Silhouette

The Nine Lives of a Shadow

By Perfect Image

Eleven to Twenty

Tick, tick, Boom--



- For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three he stays-

~English Proverb~

::Chapter Three::

Ages Thirteen to Fourteen

Black Ice



Rain was gone for good and Roxas had taken her place, so there would be no more thoughts about her. The chain with the X was more like a choker and on some of his high-necked shirts it ended up looking like part of the cloth, and this somewhat amused Roxas because only Sora would get something that could do this sort of thing – turning from a necklace to a zipper or some other item equally mundane and normal for a boy.

In Roxas's school boys that wore chokers and the like (anything that girls normally wore) were often labeled as queer and gay and off limits, because the world was still prejudiced, would always be. And, when Sora demanded to see Pence and Hayner, Olette and Kairi, and Namine as well, Roxas silently bristled beside Sora because he knew Hayner wasn't the most kind when it came to anything slightly effeminate and he was ready to defend his older brother. But when the group got there, Hayner said nothing about the chain with the ridiculous crown hanging off the end of it because Sora was Sora and could not be hated for something like a crown necklace that could just as easily have been on one of the girls.

Instead, Hayner treated Sora like an old bud and Roxas was included, though he hung back when the group fell in one giant wave on Sora, excluding Namine and himself, because they remembered the others' quick scattering whenever the heart left. Kairi was crying in happiness, and Sora looked like he would start bawling at any second just because this was their first meeting after so long. Roxas shoved down the distrust he felt and swallowed hard to remove the taste of contempt that lay like bile in the back of his mouth and weighed heavily on his tongue in the form of poisonous words meant to wound traitors mortally. But he wouldn't fuck it up when they were whole.

As one, the group moved off to go to the nearest bar that doubled as a club for the younger generation in the off hours when the sun was out and everything that was nasty and dark crept away for fear of being burned. But Roxas, despite being a creature of darkness himself (for he was the moon and the moon commanded the night life to do as it wished), loved the light that was Sora and the other boy was a heater -- not a fire to burn and torch him. So they went there and the beats were right, the crowd was pulsing and the general waves sliding out the darkly-colored glass doors swamped the surrounding area to where the ground danced underneath their feet as they walked.

And they might have all gone in there if Kairi hadn't suddenly asked for lunch, and it was an inquiry that was given special attention to by Sora, and he said that would probably be best. His eyes didn't hide his opinion on his best friend's bony appearance; the thirteen-year-old took charge of the situation in a way that Roxas would never be able to. The others listened with respect because Sora was a leader, and Roxas saw that he was not needed. So, with his current want for Sora fulfilled, Roxas slipped away after catching Sora's hand for one moment as they all began to walk toward a good café nearby and silently directing his gaze toward the club. Because if they didn't know where the other one was then it would all go crashing down – their reconstructed world, that was – and Sora nodded, gave a half-smile, and teasingly said that if Roxas wasn't back by the time they were done eating (which, with Hayner, Sora, and Pence eating, would take a while) Sora would come fetch the blonde himself and then Roxy would be forced to be dragged around like a dog, but don't worry "you'd get treats".

Roxas smiled back, the grin a wolf gave its prey with all teeth exposed in a way that was more menacing than friendly, but Sora was older and wiser. So the brunet simply wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste before hurrying after the others. And it was only then that Roxas noticed Namine standing like a fateful Brach at his side. She was a white apparition while he was a black ghost, his clothes meant to soak up the sun's rays because he was becoming colder and even the warmth that was Sora did not have the same effect that it once did – and this disturbed Roxas so much because when Sora was nearby before, he had been warm and safe, bundled in a blanket made by the brunet's gaze. And now, the flames were embers, but they still worked their charms – just not to the extent they had before. And a breeze rustled by and Roxas smelled the sulfur and charcoal that was Sora's fire burning at full capacity – so why was the fire nothing more than little sparks now when facing his icy self?

