Hello everyone! Welcome to chapter four of the Value of His Heart (Which is a name I absolutely adore and hope you do too). I would just like to take a moment to thank each and every reader, commenter, follower, and liker (that's a word, office word says so!). You enthusiasm and dedication to following the story warms my heart and gives me a stupid grin every time an email is spotted in my fanfictions folder.
Anywho! Enough with the mushy stuff (though I bet you'd love me to gush on and on, because we all love praise!). When we left off, Roxas friggin' kissed Sora! What's up with that? But alas, not all is well in the world, and things may just go bad… to worse.
Sora's eyes shot open as he felt Roxas' virgin lips press on his own for but a brief second. His sea blue eyes fluttered and closed as his hands instinctively grabbed Roxas' slender ones, caressing them lovingly. Though all was ended too soon for Sora, and Roxas leant back, a deer-in-the-lights look on his face.
It was really quite foreign to see on Roxas' face! But Sora felt nothing but a content, warm feeling in his stomach as the blond did not try to free his hands. Roxas opened his mouth, trying to offer his words, though he closed his mouth, and his brow creased.
Sora knew that face. Roxas was thinking of what he was going to say. It would be eloquent, well thought out, and beautiful. He knew it. Roxas' azure gaze flickered back to Sora after leaving his gaze for a moment. "I'm…" Roxas began. Sora leaned in expectantly, his thumbs rubbing the back of the blond's slender hands. "I'm not sure exactly what I just did. Or what it accomplished." Roxas said.
Sora quirked a brow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards at Roxas' confusion. "You have the highest IQ score in probably the whole damned university, and you have no idea why you kissed me?" Sora said between his boisterous laughter, earning a frown from the blond.
"It's not exactly funny, you know." Roxas said sourly, almost pouting, which made Sora adore him all the more. Sora leaned in, placing his forehead on Roxas'. It really was handy they were so similar in terms of height! Sora smiled a genuine, happy, content smile. Sora slowly brought his hands up from Roxas' hands, the blond looking a little nervous and uncomfortable at all the gentle touching Sora was partaking in.
Sora, resting his hands on Roxas' elbows for a moment, merely embraced him. "I'm not making fun of you, Roxas." He spoke quietly, the entire world fading around them as Roxas' diverted gaze redirected on the brunet once more. "I think I'm about as confused as you, Roxas." Sora chuckled a little, still holding the blond close. Though Roxas had long since relaxed as Sora began speaking.
"I'm not sure I understand… But, if you don't understand, then I guess this is normal." Roxas thought to himself, nodding. "Yes, that seems to be reasonable, nor is it needlessly laborious to think about." Sora chuckled at Roxas' overanalyzing of the situation they were in, but just rolled his forehead on Roxas', nodding in agreement.
"Yeah."
Ansem held his forehead in the palms of his head. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. Of the twelve member nations, five were threatening to leave the union over this one, stupid issue. Why did everyone think it was such a big deal for subjects to have human rights?! Ansem couldn't comprehend it. Subjects were humans, albeit grown in a different manner, they were still humans. Something had to be funding this outrage.
It was Xemnas who spoke it so truly to Ansem, years ago, "money is the root of all evil." Ansem smirked to himself, how right his old friend was. But if that was indeed the case, he might just be able to find out the root of this anti-subject movement. Ansem, president of the Pacific Union, lifted his weary head and shook the mouse to his computer. He loaded up the union economic database, the one system in the union's electronic files that would surely aid him in finding the truth.
Ansem sat before his computer screen, eyes speedily scanning page after page for something that seemed to related these five angered nations with some central source. Hours passed, but the aged president did not abate, no, he continued on, before finally, something caught his eye.
"Hearts Corporation gives a six hundred billion dollar gift to each of the five disagreeing representatives in 2010…" Ansem's eyes widened. Hearts Corporation? Why would they do something like that? They made their fortune off of the artificially born human market. They owned a nearly competitor-less monopoly on the business.
Ansem picked up the phone to his right, dialing the office of the American Representative, Xemnas. The phone rang uninterrupted for a long time, Ansem's brow furrowing deeper and deeper with each successive ring. However, as it appeared Xemnas was not there, the phone was picked up, Xemnas' deep, calm voice sounding. "Yes, President? You rarely call with this number."
