Friday November 4, 2011
Friday's child is loving and giving…
The day Roxas died his parents took a last minute red-eye flight from California back to the East Coast.
They'd been vacationing in San Diego, taking a weekend off to stay at one of their many properties throughout the country. While they were enjoying tropical West Coast weather, Roxas was trembling uncontrollably, held in terror-stricken arms, bleeding out on Axel's bathroom floor.
Axel rarely bothered to replay memories of that night in his mind. It was always too painful, each detail so utterly drawn out it was nearly unbearable, yet always over too quickly where it really mattered.
His dreams were another matter entirely. Though becoming more and more infrequent as time passed, that night still haunted his unconscious a year after the event.
He'd gone to get pizza. Mushrooms, with double cheese and an extra side of garlic sauce. It had been Roxas' favorite, a treat they sometimes indulged in on weekends while they studied together.
Roxas lived in the dorms by choice, a sophomore still excited by the prospect of making new friends. Maybe he would've tired of dormitory living with time. Maybe he'd have wanted to move off-campus, into the numerous homes for rent around their school, like most of the wealthier kids did after their first couple of years. Or maybe Roxas' parents would have bought him a home of his own to rent out to friends. It wasn't unheard of, and the Williamsons definitely had the money for it. At that moment though, Roxas had seemed content to remain where he was, where Axel had no choice but to live as a condition of his scholarship.
After October, Axel had disappeared from the dorms. He'd needed to once word had gotten out about what had happened. There were too many rumors, too many pitying stares. Reno, the only one of his friends who lived off-campus, had let him take up space in his living room until Axel managed to petition the scholarship committee to release him from his living obligations for Spring semester onward. He'd lost a little financial aid as a result, had needed to pick up a job at Made in Clay Ceramics in Uptown in order to pay off-campus rent. In the end, it had been worth it though. In the beginning, it had made sense to move away from the memories.
If only the memories had been content to remain on campus themselves.
~ o ~ o ~
No matter how hard he tried, Axel found he couldn't remember anything from that evening before his arrival at the hospital with any real clarity. Except Roxas. Except the blood.
Someone must have called an ambulance. Maybe Axel had even done it himself, although he didn't remember having to wipe blood off his phone the day after, even though he'd been covered in it at the time. Apart from his own pleading voice, there'd been an eery silence that permeated his memories whenever he returned to that moment on that evening in late October. Whether it had truly been that silent remained a mystery to Axel. When the paramedics arrived, he vaguely recalled them trying to pry him away from Roxas with considerable difficulty. They wouldn't have done that without speaking, right?
Yet Axel could recall no orders from them, no words at all. He just remembered the feeling of being pulled away from the only person who had ever told him he was loved and had seemed to actually mean it.
Things became clearer at the hospital, which he'd been able to get to thanks to Saix's quick thinking and a kind-hearted freshman who'd been willing to lend his car to them both. To the best of Axel's knowledge, Saix had never brought up the scene he'd witnessed in the hospital waiting room. It was something for which Axel would be forever grateful.
The attending physician wouldn't release any information about Roxas' condition until his parents had arrived several hours later. By then, Roxas was gone. The doctor's words only confirmed what Axel had already suspected but up until that point hadn't truly let himself believe.
Blood. So much blood, and Roxas muttering incoherently, eyes half opened but not truly seeing. Axel's panicked voice had occasionally seemed to attract his attention, but it had been fleeting at best, as though something beyond Axel was holding the blond's attention much more acutely than his boyfriend's choked sobs ever could.
It had been in his eyes from the beginning though, that distant look. Peacefulness soon overtaking.
But still, Axel hadn't wanted to believe it, probably wouldn't have if Mrs. Williamson's shrill voice hadn't pulled him out of a stupor borne of shock and disbelief.
"It was you," she had shrieked.
Surprised, both Axel and Saix had looked up from their seats at the blonde woman whose make-up had been irreparably smeared down her face in erratic streaks.
"I told him not to get involved with your kind of people," she'd continued, her voice nearly unintelligible through her sobs. By her side, Roxas' father held her tightly but said nothing.