But, Roxas didn't want to think about such unpleasant things; he simply wanted to have peace of a kind he never had before. So, with a small nod at Namine (because she would accompany him everywhere today what with the others' hold over Sora), Roxas swept through the shadowed doors and was inside a long black hallway with small, fluorescent lights underneath lighting his path. Namine followed close behind and her white dress swirled about her with the light reflecting off of her to where she was dressed up in every color imaginable. Their skin looked sick and pale – bathed in acidic green from those gelatin glow worms that wriggled and squirmed inside the ceiling, designed to thrill and fascinate all visitors.

During the day the club's skylight was covered in multiple shades of violet to where the floor beneath was covered in a mystical sheen of Sun's mist. The bar glowed neon yellow, brighter than a highlighter and so real that one became thirsty just looking at it. However, both the stools and the counter itself were topped by sculpted onyx (though the seats were also implanted with cushions to make them more comfortable). The DJ's stand was surrounded by older, obsolete CDs for the classics of Rock n' Roll, Country, and Instrumental while on the main table sat the drive holder for everything that was Techno and Metal and Syncros (a completely new set of beats that combined lyrics warped tenfold and remixed to where a robot would have been better suited for singing and sounds only a computer could make scratched and mutilated until it created the perfect sound that was sick and addictive and a drug in and of itself). The actual druggies of all things Syncro were demanding track after track of the manipulative and hyper-space paced rhythms, bodies coiling like the beats they were so captivated by as they rejected the current layout that was electronic and raving and bouncing. Not that the old-fashioned DJ cared – he would have played U2, Limp Bizkit, Flow, and other oldies if he could get away with it. Actually, he was being adventurous simply by playing an old band called Celldweller that had songs most would either call Industrial or Techno, one or the other.

They weren't here to dance but rather to escape for peace, even if it wasn't necessarily quiet. The walls were damp and cool and the wallflowers were so spread out that they might have been shadowed statues with their pinched and make-up caked faces as they waited to bloom into roses or wither and die unnoticed. And Roxas took his place among them while Namine sat on a plain chair that creaked as she shifted with her pencil in one hand while her sketchbook waited patiently on her lap because she could hide things with no one ever noticing.

Then there was no sound for Roxas except for the scritch-scratch of art being created, and the room hummed and rolled and shifted with the beats until the lines being drawn doubled as the pulsing air. Such gentle sounds could not be held by their selves for so long though, and they were often joined by the harsh croaks of the human language sooner or later. And when someone did speak, it was with the dry throat of one who rarely conversed at all, hoarse as if the owner smoked harshly but Roxas had smelled nothing.

"It's wrong for people to be noticed when they're trying not to be. Crawl back into your cave, little one, until you're done growing." Roxas's eyes slid open (for he had closed them when Namine started drawing since she didn't like being stared at while she worked) and when he inhaled the smell of cough syrup nearly made him gag. Then there was a death rattle beside him to the right and he whipped his head around to find – nothing.

"Not yet, little one; I told you." Roxas returned his gaze back to the middle of the room and there she stood, obvious and apparent even among the constantly shifting crowd. And even though she hissed when she spoke, he could still hear her as if she was right there. He blinked because his eyes were burning from staring and she was only a few feet away from him.

She was Death incarnated with skin that seemed to be made of paper and eyes made of marble. Her hair was coarse and stiff and black as night while her lips were bloody except that there was no blood. She was a porcelain doll come to life, and he knew it for he saw the faint indention that curved around her neck and her visible arms. While the rest of her was cloaked in red and black and leather, Roxas bet that the same could be found on her midsection and legs – for those were where the pieces fit together and he saw, barely visible, the small hinge that was her jaw as her mouth moved, stiff and unnatural.

The doll proffered a hand, and Roxas saw the faint chipping from where it had suffered damage and he saw where one of the finger pieces had been disconnected forcefully to where there was nothing but a stump and hollow where the parts had connected. "Your fault. I followed the wrong twin, and my master was not happy."

