A/N: Can you tell I'm a band student yet? Anyway, this was typed up while listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. Howard Shore is a brilliant man. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really do love writing this story. It's pretty fun.

Movement Two: Et la Lune Decend Sur le Temple Qui Fut

That day we were passing on the landing between staircases again.

He shoved me against the wall, indigo eyes pleading.

"Tell me how you do it," he whispered.

"W-what?" I stuttered, captivated.

"How do you pretend?' he demanded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Emotions. Do you remember them?"

"I could tell by Zexion's voice he couldn't.

"You… don't?"

"No. Nobodies each carry a unique set of memories. Who or what they are of is also unique to the Nobody," he said, "But you can find a key to your past memories. Some are simply more stubborn than others to unlock, such as emotions."

He was talking so much. Why so suddenly?

"A-a key? Zexion, why are you asking me this?"

"I want to… remember. You are the only one of us who truly does."

"The… only one?" I whispered, my eyes going wide.

Bright allegro Axel, deep powerful chords, maestoso, full of intensity—Roxas, a little mournful, thoughtful, an almost bittersweet melody… couldn't remember?

It was only me who could remember what it was like to feel.

"Yes. Only you." He confirmed my thoughts so easily.

"I-I don't know," I said, staring at him.

I was shocked.

His eyes bored into mine, searching, prying, and all movements other than his eyes scanning mine stopped.

Rest.

Next measure.

I lay on my bed, sitar across my stomach. My fingers darted across the strings in all too familiar motions, a different tone than usual coming from the vibrations. A little slower. Thoughtful even. Something darker.

"What are you moping about, water boy?" Axel said, leaning into my room from the doorway, allegro moderato.

"Huh? Oh I was just working out a song."

"C'mon, Dem, you never play stuff like that. And you've been playing like that for a day now. Are we PMSing?"

"No," I rolled my eyes, "It was Zexion."

"What'd the punk do this-"

"No, no, no. No. It's a Zexion song."

He stared at me, nonplussed.

"Everybody but him has got some kind of melody, and I can't figure his out. Yours is something sort of like—like a march almost. It's got that even sort of temp, but it's all maestoso and intense. And then there's Roxas, who's sort of thoughtful. Nice background harmony, and the melody's got a somewhat bitter, almost sad sound. Determined, and- and then Larxene is sort of playful, but anxious and fast, lots of accent marks, and-"

"Okay, I get the point!" Axel sighed."

"But… I can't figure out his. I can't get the right mysterioso across and it just-"

"You do like him."

"What?" my eyes went wide.

"Ha! Roxas owes me ice cream! Hey, Roxas!" he called as he walked out, trying to find the blonde. Undoubtedly they would argue, and just go get ice cream anyway. Because that was just how they were.

I groaned, laying a hand across my face. Axel had it all wrong, as usual. The chords just didn't match up anymore.

I found him in the library, silent, cold, echoes passing between the high shelves.

"I assume you didn't come for a book," he looked up, eyes challengingly meeting mine.

"Nope," I said, glad my voice didn't waver. He was… intimidating. But I needed to hear the music. I sat down on the other side of the white couch.

"Then why are you here?"

"That's an awfully good question, isn't it?"

He smirked, apparently somewhat amused by my reply, and his eyes left me to return to the page of the book he was reading.

"What sort of music d'you like?" I blurted out. He looked up again.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"I'm fond of Claude Debussy," he said, and went back to reading.

"So, you found that little section in the library at Hollow Bastion too?" Up in the ruins of the old castle, there were books, and I'd found some music hidden off in a corner, in a box.

"Obviously." Again, that smirk.

"You've got good taste," I smiled.

"And I know you're trying to lead up to something else," he said. I scratched the back of my neck.

"Uh- Sort of. I'm trying to figure you out."

"Good luck."

"No, I mean I've got Axel, Roxas, Larxene, Marluxia, Luxord, and everbody else… I've got their songs. But you're the only one whose music I can't… hear."

His eyes narrowed a little, "Oh?"

"Yeah, so… I'm trying to listen."

"That's it…" he muttered to himself.

"What?"

"That's how you remember. Music. It can trigger emotions easily in the brain, and since your very weapon is used for creating music, it would only make sense if that was your connection to your former self and their feelings, their memories… interesting…"

It kind of made sense when I thought about it.

"I guess so," I said. But then-

Piano. Zexion was a piano solo. I'd been listening for the wrong things the whole time. He was unique, one sound, simple, but you could easily create enough layers needed to represent him. There was so much that it sounded complex, but when you actually saw the sheet music you could discern the layers. You could pick apart the intricacies and single out that elusive melody.

I grabbed his arm and started running.

"I've got it! Piano! I was thinking too much, I thought you'd be an orchestration but-but no! I've-" I suddenly stopped talking, excited. I dragged him into my room, completely ignoring his protests. I forced him to sit down beside me on the bench.

The song was in a minor key, grazioso, full of glissandos and slurs, notes leaning into one another with a rhythmic accompaniment by the left hand. Accelerandos combined with decrescendos to create a small amount of tension. A small amount of dissonance, deceptive cadences rounding phrases. And yet the sound was not espressivo- but almost restrained, and barely rising above mezzo-piano.

Zexion simply watched.

Silent.

I played for a while, just letting it all out, letting the song take form. I really don't know how long. Until the ending chords, the finale, the last chords rang out. I turned to Zexion.

He was staring at the ebony and ivory keys.

Almost tentatively, he reached out and ran one thin finger along one.

"Zexion?" I said.

"How can… something so simple say so much?" he whispered to himself.

At that moment I knew I didn't hate him. Anything but hated him.

"Is something… wrong? I didn't mean to-"

"No," he stood, getting up to leave. I stood just as quickly, and put a hand on his arm.

"Tell me the truth."

"Why should I?"

"Well, sometimes-" he cut me off.

"I don't take chances with anything that begins with 'sometimes'." I let him go.

I had never, ever, wanted to hold someone so much in either of my lives.

I stared at the empty doorframe after he left, listening to his footsteps. One, two, three, four. Perfect four-four time. I waited for him to come back and explain.

He didn't.

I barely completed my missions.

Was any of this right?

Did I belong here?

It didn't seem like it.

Yes, Axel and Roxas were my friends, I supposed, but they seemed to be a little more than just friends, and keen on one another. There were others like them in the Castle, but things like finding comfort in one another was never spoken about.

I couldn't sleep, afraid of seeing those eyes.

I played his song constantly, a plea for him to come back.

He didn't.

The glances. Tiny little staccato notes slipped between slurs, definitive moments. Our eyes continually caught one another's, inadvertently. Every time they did, there was an eighth rest. A pause. Only just there to accentuate the established rhythm in the sonata we were carefully picking our way through.

Then there came another day, a day when the measure lines disappeared, and counting didn't seem to matter so much as letting the music flow the way it wanted, without hindrance or restriction.