"Drugs," she'd cried, burying her face into her husband's shoulder. "You probably got him into drugs and gangs and all sorts of risky behavior, and this is how it ended for—"
"Shut up."
By Axel's side, Saix had stood, fists clenched, voice tight. The fury written plainly across his face only served to accentuate the sharp edges of the scar that criss-crossed his features. Saix knew all about gangs and the consequences of crossing them at an inopportune time, Axel realized. It was also a sore spot for the young man, although his most recent outburst had seemed to surprise him as much as it had the room's other three occupants.
Saix looked down, unsure if he should take his seat again or remain standing. In a show of support, Axel rose to his feet, if a bit unsteadily, although Saix seemed not to initially notice, eyes trained on the ground as he seemed to try to control his next response. "It wasn't anything like that," he said, this time more quietly. "None of us has anything to do with gangs or drugs."
Turning in her husband's arms, Mrs. Williamson fixed an anguished look on both boys across from her. "You're lying," she said, although her voice was anything but certain now. "It had to be something…there had to be a reason for this." The more she spoke, the higher her voice rose with desperation, until Axel had thought she might start yelling again.
It was at that moment that Roxas' father had offered a soft sound of comfort to his wife, trying to quiet her. It was only a moment later that Axel's gaze fell on the man's features. They were so similar to Roxas', from the round curve of his face to the way he pursed his lips when he was upset to…the haunted look in the blue eyes of someone remembering something they'd been trying to repress for years.
Axel froze as he quickly pieced the underlying meaning of that look together in his mind.
He had known. In that moment, Axel realized that Roxas' father must have had an idea of what his own son had gone through, might have even gone through something similar himself. And in that moment, there was no one Axel hated more in the world than his boyfriend's father, a man who had known about his son's suffering and might have been able to change things. Roxas might still be alive.
"Coward!"
The word had been harsh as Axel forced his voice back to life after hours of silence, out of a throat tightened from worry and repressed sobs of his own. He'd advanced on Roxas' father, paying no further attention to his wife. If she was blaming Axel, she probably didn't know. Roxas' father had to though.
He could still be alive. Roxas might've still been alive if not for his own father's silence. They could still be eating pizza and watching TV, falling asleep together on an otherwise uneventful Halloween night. Instead, he was in a hospital, its sterile white-washed walls suffocating, closing in all around him. Taking Roxas further away.
Axel wanted to destroy something. To tear or rip or burn it to ashes. First his dad, then Roxas. Everyone always fucking left him.
Before he could land the first punch, he was being restrained, two pairs of sturdy hands pulling him back, one of them Saix's, the other belonging to one of the attending physicians. He struggled to free himself but the fight was already leaving him as images of the evening flashed through his mind. TV. Pizza. Roxas. Razors, Roxas, blood.
"This is your fault," he spat, ignoring the widening eyes of the woman by Mr. Williamson's side. "You knew. You could've done something."
But then he'd been shuffled out a set of doors, away from his boyfriend's family, dragged toward an empty room where he could calm down. Where there was nothing to do but sit and be forced to process the horrors of the last few hours on his own.
That was the last time Axel saw either of Roxas' parents. He wasn't invited to the funeral.
~ o ~ o ~
When Axel finally opened his eyes the next morning, it was well past 10. For a moment, he simply stared at the clock on his nightstand, eyes unseeing. He'd set his alarm for 9. Unconsciously he must have shut it off over an hour ago, although he couldn't even remember its shrill ring in the recesses of his memory. Now he was going to miss French yet again. Almost certainly.
Strangely enough, the realization struck a chord of indifference within him.
French. Who cared? Roxas hadn't come to visit, or at least hadn't woken him up if he had. Nothing mattered but him. Pas du tout.
He lay back down, curling into himself. That tender spot on his collarbone no longer stung, although his abdomen was still sore. In a way he preferred the ache to the numbness that likely would've otherwise engulfed him. It reminded him of Roxas. It reminded him of life.
His eyes traveled his room searchingly, but nothing seemed out of place. There was no indication anyone had been here other than him. And Zexion from yesterday.
