AN: I just want to cry every time I read this myself. And surely shall the next time I'm playing KH2. Rooooxaaaaas!

Disclaimer: I don't own any right to any characters or Kingdom Hearts.

II – The 6th Day

The vision faded as Pence was shaking his shoulder and calling Roxas's name constantly.

"Did you see her?"

"Yeah, watch the window, closely," Roxas pointed towards the decorated window in the second floor. She was there. Only Pence would never know it.

On their way back to the Usual Spot, Roxas felt sick, almost nauseous, and drew a deep breath to set his mind straight. Pence asked if he was alright for it was unlike Roxas to space out like that. Roxas denied it, forced out a small laughter and claimed that he was just a bit tired and that Pence was worrying for nothing. Pence elbowed him into his arm and teased that the Struggle Champion Roxas had gotten scared of a ghost at the scaaaary old mansion. Roxas laughed heartily and retorted with a friendly punch into his belly, claiming that Pence, in return, should keep his mouth shut or he would give him something to be scared about.

He didn't notice it himself however, nor did Pence for that matter, but Roxas had begun to tremble.

"Don't you wanna know the truth – about who you really are?" the girl in white had asked him innocently.

Innocent, my ass, Roxas now thought.

Naminé had said that about a year ago, she had to take apart the memories chained together in this Sora guy's heart, and that now Roxas hold half of what he is. Those words had made zero sense to Roxas. And yet, they had left him feeling like suddenly he didn't know himself at all anymore. The dreams... Just who the hell was this Sora? What did he have to do with Roxas? Why did he know him? For he was sure he knew him – and his friends, Donald and Goofy. It bewildered him. Not that he believed in dream omens or anything like that, but the fact that he had had a dream about Sora almost every single night for the past week... And all these visions lately... It was weird. Hence, he had searched for the answer. There were just too many questions. He needed to know. For it all to make any sense.

He hadn't liked the answer. And yet, although he had refused to believe it, somewhere deep inside, Roxas knew Naminé had told the truth – the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That Roxas himself in fact – and this was what nearly caused him to lose his lunch – was never supposed to exist.

"What? How could you even say such a thing, even if it were true?!" The girl had only chuckled at him.

"I'm sorry. I guess some things really are better left unsaid." She hadn't meant it.

She had also said that Sora needed him. That he needed Roxas in order to get back the way he used to be.

Unbelievable.

It was insane, it had to be. A cruel joke that had gotten gravely out of control. And yet... There were all those incidents that had occurred lately. The hair in the back of Roxas's neck stood up as an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. He remembered the first time he thought he had seen that girl in the white dress. Naminé. The frozen-still images of Pence and Olette sneaked their way into his mind. At the time, it had seemed like a dream, and Roxas had successfully managed to make himself believe it had been one. At the time. Now there had been several times.


Restoration at 97 percent.


A hooded figure in black leather coat entered the dark alley as the portal of darkness closed behind him. It was raining. He started walking in a steadfast way towards the looming castle on top of the highest hill in sight. There was something eerily familiar about the surroundings. The neon lights from not-so-numerous signs gave a lifeless and artificial glow to his coat.

He hadn't noticed he was followed. Suddenly, shadows as tall as himself with enormous lightning-edge ears crawled up from the ground and surrounded him. He wasn't scared, though. In fact, he had expected some opposition, either from them or from these creatures. Calmly he raised his hands slightly and summoned a weapon into both of them. At first, they both looked identical – a key-shaped item with a large golden handle – but in an instant the weapons became alive and took their own preferred forms. The weapon in his left had glowed white, lengthened a little and became an ornamental white blade with beautiful gradients of light blue and yellow. The other, however, turned pitch-black and took an ominous form with firm edges and a strong chain attached to the blade. The demons around him eyed this formidable weapon nervously.

He had slain a few of the enemies easily, but there were lots of them and more appeared. Unnerving. He couldn't handle this many. He grit his teeth and cursed under his breath.

As he looked up, he saw that on top of the skyscraper he was fighting in front of stood a man. A slender, silver-haired man with a coat similar to his own and for some reason a blindfold over his eyes. Roxas snorted in doubt, but decided that he would have to do. He couldn't fight these creatures off all by himself, and the guy seemed strong enough. So he sprung up to the skyscraper and, defying gravity, started running up its facade. The male on the roof looked down at him with a calm expression. When he had almost reached the top, he threw the dark blade from his right hand towards the other man. He jumped down from the roof to catch the blade.

Time seemed to slow down for them as they passed each other, lighted by the enormous neon screen, Roxas still running higher and the other man falling by him. Roxas turned to study him and was somewhat surprised to see the other male doing the same, despite his blindfold. Briefly, Roxas felt like something was trying to break into his mind, try to make him fully expose himself.

The feeling disappeared as fast as the man had passed him, and Roxas decided to ignore it and focus on the matter at hand. With a deep battle cry, he jumped back down to rejoin the battle.

The creatures were no match for the two of them. They finished them off swiftly and effectively, forcing them to vanish into thick blackish blue smoke. After drawing a couple of shaky breaths, as if out of some mutual understanding, they turned against each other.

The guy had some skill, Roxas had to give him that, but he was better. He grounded the silver-hair with a simple-dodge-and-hit combo.

"Why? Why do you have the Keyblade?" Roxas wasn't going to answer.

"Shut up!" he snapped at him and raised his weapon to strike him down.