She was suddenly in his face, and her mouth opened fully and he saw the snake teeth and he knew she would swallow him whole and no one would notice except – Namine was standing beside the living china and she was liquid grace as one long, smooth finger traced along the line that circled the woman's neck. Then the life faded from the doll's eyes and she collapsed just as Namine swooned and returned to normal, for those hadn't been her eyes before simply because those eyes had been the same poison green that the bubbles in the ceiling had been. They had to leave – chaos had erupted because there were more dolls. Roxas could see them now.

-----

They had left because Roxas wasn't in any harm, but the rest of the people were. He had dragged Namine out of there and had seen on the news later how the club had been destroyed and burned with some bodies thrown clear while others were either ash or strangely melted. Because the dolls had only been there to stop the people from escaping and spreading the news, Roxas knew that. And he sat on the couch curled up beside his brother, no longer interested in the carnage but rather in the grayness reflected in the depths of his brother's eyes.

"Hey, Roxy?" Sora said when the special report was off and there was only a boring commercial about bread on. "What happened in there?" And Roxas averted his eyes abruptly because Sora was regarding him with all the graveness that he received from Cloud and he certainly didn't expect it from Sora. So, to both patronize and reassure his brunet twin, Roxas laid his head on Sora's shoulder and scrunched up tighter against him.

"First off, stop looking like Cloud because that's not a good look for you," and he waited while Sora relaxed and gave a soft laugh then spoke again. "Second, Namine and I went dancing, I met a creepy lady that smelled like medicine, and Namine nearly passed out from the woman's smell so we left." And Roxas felt guilty for lying and smudging the truth to where it was something completely different but Sora didn't need to worry – that was Roxas's thing and he had never felt in any danger the whole time that had been occurring. In fact, his only concern had been more so for Namine and what the dolls might have done to her because she was benign and where had that idea come from?

He must have frowned because Sora laughed slightly louder and rubbed a thumb against Roxas's forehead, telling him to erase that frown before he got wrinkles, he was too young. Besides, Sora didn't mean to pry, it was just that Roxas was younger and therefore Sora's responsibility and said younger frowned and asked sourly, "Since when?" And Sora smiled and ruffled Roxas's hair until it actually resembled the back of a porcupine. Then Roxas shoved his brother onto the floor below where Sora squalled and complained until Roxas finally smiled and said he was sorry.

"I missed you, Roxy." Sora said, eyes twinkling with something that made a detached part of Roxas snarl in warning but made another, fainter part purr in joy. Yet, he himself, as a whole found nothing that made sense in those eyes that were the deep blue yonder flying high above. Then the world tilted because Sora had hold of his arm and Roxas tumbled onto soft carpet and skin-covered fire. And now it was Roxas's turn to struggle against his elder brother, grappling with him until Sora had him pinned down.

Then the older twin stilled and Roxas tensed up because now that glint in Sora's eyes had matured until it was no longer a tiny acorn but rather a tall oak tree. And the Roxas that wasn't this Roxas but was older and stronger and wiser winced because that position was dangerous and deadly and destructive in the worst of ways. Only this was the Sora that was thirteen and he wouldn't hurt Roxas, but he was watching him closely, searching for something in Roxas's eyes – approval of a sort that Roxas had never granted before and would most likely never grant again. And he seemed to find an answer because he sucked in a breath and –

– Roxas stuttered and swallowed before saying, "I missed you too, So-so." And Sora flinched as if he had been burned by a fire of a different sort, the fire of sins and lust and greed and gluttony for that which was not his to take. Then he smiled shakily in a way that was meant to warn off blows and did not reassure Roxas at all and slid off his younger twin, touching the ground gingerly and moving as if suddenly self-conscious.

Roxas was disturbed mildly to find that he felt heated and flushed in a way that was both uncomfortable and foreign all at once and one of the oldest books still in existence came back to him and it slammed his insides with words like "blasphemy" and "demon" and "sin" in a way that made him avoid eye-contact with Sora. His lips hurt and he bit them in a way that made the brunet that sat a few feet away from him look away shamefully. Yet, innocence had never deserted Roxas so completely that he knew everything at such an uncertain age – he certainly wasn't as worldly as Sora because he hadn't been anywhere and Sora had.