This couldn't be. Why hadn't Roxas visited? Or perhaps he had but Axel had been sleeping too soundly to notice his presence. That had to be it. Already the ache of loneliness was settling back in. All because he'd slept for over 12 hours last night. He couldn't let it happen again.
Pushing himself up into a seated position, Axel mentally took note of the status of his own precarious health. He felt better than he had last night. 14 hours of sleep would do that to you. He still wasn't one hundred percent though, might even still have a minor fever, although it was much improved from the state he'd been in this time yesterday morning.
As he got up and retrieved some clothing, Axel was vaguely aware that he was in serious trouble for having missed French. What had Tifa Moore said? One further missed class and the teacher could drop him?
Well, fuck it. Roxas was more important than French.
It was hard to believe only a little more than a day had passed since Axel had last seen him. For all the longing he was holding onto, it already felt like so much more time had passed than in reality actually had.
It was a dark and dreary November day from the looks of it. No additional light filtered in through the windows in his apartment, making it look like evening already. Axel made his way to the living room, turning on the light near his couch to add some artificial brightness to the room. As he moved, his tired eyes searched each area, hopeful for signs that someone else had been present in the room at some point over the past twenty-four hours.
Nothing.
His mind was still processing things slowly, not yet completely breaking out of the sluggish hold of sleep from earlier. It didn't make sense to him that Roxas wouldn't have come. Hadn't he promised to? No, actually. Roxas hadn't actually said those words. He'd been very much focused on the immediate except for one small mention at a time that already seemed so far removed.
Soon. He'd said soon on Halloween night. Nothing more specific than that.
It stood to reason that the blond must have had a good justification not to visit last night. With a mild sense of worry as he made his way to the bathroom, Axel wondered if Roxas might be in trouble or need help in some way. Not that he could imagine what kind of trouble someone like Roxas could even get into. Everyone had liked him in life, had sincerely mourned him in death.
Nothing was out of sorts in the bathroom. Except his hair, Axel noted, bleary eyes taking in erratically splayed tufts from having slept on it wet last night. Using one hand to turn on the sink faucet, another to pull a small swiss army set out of his pocket, Axel flipped one of the knives in and out rhythmically as he waited for the water to warm.
Roxas had used something similar on his arms long ago, Axel had assumed. Very few of the cuts marking the lightly bronzed skin of his arms had been fresh. Instead, the raised white lines had criss-crossed up most of his boyfriend's right arm, only a few marking his left. In some of his nightmares, Axel imagined them red and weeping, all the way up Roxas' arms, bleeding out even faster than they had done the night he had died. Red, once his favorite color, had now turned into something to fear. To loathe.
Axel's thoughts were wandering places he didn't want them to go. Not when he was feeling like this. Not ever really. Perhaps because of the dreams he'd had last night they were more predisposed to linger on unpleasant images, but that didn't mean he would let himself get caught up in them. He had to find out what had happened to Roxas. Or at least prepare himself for the blond's next visit.
Flipping the knife definitively closed and sliding it back into his pocket, Axel assessed the damage and inwardly groaned. He hadn't been off when he'd noted his hair was an absolute mess. Cupping some water between both hands, Axel splashed his face once, hair twice to wet it down, then reached for a bottle of product underneath the sink.
He was out of practice with spiking his hair, the movements slow at first until he got back into the groove of it. Slowly, laboriously, Axel ran his hand through already naturally thick hair, adding product and sculpting adeptly into multiple spikes.
When he was finished, he surveyed his work, satisfied with the harsh red color, the sharply spiked tufts. Roxas had loved to run hands through his hair, effectively ruining the spiking in the process, but leaving Axel's hair a lot softer for the effort and still styled in places. Roxas' styling.
It looked good now. He felt good. Axel left the bathroom feeling more like himself than he had in ages.
The feeling was short-lived however, for as he made his way back into the living room, toward the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast of whatever he had available that was still edible after three weeks without new groceries, Axel's gaze fell on his old couch. It was there where he'd seen — first really seen — Roxas in this new incarnation. He'd been too hungover the night before then to take the first experience as anything more than a vivid dream.