Roxas woke up a mess. He had a vague memory of his dream but no idea what it had been about. He remembered the skyscraper and himself fighting a guy with silver hair... but whatever for? He had a funny feeling when got up: it was like he'd see the world for the first time. Or was it more like the last time? He didn't feel like himself at all. However, Roxas decided that he had just slept lightly and was probably still a bit tired, but he didn't want to waste time. He didn't want to keep his friends waiting. He had already ruined the beach trip for them by losing the munny pouch, and although they didn't really say it out loud, he knew they were disappointed and probably still blaming Roxas for it. He refused to let them down again. He got dressed and headed straight to their Usual Spot.

All of his friends were there already. They were talking and obviously didn't notice Roxas right away, so he decided to let his presence to be known. "Man, I could not sleep last night," he stated casually. Nothing. No-one asked him why was that or if he was feeling alright; they didn't even bother to turn to look at him. Roxas raised an eyebrow. "Guys?" This was strange. Were they that pissed off that they didn't want to talk to him? He wasn't that late or anything, and he had already apologized for the beach trip. Sheesh! He reached out to grab Hayner's shoulder.

It went straight through.

Roxas gasped audibly and took a scared step back, eyes widening. What the hell?! His hand had just gone through Hayner as if he were an apparition. Hayner apparently hadn't noticed anything for he kept on talking as if nothing had happened. Roxas watched, mortified, how his best friends laughed at Hayner's joke – he always told the best ones. They didn't seem the least bit concerned that Roxas was missing. Didn't they care anymore? thought Roxas.

Or was it that... they couldn't miss him because – to them – he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place? Roxas blinked a couple of times just to think this through again. He had been present for a while, so there were two possible answers to why they were still ignoring him: either they were all dead and Roxas literally saw ghosts, or then... it was the other way around and they didn't know he was there. His friends didn't see him. They couldn't hear nor could they even touch him. Touch, or be touched.

Desperation and shock overwhelmed him when suddenly his friends, Hayner first and then the rest of the gang, spun around and ran for the exit – straight through Roxas. No, he thought. Please don't do this. Don't go. Don't forget about me. Roxas could feel a part of him leaving him along with his friends.

There was nothing he could do. He could try to yell, but he knew it would be a wasted attempt. For his friends – at this he wanted to cry and he cast his eyes to the ground – he didn't exist anymore. Then he noticed the photo of the gang laying on the bench Hayner always liked to sit on. He grabbed it, prepared to witness what he did. He wasn't there. For his friends, he thought bitterly, he had probably never been there. He let out the deepest of all sighs before putting the picture back onto the bench and headed for the doorway. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears, but he blinked them away.

He wanted to go after his friends, even if it were in vain. Where could they have gone? "C'moon, let's go!" Hayner had called out gladly before rushing out of the doorway. Roxas searched them with his eyes from the Underground Passage's entrance and the staircase, but they were nowhere to be seen. I'll check everywhere, he though, I'm not stopping until I'll find them and get some answers.

His trail of thought was interrupted when a white being, similar to those he had fought at the struggling tournament, appeared by the staircase, and another to block his way into the Underground Passage. Lastly appeared Axel. Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, thought Roxas and rolled his eyes.

"Look at what it's come to. I've been given these icky orders to destroy you if you refuse to come back with me," Axel said, aiming for nonchalant but his tone gave away that he was pleading. Roxas really didn't quite feel suicidal enough to fight Axel at the moment, but then again he was certainly not going anywhere with him, so instead he tried to talk his way out of it. What had Naminé said to him again...?

"We're... best friends, right?" Roxas could almost believe that himself. Damn shame, he thought sarcastically, he would have made a great actor.

Axel scratched the back of his head and muttered, "Sure, but I'm not getting turned into a Dusk for..." Then it dawned to him. "Wait a sec! You remember now?!" he demanded eagerly. He seemed sincerely hopeful, and Roxas thought that maybe, for some reason, this person actually had considered him a friend at some point. So he claimed yes.

"Great!" Axel meant it. "But, eh, gotta make sure and all so, uh," he hesitated a little, "what's our boss's name?!" I suppose "I don't give a damn" isn't the correct answer, right? thought Roxas. Not bothering to answer, he simply shrugged.

Axel's face dropped, Roxas noted; funnily, he had really hoped for him to know the answer. His empty stare practically screamed at Roxas: draw your weapon! Roxas complied, for he saw no way to avoid the battle anymore. He bent down to pick up a stick from the ground, praying for a miracle. The stick immediately transformed into the Keyblade. Relieved, Roxas lowered his stance, and mentally prepared himself to struggle until he couldn't struggle anymore and then to be torn apart by burning spikes. He was no match. Axel summoned his weapons as well, but instead of attacking immediately he resulted into playing with them intimidatingly in front of Roxas for a while. This was a deterrent tactic. This was Axel's fun-time.

"You know Roxas... I really didn't want it to end this way," he said dangerously, his now hungry-for-blood eyes never leaving Roxas's. "But you've left me no choice!" Axel drew back his hand to prepare for an attack. Roxas swallowed nothing and braced himself to receive it.

It never came. Suddenly, Axel froze to his place, just like the crowd at the struggling tournament had. Roxas looked around for a second: the creepy dancers had frozen as well. A forceful voice of the masked man roared in Roxas's mind like thunder. "Roxas! To the mansion! The time has come," it ordered him.

Something about the way how the voice drowned all other noises under it gave Roxas the feeling that the mansion would be a one-way trip. But what else could he do? Where else could he go? He had the hunch he would be walking straight into a trap and wouldn't return. Hence, he gave it one last desperate attempt to reach out to his friends. "Hayner! Pence! Olette!" Roxas yelled towards the skies. He was rewarded with silence.