The door swung open with an unhealthy creak and angle, and this is when I noticed one of the hinges were broken, and my kick cracked the other, and the door fell to the floor. Some covert operation. The noisemaker was clearly not a Heartless. But was turning round to look at me, startled by the sudden light.

It was only here I realized the simple idiocy of my actions. Was there no rational explanation I could have foreseen? Maybe this guy owned the shop? Or was a thief? It didn't even matter. It's not like the Organization would care. But then, I thought with a pang, they never did, did they? Suddenly, I spotted that I was staring at him, and he back.

He had a handsome face, and slightly spiked hair, just recognizable as brown. He was dressed in formal stuff, but they looked almost casual on him, and he couldn't have been older than thirty. He was taller and of a stronger build than I, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, a pinstripe waistcoat, business trousers and attention-gripping glossy black dress shoes that shimmered in the light. I felt a slight thud in my chest somewhere, and was pulled upward in my stature slightly. I didn't even need to look in a mirror to see that a dozy grin had plastered itself across my face, but a mirror on the dressing table confirmed my shrewd suspicions nonetheless.

"Who are you?" He asked, quietly, not faulting in his glare. I responded instantly, and was appalled with myself to realize that I'd told him my name.

"I'm Demyx. And you?"

"My name is Mr Slater. What are you doing here?" I'd caught on, this time, and replied, sharp as a fox.

"I could ask you the same."

"Indeed you could. Touché. But I really wouldn't advise it." His voice was deep and cold, and, although my vague smile was still persisting itself on my mouth, the old peepers were vaguely aware of his gun. It suited him, with its long barrel and slender frame, as shiny as the handsome mans' shoes. Deadly, as well as beautiful…

What was I thinking? The gun was pointed at me, and his eyes were glaring in the same direction, a look of pure miscomprehension of my apparent idiocy visible over his striking features, his head shaking slightly. Getting the hint, I raised my hands slowly into the musty air of the run-down room.

"I'm going to repeat this once: What are you doing here?" The thudding was still in my heart, and at least some of it was fear. As such, I rapidly stuttered out my answer.

"I h-heard a disturbance."

"Why in the Town?" This next question couldn't be answered truthfully without committing 'treason' against the Organization. I stayed quiet, and this only incriminated myself further.

"Tell me." hissed the man. He didn't move himself, or the gun, but any warmth in his voice was now the absolute zero of vocal intonations. I didn't like being spoken to like this. Xigbar had always taught me to keep a stiff upper lip, but all of his kind words and cheeky advice all counted for nothing, now. I could feel a slight tear rolling down my cheek, but I quickly tried to absorb the water back into my skin, lest I showed weakness. But Slater'd already noticed. He'd struck me as the sharp type, and I was expecting Xemnas-like wrath, and closed my eyes for the worst.

It didn't come.

"Fine…" he murmured, his voice warmer again. "You don't have to tell me just yet." I nodded slowly, and watched his nose wrinkle slightly at my loud, snotty sniff. "Hey… those are funny clothes for someone your age, aren't they?"

Rubbing my eyes, I agreed. "Yeah. The boss makes us wear 'em." What had I said? His deep stone grey eyes had widened, and he was nodding with understanding.

"You're with the Organization." It wasn't a mean question, or even a question at all. "What rank?"

I didn't answer.

"Okay… Are you going to run away from me if I put the gun down?" He asked, softly. He was different to anyone else. He knew I was part of the Organization, and that I was a Nobody, and yet he wasn't treating me like the scum humans and my own kin would normally. That's probably the only reason I stayed, and shook my head, dumbly. I couldn't draw my blue eyes from his grey. I couldn't see behind them.

I couldn't tell what they were thinking, and still held his gaze as I moved over to the burgundy bed, and slumped upon it. He chose the still ornamental, despite its age, armchair in front of the dressing table. I wasn't surprised by his choice, and couldn't help but parrot his seating, with one booted foot resting on my thigh, and whilst his unblinking eyes stared at my face, I couldn't draw my own vision from his shiny shoes, still oddly silent. He broke the stillness.

"Why'd you join the Organization?" He asked, settling back in his chair, turning his head to the ceiling. It took me a few moments to separate his delicate words from the winding mulch of my own thoughts, and then to understand them.

"I dunno." I thought back, not realizing that I too was looking at the cobwebbed ceiling, leaning back, resting on my elbows and with my left leg crossed over the right knee, just like my new friend. "Well… when I first emerged as a Nobody, The Superior greeted me. Coldly. He told me I didn't have a Heart, as if. He told me I'd get it back if I joined Organization Eight, and he scared me, so I did, and it became nine. Now, it's ten."

"I know…" murmured Mr Slater, tapping a steady rhythm on his left shin with his fingers. Soon after I noticed, so was I.

"And you?" I asked tentatively. Last time I'd asked, he hadn't exactly been very keen to tell me.

"I'm in between…" He said, slowly. I was excited, because that meant-

"You're a Nobody?"

"No. Not quite. I'm between a Nobody and a person." I was confused, but, together, we continued to tap out the same gentle beat as before.

"That's possible?" I asked, more than curious.

"Evidently." snapped Slater. I couldn't understand why he was annoyed, but I kept schtum, until he'd cooled. It didn't take that long.

"I have to go, Demyx." My heart skipped a beat.

"Why?"

"Busy, busy, and busy." came the haughty reply, as he pulled himself up from the chair. I stood up, too. We were both standing with our hands held behind our backs.

"Will we talk again?" I asked him. I still don't know why.

"We might…" He hinted, winking. I saw where this was going.

"Are we likely to meet tomorrow?"

"That seems likely… I think I could use another sit in that armchair…" He chuckled, and pulled up a shadowy portal, identical to mine. We stepped into our own, and were apart. That feeling in my heart… it was proof I had one, right? But it was gone…