And that revelation was tinged with sorrow and mingled with regret because they were supposed to have faced the world together. Yet now Sora was having an earthquake shake up the very foundations that had made him kind and caring and loving and he couldn't look Roxas in the eye because he didn't know what would happen. And Roxas only understood this later when everything was flipped upside down and the world was screwy and not in a good sense if there was such a thing.

Finally, Sora seemed to gather his courage. He threw Roxas a smile that was bashful and shy and Sora's general sweetness toned down to where he was melted chocolate and not pure sugar sprinkled upon cake mixed with ice cream. And suddenly Roxas was hungry, and he licked his lips with a tongue that was as dry as his mouth had become. "Food," he croaked out, and Sora looked almost surprised by his words before smiling fully like he was a floodlight and getting up to head toward the kitchen.

For some reason, Roxas felt guilty for saying something like that, as if the air had been tight and gasping for a reason. Roxas had felt like he was suffocating and dying and dehydrating all at once, but as soon as Sora left, the heat was no longer oppressive and the air was normal in a way that scared him because it was too normal.

His stomach twisted and turned; Roxas headed after Sora into the kitchen, wondering if ice cream flavored like sea salt would calm him down. He'd never seen the sea, except on television, but it seemed like the right kind for now. After all, Sora's new home was by the sea, soaking in rays of his other self and breathing in the air of life and fun. Maybe, if Roxas imagined hard enough, the ice cream would taste just like Sora's new home.

-----

They were going to turn fourteen and Riku had invited them to visit him. And Sora had spent the day yelling about how happy he was while Roxas smiled tightly and wished he could share Sora's enthusiasm. It was strange – to be called after so long by someone the twins had given up on. Sora wouldn't let the strangeness get to him though, and Roxas was loath to show any discomfort around his brother. Their father said they could go.

Of course he would say that. His little friend who both provided him with Glass and picked up the pieces was angry and no longer selling. So their father had switched to being a pot-head, and it annoyed Roxas so much because now he was slow instead of fast, fast, faster than fast. It was all slow-motion, and Roxas was quick to direct Sora's eyes onto other subjects whenever he became suspicious. Because Sora couldn't be tempted by such stupid drugs even if Roxas had – but that had been Heroin and it had only been once at a party. Needless to say, Roxas didn't go to those parties anymore. His arm had hurt like Hell.

Roxas was packing his bags because Riku would be coming to get them today and it wasn't even snowing in the City yet. Sora had heard nothing from either his mother or his step-father and that didn't worry him at all because Roxas was all the family he needed. But, the boys would be staying with Riku until their father could get his little buddy back into his arms and bed, which meant that children were not invited. Something told Roxas that his father wouldn't send for them too soon, from the way the bitch acted.

And then Sora was rushing into their shared bedroom with eyes sparkling and screaming for Roxas to come on – Riku was here! Some spiteful part of Roxas made him snarl and hiss that Riku could damn well wait aloud. Sora pulled up and the joy left his face to be replaced by an intense look that made Roxas shudder and drag himself closer to Sora. The twins stared at each and Sora opened his mouth to talk but no sound came out. But it was all right, because Roxas was ready to apologize since his brother was too solemn and sober right now – such heat radiating off him that Roxas translated as hatred and anger and loathing.

Then something happened. It had been growing for too long and it was tension left unresolved and untamed. Both had felt the monster creeping up behind them but neither had said anything about it. Because it had been a promise from when they were younger than young – five and utterly innocent with no morals and only instincts. Savagery and passion came naturally, but right and wrong had to be taught. They were kissing, and then they weren't; and, the stress drained out of both of them.

Sora stared at Roxas, panting and shaking with some primal part of him that hadn't shown until then and Roxas thought vaguely – this is the wrong Sora, the dark Sora. And his brunet twin saw that a promise had been fulfilled and calmly left the battlefield that had become their bedroom. "Riku's here." And Sora was gone, leaving Roxas drained.