He remembered the surprise and shock, hunched shoulders. The shriek.
Shifting over to the lamp on one end of the couch, his eyes seemed to make the connection before his mind had fully processed what he was taking in.
The light. He'd been able to turn the light on.
Not broken, bulb blackened from its internal wiring failure. Not flickering weakly as all his other lights had whenever Roxas was nearby.
This light was on, illuminating the room with a strong, steady glow.
Axel blinked, still uncomprehending.
Was he still sleeping? Was he dreaming now?
No dream had ever felt this realistic to him, if so. Axel quickly ruled it out.
He couldn't explain this logically, didn't want to think about the implications even slightly if it meant questioning all those other things he was holding onto so tightly right now, all those other things about the reality of Roxas' continued existence.
Instead, he simply approached the light and, with fingers lightly trembling, turned it off.
Off. Dark. As it should be, since the light hurt Roxas' eyes…
~ o ~ o ~
Axel got the call from work when he was halfway to school. Even having skipped French class, he had somehow remembered his major declaration sheet was due today. Then, it was off to work until close. Then, Roxas hopefully at home.
Except it wasn't, in either case.
Axel had been terrible at responding to phone calls lately, between his cell being generally dead and the ease with which he was able to ignore voicemails. He recognized the number though, not as a friend, but as a co-worker.
A quiet, subdued voice met his ear from the other end of the line, and Axel listened almost without comment as Isa asked to call in a favor, a shift swap at work so he could have Friday off, while Axel took Saturday.
He had no idea what he'd do with the extra time, but Axel figured it'd be fine, didn't really even stop to think about whether he wanted to switch shifts. If it meant he had one less thing to do today before seeing Roxas tonight, fine by him.
As he made his way over to the counseling office, Axel passed the campus green where he'd mistaken a brunet boy with similar features for Roxas yesterday. The realization that it hadn't been his boyfriend stung, and it still ached deeply in his chest to bring up the image of that boy, presumably walking to class with his girlfriend. Even if the two were just friends, it was a step forward from what Axel himself had at the moment.
Roxas had always been so confident in public, able to make friends almost instantly with anyone the pair encountered. While Axel wasn't lacking in friends, he also didn't go out of his way to make them. Zexion had been a strange exception to the rule that the people he hung out with be project kids. Same for Roxas, although that had been more forceful, more a result of the blond's own efforts rather than Axel's willingness to open up.
He remembered the easy way Roxas used to walk with him, the subtle but not quite unnoticeable way Roxas had let his own body brush against Axel's as they moved side by side. They never held hands in public. Even Roxas knew that that was asking for trouble at a conservative school with a large, religious student body. In private, he couldn't seem to get enough of Axel though, making up for lack of contact by touching him as often as possible.
Thinking of that, coupled with the images of Roxas together with him over the past two days, evoked a pleasant heat within Axel even now.
It was in public where Roxas had been most in his element, and his preferred activity to get away from the books had always been playing pool. While Axel's childhood friends had always been uninterested in the student union, opting for hang-outs off-campus, Roxas seemed to think it was a cool place to loosen up. He'd been a freshman though, Axel reasoned, and relatively sheltered as an only child back home. Everything college life had to offer him was a new experience, a freedom from a stifling life in a Connecticut manor. College had been different for Axel too, yes. But it was just another side of the same coin for the red-head. He'd had responsibilities in high school, and he had them now too. Unlike Roxas, Axel wasn't secure enough to be able to afford any mistakes.
Without realizing he was doing it, Axel had veered over to the student union, entering through a side door and making his way to the basement lounge one floor below.
How many times had he come here with Roxas to chalk up and play a game of eight ball? And Roxas had always had plenty of friends to chat with as they played. He'd speak with Axel too, but always in a subtly suggestive tone that would drive Axel half crazy and, on more than one occasion, lose him the game.
"This is so fucking boring for me, Rox," he'd said once as they were heading back to the dorms.
Roxas had merely looked at him, mild surprise coloring his features.
"What, because it's on-campus, or because I keep beating you?" The blond's lips had curved up into a knowing smile, which Axel had struggled to ignore.