Ansem let out a breath he did not know he was holding, and spoke calmly. "Xemnas, I think I've figured out what in the hell is going on with the five rebelling representatives. I think they've been bribed." Silence answered Ansem's words, and the old man spoke again. "Xemnas?"
"I… I heard you, Ansem. It's just… It's a big assumption to make. Do you have any idea of who did it?" Xemnas spoke after a long pause.
Ansem frowned, "I believe it was the Hearts Corporation. They gave each representative six hundred billion dollars each three years ago."
Xemnas hmmed on the other side of the call. "This is a lot to take in. I'll have to get back to you on this, my senators want to have an emergency conference on the economic crisis we're going through."
"Right. We'll talk soon. Thank you, Xemnas. You're a true friend, the last one I've got." Ansem spoke with sad mirth in his voice.
Xemnas chuckled a little, "Right, we'll talk soon. Bye." And with that, Xemnas hung up, leaving Ansem to his own worries and thoughts.
The evening air nipped at Roxas' extremities, his face growing cold, though the blond ignored it. Such minor things were hardly of concern. All that mattered right now was simply walking by unnoticed. His shoes crunching on fallen leaves loudly as he walked by. He felt his blond spiked hair bob up and down with each stride he took, the thrum of chanting and shouting becoming ever louder.
The protestors had set up outside his dorm complex today, and as they had done before, were questioning everyone who was passing through. Roxas wasn't ashamed of what he was, being a subject seemed no different than being exceeding tall or short to Roxas. It was arbitrary and studies had shown that there was next to no difference between subjects and regular born people on most every level. All but one aspect.
Acceptance.
Roxas kept his collar flipped up, his waist length double breasted wool coat keeping him warm with autumn's onset. His collar scratched against his jaw, though he ignored it. The smartest thing to do would be to look as little like himself as possible. Few knew he was a subject, but those who did would easily give the information up to save themselves. Except Sora, of course.
Roxas rounded the corner of the block, the brick buildings casting long shadows down the street. A group of circling students was before him in the distance, though they remained ignorant of his presence, continuing to shout their hate-filled slogans. Even at this distance, Roxas could hear them.
"Hey, ho, subjects got to go!" Was the first that assaulted Roxas' ears.
Following it was "life begins at love, not with science!" Roxas rolled his eyes at this one, he found it exceedingly silly and cliché.
After this point, however, he had reached notable distance to the outlying protestors, who quickly rushed in, pins with red circles with lines through them over test-tubes with tiny cartoon babies inside them, some with a broken valentine's heart, with the words "Hearts Corp" written on either side. The first to come to him quickly began their rhetoric.
"Hello, brother!" A tall brunet spoke from his left. Roxas looked to the young man for a moment, though simply stopped in his tracks as they circled him. The tall brunet took this as an advantage to continue, "Are you here to support our protest? You can even sign our demand pledge we'll be sending to the university president to get rid of subjects once and for all!" The brunet pushed a clipboard before Roxas, signatures dotting countless lines, and a thick wad of pages already pulled back. "Can we count on your signature, friend?"
Roxas was silent for a moment, before looking to the brunet, who smiled a fake smile. He could see the malice behind the man's eyes. Like a panther, he was ready to pounce on his prey, if Roxas made the wrong move, or said the wrong thing. Roxas broke eye contact, letting out a breath, he stared forward, and spoke in that flat voice he had perfected. "I'd just like to get my dorm room, thank you."
A few of the protestors before him stepped back and a figure emerged from the crowd before Roxas. His hair was fiery red and spiked upward. He had teardrop tattoos below each eye, and he wore a grey hoodie with black jeans. He slung his arm around the brunet's shoulder. "Don't worry about this one, man. He's just a little down, girlfriend dumped him, is all. No biggie, eh?"
The brunet nodded, "R-right. Sorry to hear about your girlfriend, friend. When you're feeling better, come sign?" Roxas looked over, forcing a smile to his lips, though it felt horridly fake, and he nodded afterward.
"Right, I'll do that, thanks." Roxas said as he was let through. He would never show it, but his heart was pounding in his chest. That tall redhead seemed so very familiar… he couldn't place a name to the face, though. This strangely familiar person followed Roxas into the building as he swiped his keycard, entering the comparative silence of the foyer of his dorm to the clamber and ruckus of the mob outside. He turned, eyeing the redhead skeptically. "Why did you help me?" He asked, brows furrowed as he regarded the tall male.