Later, in the back of a car that wasn't a car and certainly didn't hold Riku, both Sora and Roxas sat and stared out their windows. Riku had sent a friend to get them because he was only fifteen and yet somehow busy. The back of the vehicle was stifling with the meeting of ice and fire. It was wrong and unbalanced in the worst of ways. Two opposite elements meeting together in a clash that should have been a joyful joining had brought about an almost haunted look to Roxas's eyes because his imaginings of kissing Sora hadn't been so icy. And, for once, Sora had been burned – Roxas could smell the smoke that wafted off the boy and showed that something had been put out.

The outside of the City was a giant fence on one side and a sprawling town backed by the ocean and tropical islands on the other. The nicer side that was also Sora's home was on Roxas's side and he smelled fish and coconuts and actual sea salt. Sora shared a weak smile with him because both were still wary but now their pinkies touched ever so carefully. They might be friends by the time it was over, Roxas realized. Then, they were turning toward the dark wall that made the City walls so beautiful and not so ugly.

The path they traveled was patrolled by little spheres of light that seemed vaguely mechanical. It was a defense system called Claymore and, at first, once they passed the dark wall there was sprawling green grass that made Sora get up and look out his window too, neck craning but not yet cramping like Roxas's. Neither had seen so much space before, and dotted along the countryside were large houses that might have been mansions, some surrounded by birds Roxas knew to be chocobos and others by fruits and vegetables with bright foliage that signified poison to those that wished them harm – the produce could be eaten only with careful extraction of some poisons, others were not harmful to humans.

And then their driver sucked in a breath and Roxas tensed because something was wrong. Sora's eyes slid to meet Roxas's and suddenly they were clinging to each other as darkness surrounded them. The sun was gone and the only light came from the headlights and eyes staring into the car. The driver hissed an obscenity and pressed some hidden button beneath the dashboard before something screeched and a reptilian-like quadruped dragged him out through the front of the car. Then the rest of the golden eyes charged forward and the ground beneath the car swarmed with black and gold and red.

Then, Sora was dragging Roxas out of the car with him and they were running, past the barrier of darkness that had surrounded them and into the sunlight with the tiny little black things that could have been plushie toys following after. The houses were too far, but it was going to be fine if they sacrificed something. Roxas met Sora's eyes once more, and he smiled bitterly. The moon would gladly die for the sun, after all. Roxas shoved Sora down the rolling hill and turned to meet the darkness head on.

He heard shouting as the little things surrounded him and he saw a light before those nearest to him forced him deep into the shadows and everything went black. They wouldn't hurt him; that much was clear. Their bodies were like satin and cashmere and he felt so sleepy and warm and heavy. His lashes fluttered, and the moon fell asleep as the sun watched with shock shining in blue eyes that framed fire. Roxas was spirited away; Sora was saved. The balance corrected itself, and it was a new moon that night.

-----

Roxas awoke to find a woman staring at him, a cold kind of warmth swimming in her eyes. He moaned and raised his head, feeling weighted down by something that felt like lead and was entirely too effective at keeping him down and drowsy. The woman, who was beautiful in a cold kind of way despite the warmth she gave off, backed away a few steps and he saw the walls were white even if the bed he lay on was ebony.

"Wake up, sweetie," she cooed. She smiled a plastic kind of smile and backed off even more so to where she stood beside the ivory door that was so slightly ajar. "The little cretins that got you won't be seen again; we punished them." And then she was gone through the door, and Roxas closed his eyes once more.

When he woke up the second time, he felt oddly different. He was in the same white room with a closet and a desk as well as a chair that rolled across the carpeted floor. It didn't bother him that everything except for his bed was varying shades of white. Actually, it didn't even bother him that a lanky red-head was seated in his chair; head tipped forward and resting on his chest as he slept, oblivious to Roxas's awakening. The blonde watched him and felt nothing of it.

