyx said, fidgeting a little with the drawstring on his official Organization jacket.
Axel looked away, seeming to inspect the blank grey-coloured wall to avoid having to look the distraught Demyx in the eye. "So he would be trying to find us, but he's not."
"How do you know?" Demyx questioned, honestly perplexed.
"Xemnas." Axel replied flatly. "He told me to forget Roxas, which means he knows that Roxas isn't coming back."
"Okay," the boy said, his unnaturally strange mullet-mohawk hairstyle shifting as he ran his hand through it nervously, "so what's your idea?"
"You haven't figured it out yet? . . . You're such an idiot sometimes," Axel threw in, with a tinge of hostility, still holding on to the age-old aggression between them. Demyx huffed slightly, but remained quiet out of curiosity. "Who is the one person that could withhold him from us, not only physically, but in all other forms?"
Axel watched Demyx for a while as the blonde's face went from deep thought to understanding. The flamethrower nodded as they both spoke her name.
"Naminé."
--
In another world, all alone, a girl sat on a white chair in an all-white room wearing a clean, white dress, drawing like a madwoman in a blank sketchbook. The floor and walls were littered with quickly and childishly drawn sketches, but for all of their simplicity, they were still easily recognizable almost to the point of photographs. Her deep blue eyes skimmed quickly over her chalk sitting by her side before she picked up another pale-yellow piece and began illustrating again. This was her gift, and no one understood why it had come to be, except that through these etchings she was the most powerful Nobody that ever was. Without moving, she began to speak while she continued flailing her hand about the page rhythmically.
"Hello, Axel. Demyx. It's nice to see you two again."
"Naminé," Demyx began civilly, "It's been a while."
"Let's cut to the chase," Axel interrupted, getting ever-so-slightly impatient with the whole situation, "Roxas is gone. You know where he is, don't you?"
Naminé looked up from her pad, almost-surprised at the ferocious anger and irritation in Axel's words. She looked at them sadly, and then turned to Axel. "You've always been so irritable, Axel."
"Nobodies can't be irritable. We can't feel!" Axel nearly shouted back.
"It's in your element." Naminé said without blinking, and the two boys could see that she was smiling behind the wave of blonde hair that her face was hidden behind. She took the page she was working on out of her book and placed it lightly on her lap, upside-down so that the two could not see the picture on the other side. Placing her sketchpad aside for the moment, she looked up with the same desolate smile as her hair fell to the right side of her pale face, as it always did. "You two know I can't help you," she commented.
"Isn't there anything you can do, Naminé?" Demyx tried, while Axel looked to the side with his arms crossed, pretending to be interested in the pictures around the room and failing at hiding his hurt pride.
Naminé took the picture from her lap into her gentle hands, looking as fragile as ever as she stood up to leave. "They are coming for me next," she stated solemnly and bluntly. "They know they can't force me to do any more while the Organization is watching me, so they are taking me to his world." She looked straight at Axel, who turned his head back from wall-gazing and got lost in her ocean-blue eyes. She held the picture out to him, and he took it respectfully without looking. He understood, and so did Demyx. As she opened the door, she turned one last time to say "I am sorry."
After she was gone, they both looked down at the coloured sketch. It depicted a blonde boy in light clothes with a keyblade, standing in a vast, sandy-looking area, surrounded by short and squat buildings. In the background, there was a giant clock tower and a train plaza on a hill. The two looked at each other, slightly grinning at the triumph.
Vexen, the old fool, was good for something after all. It was Twilight Town.
More notes: I tried to make this as reader-friendly as possible (meaning that even if you haven't played the games, it might still make sense), but it will make a whole lot MORE sense if you have played the games, so sorry if I overplay some parts to the people that already know what I'm talking about.
As stated before, please feel free to give constructive criticism! I really do appreciate it because I know I'm a fledgling writer that has a lot to learn. So don't be shy!
Exes and ohs!