"Everything on campus is so prissy," he'd responded, ignoring Roxas' teasing. "And I'm tired as hell of having to keep up this stupid fuckin' facade all the time around you."
At this, Roxas had slowed his pace, eyes darting around them to verify no one was listening in. "I thought you didn't want your friends knowing about…you know."
It was true. Axel hadn't. But it was different to be hiding it from people they didn't know because of misguided religious beliefs instead of hiding it because you just didn't admit to being homosexual in the company Axel kept. That's what he told himself, at any rate, but even then Axel knew the similarities between hypocrisies outweighed the differences at this point.
Instead of voicing any of this though, he just shrugged. "They're not very good friends if they can't handle this," he said, wishing to god he actually believed it entirely himself.
Roxas was watching him very carefully now, Axel knew, but he didn't know what else to say. For awhile, they walked in silence. It was Roxas who spoke first again.
"Well, I'm open to other venue suggestions, you know. And I promise not to be too much of a granga or…whatever you call white people."
Axel had actually snorted at that. "It's gringo," he said, "and it's not exactly a nice thing to say."
Roxas grinned. "Figured as much," he said, before getting back on topic. "So, what do you say? Off-campus then?"
The idea of taking Roxas to any of his old hang-outs was a strange one, particularly when coupled with the image of the two of them openly dating, of the two of them occasionally touching or wrapping their arms casually around the other, like straight couples did everywhere. It wasn't exactly as unpleasant an image as Axel had initially imagined either though.
The next time he opened his mouth to address his boyfriend, it was through the subtle curve of a smirk.
"Sounds like a plan."
With a sharp staccato crack, a pool stick hit one of the balls, and Axel was promptly forced back to the present, gaze falling on two boys at the pool table and a lithe little brunette moving between them. He watched for a moment, long enough to see that one of the boys was obviously trying to impress her, before he didn't want to see any more.
What he did want to do was figure out more about that brown-haired kid from yesterday who looked so much like Roxas. Anything that would keep him distracted until tonight. He could go home, obviously. It would've been next to unbearable though, thinking of all those late night moments with Roxas over the past few days while he remained alone just waiting.
Wandering around campus wasn't doing much better for him though. Maybe a little harmless research about this other guy would do the trick.
He'd need a computer for that, and a bit more skill than he probably had to dig through the school's online files, some of which were probably password protected.
There was someone who could do that easily though, and Axel was pretty sure he knew where to find him.
Without further preamble, Axel began to make his way to the school library.
~ o ~ o ~
Although St. Merritt's main campus library was expansive, covering five spacious stories with floor to ceiling bookshelves, Axel was able to find Zexion in a matter of minutes. Ever predictable, his fellow senior had holed himself up in a remote corner of the fifth floor, near the school's collection of first editions and other valuable literary artifacts. Most had been donated over the years by wealthy alumni, although some had been actual discoveries by archaeology graduate students, brought back on summer excavations.
To Axel, the library was restrictive, the smell of old books a bit nauseating. It seemed to have always had the opposite effect on Zexion though, as Axel recalled him retreating here often on Friday and Saturday evenings when the dorms had gotten too rowdy and loud to properly study, as Zexion was wont to do during every spare moment of his free time.
With earbuds in and blind to the world, Axel took a moment to stand back and simply observe his friend from an unnoticeable distance. Was he just being sensitive, or did Zexion look more dejected than usual? And if so, had Axel been the cause?
Whatever the case, Axel approached Zexion without compunction, laying a hand on his shoulder the moment he was within reach. Zexion was wearing wool, and the fabric felt abrasive against Axel's fingers, somehow appropriate at the same time, given his current mood.
The touch seemed to surprise Zexion; Axel could feel his friend start slightly beneath his fingers. Then he turned, and the appearance of surprise was made complete through what Axel could discern of Zexion's expression when half of his face was hidden beneath thick blue locks of hair.
"A-axel, hi." Zexion was quick to pull the earbuds out in one swift motion. Faintly, Axel thought he could hear some sort of classical concerto out of the small speakers. Perhaps that shouldn't have surprised him, knowing Zexion.