"Well I'd be a really shitty friend if I let those psychos bag and tag your dumb ass, Roxy!" The person grinned, slinging his arm around Roxas' shoulders, though this required a fair amount of slouching for the redhead.
"… My friend? We have never met before, I think you have me confused with Ventus. Though as to why you would call him Roxy…" Roxas trailed off, contemplating the possible means you would nickname someone named Ventus as Roxy. However, this newcomer broke his concentration.
"You idiot, you don't remember me?! I'm a little offended. It's me, Axel! From Hearts Corp? You're a subject, just like me. But to think they actually let you into the world, man, Mom's got some pull! Hoo boy." The young man named Axel exclaimed, dragging him into the hall so they could speak more privately.
Roxas' mind raced to his past, faces, people, names, characteristics of people, all of it. He could vaguely recall a taller boy calling him Roxy, but was this him? And even if it was, why should he trust him? This Axel person was very well acquainted with the anti-subject movement. Maybe he was trying to sell out his own kind- no, Roxas thought to himself sternly. Subjects are not a different race, or ethnicity. They were exactly the same as everyone else. Either way, Axel might be trying to sell him out for personal gain.
As Roxas' mind whirred contently, Axel continued talking, though Roxas had stopped listening some time ago. The blond absent mindedly continued to reminisce, his memories slowly falling together.
Roxas sat before a glass screen, about as tall and as wide as he was. Shapes of varying colours were appearing before him, in all different places. At first, the game was very simple. About four shapes would show up on the surface, and the purpose was to touch the matching shapes with the same colours as quickly as possible.
It always began simply. There was one pair, a pair of orange squares. Simple enough, Roxas idly tapped them, the screen blinking in acknowledgement of his success. The game continued, the second level bringing ten shapes, this time. Two sets of matching shapes were there this time; green triangles and yellow circles. He tapped them idly, still using one hand.
The screen blinked once more, commencing to the third stage, we he completed easily, and the fourth, and the fifth and so on. At the tenth level Roxas needed to use his other hand, which had simply been resting in his lap before. He fingers flew across the large screen, his mind at ease playing the silly game. The Keepers told him it was good practice, to help him. As if he were defective.
Roxas pursed his lips as he reached level fifteen. The screen was now covered in small shapes of varying colours, but Roxas persevered with ease and continued, his hands flying across the screen. Behind him, he vaguely recognized some sort of ruckus. Though he paid it little heed. Stopping the game only meant he would have to start it up again, until the Keepers were happy with his progress and told him to stop.
They thought he would simply keep on going until he died. Well, that's what the young Roxas thought they thought. It was all rather pointless what they thought of him. They were all dead set on him being a Nobody, that someday he would simply 'cease working,' as one Keeper had put it. He would most assuredly stop if he became too hungry, or he had to use the washroom, or simply found the exercise to be of little value anymore, which would happen from time to time.
And when he stopped playing one game, the Keepers would find a new one, and he'd have to learn how to master that game, and that was frankly, needlessly laborious.
Outside of Roxas' bored mind, he could hear the sound of struggling; one of the other subjects wasn't playing nicely with another subject. Typical, anyone of the less stable subjects, as Roxas saw them, would go insane with the monotony of the Hearts Compound. Everything was white, and stale. Everything was safe and protected. No real chance at personal growth. Their customers wanted blank slates, after all.
However, fate had its ways of intervening with Roxas, or so Mother Namine had explained at one point. Whoever fate was, Roxas had decided quite early on that they were a bit of a narcissistic person. Roxas had reached level twenty, much to his own chagrin; any better and they would find a new game for him, when a shout sounded behind him, and the rush of wind behind him caught his attention.
Roxas threw himself to the side as a chair flew into the glass screen before him, which was blinking red, warning that if he did not finish, he would not pass that level. Though this game had seen its last hurrah, and the chair connected with a clean shattering.
Roxas watched in silent awe, almost as if in slow motion. The chair's leading edge hit the glass screen first, which bowed backward against the chair, before a spiderweb of cracks exploded outward from the source of impact, and finally as the central point gave way and the chair began to slide through the screen, the cracks raced across the screen, before finally the structure of the screen was so totally compromised it fell into itself, shattering with a thundering of glass and electronic debris.