The older man woke up sometime sooner or later; Roxas didn't know what time it was nor did he particularly care. When he did, the soft snoring abruptly ceased and acidic green eyes regarded Roxas with something before he was up and scrutinizing Roxas at a closer level. "Wow, the Superior did a number on you. We must be getting better with this sort of stuff." The tall man edged closer, starting to pace around the bed to view Roxas from all sides, the boy returning his gaze frankly.

Finally, the red-head drew back up to his full height and rubbed the back of his neck with what might have been embarrassment. "Sorry 'bout that kid. The name's Axel, A-X-E-L." He grinned and flashed teeth that looked slightly pointed. "Got it memorized?" He waited, as if expecting an answer before sighing and flopping back down in the chair.

"Man, dead as a doornail. Maybe you were a space case to begin with." Axel, with some difficulty Roxas noted, wheeled himself over to where he was maybe two feet away. Then, smiling in a not-quite smile way, he waved his hand in front of Roxas's face. The blonde's eyes followed the motion blankly, but he didn't comment on it.

"Yeesh, you're worse than icky Vexen. I tell ya, pardner, you'd better liven' up or I'm gonna ruffle you up." Axel adopted a western drawl and twisted his hands to where they resembled guns somewhat, "shooting" Roxas before blowing at his index fingers and pretending to set them back into imaginary holsters. And Roxas stared back blankly, eyes dull and dead until some little part of him started begging for release, a smile or something!

The corner of his mouth twitched then twisted into a small smile that could have been a grimace if his mouth had been tugged just slightly tighter. Sora wouldn't have wanted him to behave so unemotionally, and though he didn't feel anything, it was still right to pretend. But Axel seemed almost horrified, peridot eyes widening to where the twin reverse tear drops tattooed beneath stretched. He seemed like he was going to speak again, and Roxas didn't want to deal with the subjects of his feelings, or lack thereof. Not now. "My name is Roxas."

Axel smiled and his jaw unclenched. "Knew that already, Roxy. Been watching our Key of Destiny, I have."

He had been the person who was Namine and not Namine with the flashing green eyes. He had saved Roxas from the doll. And he knew about everything that involved the Shadows, Roxas could tell. "Key of Destiny?" he repeated because he had to act curious. And Axel seemed ecstatic that Roxas was participating in the conversation.

"Exactly, my little blonde friend. However, the Superior will tell you that. And, you need to rest for now. But," and here he looked sheepish, "before you nod off and I abandon my watching duties in favor of heckling Demyx, I have a birthday present for you. Big one-four huh?" And out of one of his large pockets, Axel pulled out a little keychain with what looked like some kind of fruit thing attached to it.

"What is it?" Roxas asked softly, eyeing the little charm flatly.

"That, Roxas, is a promise." Axel smiled and rubbed Roxas's hair, and the blonde had the idea that maybe, he might have known Axel before, long ago. Then the freakishly tall man that Roxas might have known long ago was gone through the door, leaving Roxas to stare at his unexpected present.

Happy Birthday – Nobody.



Perfect Image: Chapter three was done later than expected simply because I wasn't quite sure how to incorporate an idea into it and Sora was acting like a little punk. Like I mentioned before, the next couple of chapters will probably be longer unless I decide to cut a few scenes out. Oh, and the charm will be given more attention in either the next chapter or the one after. I can, however, promise that chapter five will show exactly why this is a tragedy.

And, I'm thinking, that if I have enough material, I might just make a series out of this, working my way across the Kingdom Hearts characters that appeared in this and maybe showing their own roles in this story and how they got to their positions too. Of course, the number of chapters will be based off certain types of concepts (Roxas's was how he reminded me of a bitchy, moody cat that hates people in general – thus the proverb above; but I still love Roxas). I think Sora's might come from his Drive Forms, maybe. If I do a series, that is.

Disclaimer: The characters from Square Enix are not mine and I do not claim them as mine. The story and concept are mine, however, so if someone wishes to write a story (or create an RPG) based upon the setting I've developed, please remember to credit me.