Of course, all of this had happened in mere seconds, but Roxas understood it all well, his sharp eyes catching every detail. He shifted backward, but not far enough, and a large piece of glass debris caught him in the leg, embedding itself in his flesh, as it had easily pierced his beige pants. He grunted with pain, his eyes stinging with pain-wrought tears. Though he repressed them, the Keepers wouldn't see him cry.
A Keeper ran up to him, holding a red headed boy by the arm roughly. "Ah shit, the Nobody got glass in his leg. Come with me, ya' dumbass." The portly man grabbed Roxas by the arm and hauled him to his feet. Roxas silently complied, though putting any weigh on his left leg was painful, likely due to the sizable chunk of glass sticking out of it.
Had anyone even though to remove it and tell him to put pressure on the wound? Of course not, walking with glass in your leg made much more sense. Idiotic Keepers. He idly thought to himself as they walked out the room and into a bland, stale white hallway. They walked silently down the hall, though it was more akin to being dragged by the Keeper.
The Keeper lead Roxas and the redheaded boy into another room, evidently a clinic of sorts. The man grumbled something, and walked out, leaving the two in silence. Roxas took a seat on one of the beds slowly, wincing as he put pressure on his left leg. He looked down to the wound, blood had seeped into his pants and far down his leg. He frowned, and touched the shard of glass, wincing.
He eyed the piece of glass for a long moment, considering the most painless way of removing it, before the other boy spoke up. "I saw you playing that game. Are you a Nobody?" He asked. Roxas looked up, a golden eyebrow raised.
"I don't know. Perhaps I am, I'm not entirely sure what the Keepers classify as a Nobody." Roxas said simply, looking back down to the glass before gripping it by the outermost point and grabbing the side and wrenching it out, gasping in pain. The redhead boy walked up.
"Didn't that hurt?" He asked, his voice exasperated. Roxas shrugged, pressing a hand into the wound to keep pressure on it. "I'm Axel, by the way."
"Roxas." The blond said simply. "And yes, it does hurt."
"You aren't very talkative, are you?" Axel grinned. "But you're kind of a badass. I think I'ma chill with you for a while, before they put be in a windowless room or something."
Roxas didn't quite understand the reference, but he decided that maybe, just maybe, Axel wasn't that bad.
"Yo! Blondy! Wake up." Axel smack Roxas upside the head, causing the blond to leer at him. "Get to your dorm, the psychos are moving their shit-storm inside."
Roxas nodded once, "Right. I'll be going then." He spoke quickly, already walking towards the staircase at the end of the hall.
"Yo, Roxas! Find me when things go down heavy, alright?" Axel called from him. Roxas stopped in the hallway, considering the words. When what got heavy? Did Axel expect him to gain a tremendous amount of weight? Did he plan to gain a lot of weight? It certainly would slow the anti-subject protestors from carrying him off to kill him, or whatever it was that they did.
Roxas, deciding Sora would have the answer, nodded once and continued on his way.
President Ansem paced his office slowly, awaiting the arrival of Xemnas. He had to get the message out, it was imperative that he did!
Before him lay a nondescript, beige file folder sitting on his messy desk. His desk phone continued to ring, though the man ignored it. The fading sun shone in from the windows behind him, casting a calming orange glow over his officer. Ansem turned, looking out the window. He always admired the west coast for its costal views. The waves crashed on the sandy beaches of California, lapping at the quiet shore. A shallow breeze waved through the palm trees, which rustled calmly.
Though for all the beauty the scene offered, Ansem's mind continued to whirr. The Hearts Company, the five heads of the rebelling states, the economy, subjects… His mind was drowning in the ramifications. Though for all his worrying, a knock at the door and the turn of a knob, his fears lessened some. A rather tired looking Xemnas stepped into his office, nodding to the woman who allowed him in, "Thank you." He spoke quietly, before looking to Ansem. "Well, you've flown me from DC to California, I hope this is good old friend, the Senate and Congress are up in arms over the most recent taxation hike the Union fund has proposed." For the economic worries he spoke of, Xemnas still held himself in a calm demeanor.
"I'm sorry, Xemnas, but I needed to talk to you in person, I can trust no one else." Ansem stepped forward, taking a seat at his desk, Xemnas doing the same across from him. The elder president sighed wearily, "the Hearts Corporation is a puppet, nothing more."
Xemnas quirked a brow, "For whom, exactly?"
Ansem shook his head, "I don't know. Someone is pulling the strings though. They've set it up to make it look like the subjects are to blame for the five rebelling representatives sending their countries into bankruptcy. Someone very high up has a deep hatred for subjects, and they're going to turn all of them into a symbol of hatred for the masses. There will be riots against the subjects. People will think that the subjects are here to destroy their way of life. It will be terrible." Ansem took a deep breath afterward, as Xemnas seemed entirely calm.
Xemnas did indeed remain calm. "Ah Ansem. You naïve fool." Xemnas stood once more, shaking his head.
Ansem quirked a brow, "What do you mean?"
Xemnas flourished a hand, motioning to the windows behind Ansem. Ansem turned, seeing that the sun had set on the peaceful scene. The ocean continued to lap at the shore, though the wind had calmed. "The Sun has set on your reign, Ansem. Though I thought it would a long time ago." Xemnas said, the rustling of fabric causing Ansem to turn back.
Xemnas held a gun, pointed casually at Ansem. The old president's eyes widened. "Why, Ansem?"
"Do you not see it yet, you fool? I am the mysterious benefactor you couldn't find. Hiding in plain sight. But, we can't have you mucking up my plans." Xemnas spoke calmly as always, loading the weapon with the pull of his thumb.
Ansem took a step back, "Xemnas, think of what you're doing!" Though Xemnas shook his head slowly, tsking.
"I have, Ansem. I have. Now, say goodnight, for the morning to come is one you will not see." Xemnas said, smirking, his finger pulling back on the trigger.
The gunshot rang out, and Ansem stumbled backward, his hand clutching at his stomach, a growing spot of blood on the white suit he wore. "W-why…?" He rasped, before collapsing backward and into the wall, the coppery smell of blood and gun powder mixing in the room.
"Because, Ansem. The world will be mine." Xemnas said as he walked over to Ansem's desk, and picking up the file so carefully laid there. "But this… shall not leave this room, I am afraid, old friend." He looked down to the still body of Ansem, before procuring a lighter from his pocket, and with the flick of his thumb, the invaluable document was set ablaze, and like so many documents of its kind before, dropped into a garbage bin, ignored to burn itself into oblivion.
Sora paced worriedly from each side of their dorm. He could see the protestors moving inside their dorm. He walked back over to his bed, picking up his phone. No texts, no calls.
"Damnit, Roxas… Where are you…" Sora grumbled, tossing his phone back onto the bed. However, a bleep from his computer distracted him, and he turned to it, swiping his hand across the trackpad. A message from Ventus blinked in his facebook. He opened the chatlog, and read it, a frown growing.
"Dude, this is bad. Seriously, check this out." Below was a link, which Sora hesitantly clicked.
Sora sighed, his heart plummeting as he read the title before him; President Ansem, Killed By Subjects in Office. Sora's stomach churned in his gut, a sickening feeling telling him that things were about to get a whole lot worse.
The sound of the door opening to their dorm didn't register to Sora as he read on in the article.
Representative Xemnas of the United States of America has been declared president of the Pacific Union until the general elections in June. President Ansem is reported to have been murdered in his office by a mad subject, who was quoted saying "things will change, and for the Heart Corporation." The man was disguised as a security guard, and was gunned down upon the murder of President Ansem. A governmental inquiry has been launched into the Hearts Corporation.
Roxas read the article silently over Sora's shoulder, the brunet seated before his desk. Sora looked up, almost jumping at the sudden presence of Roxas, though his heart instantly jumped into his throat at the sight of the blond being unharmed. "Roxas, I…" The words wouldn't come, though. Sora looked to Roxas, he felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Why was he crying? Roxas was the subject, he was the one everyone would hate, would blame for all the problems in the world.
The blonde spared no words, immediately embracing the brunet as he stood. "Sora…" He said, finding himself needing Sora's warmth, his comfort, his unconditional caring now more than ever.
The two stood silently, arms wrapped around each other as the world around them began to go to hell.
And that is chapter four.
Times have gotten quite bad, and the future does not bode well for our adorable Sora and fascinating Roxas. But so many questions remain…
What will Xemnas' rule bring? What are his true goals? What does he have planned for the subjects? How will Roxas and Sora survive a world where subjects are the perceived source for all problems?
Some of these questions may be answered in the next chapter. Stay tuned for Chapter Five, when a new day dawns.