The budding academic straightened in his seat, turning to face Axel as he took a moment to compose himself. "How are you feeling?"
Axel shrugged. "Better after a full night's rest."
This seemed to calm his friend considerably. Although there was still a look of uncertainty in Zexion's eyes, his shoulders relaxed, facial muscles losing the tension that had been visible just moments before.
Not wanting to waste too much time with awkward smalltalk, Axel remained standing but changed the topic abruptly.
"Hey, I was wondering how much effort it would take to search for a student based on a physical description."
Zexion's one visible eyebrow rose. "It probably wouldn't be easy," he replied, "but it can certainly be done. Why?"
Axel found he couldn't look his friend in the eye when he next spoke, instead keeping his gaze trained downward, locked on the slender, nearly elegant line of Zexion's fingers as they strummed a rhythmic pattern on the book over which they rested.
"I saw someone who reminded me of Roxas yesterday," he mumbled, although instinctively he knew there was no one else around to overhear. "I guess I just…wanted to…know who he was."
Zexion's expression softened, although Axel did not look up to see it. "It's not him though," he said, his tone guarded as though fearing Axel might snap at him again despite the truth in his words.
When Axel next looked up, there was obvious pain in his eyes. "I know." He knew. "But I thought it might be a distraction. I got called off work today and…" He paused, unsure how to continue.
And…my boyfriend who everyone thinks is dead but me didn't show last night so I'm lonelier than usual?
Yeah. That'd go over well.
"…I guess I was just hoping to take my mind off of…stuff," he finished a bit lamely.
The silence dragged out between them now, as it appeared Zexion was considering the proposal.
"If you're busy though," Axel cut in at last, "it's not a big—"
"No, no. It's alright," Zexion spoke up and over him, finally. A moment later, he was tucking a book under his arm, drawing his backpack up onto a woolen shoulder. "I can try to help. I don't mind."
With a quiet sigh of relief, Axel followed Zexion wordlessly out of the stacks and down to the library's basement computer lab. On a Friday afternoon, it was nearly empty, with just a lab attendant and another student taking up one corner of the room.
The attendant looked up, eyes alight with recognition as he waved in the pair's direction. Zexion returned the gesture, as well as a slight nod, before beckoning Axel over to the other side of the room, to a computer that was facing the opposite direction as the other students in the room.
Zexion took a seat, and Axel followed suit next to him, watching his friend boot up the computer in their stall.
When Zexion next spoke, his voice was hushed, likely in consideration of their current surroundings and the need for privacy, both.
"Who do you want to look up?"
Axel cleared his throat, feeling a little self-conscious. "I don't actually know his name."
Frowning just slightly, Zexion's gaze returned to the computer screen as it lit up before them. "That will make things a bit trickier," he said.
Axel figured as much. "He seemed to be coming from the freshman quad, if that helps," he offered. "I thought he might live in one of the dorms."
"Mm" was his only reply. Already Zexion was pulling up the university's website, clicking through to the four dormitories in question. Before Axel could even stop to process it, Zexion seemed to have two dozen different tabs open in one browser window, half of which seemed to be straight-up code, black text on a stark white background.
"What's this, Zex," Axel asked, his voice a whisper.
The blue haired student didn't so much as blink in response.
"Zexion," Axel tried again a little louder. This time, he was rewarded with a glance, although his friend's gaze seemed distant, preoccupied.
"What are you doing, exactly," he asked again.
"Oh." Apparently surprised that Axel didn't know, Zexion licked his lips a little, eyes returning to the PC monitor. "I'm just pulling up a list of students from each dormitory and matching them with the names they listed on their student IDs, which, not coincidentally, also in most cases have recent photos attached."
"Ah." Axel nodded, allowing his gaze to flicker over the browser window Zexion currently had up. He couldn't read any of it. "That's really cool, actually."
Again, no response. While Axel didn't want to distract Zexion from doing…whatever it was he was doing, the silence also felt awkward to him and he found himself trying to break it once more.
"So…they just have this stuff available to the public?"
At this, Zexion turned, regarding the red-head with a wry expression. "Not exactly, no." Then, eyes back to the computer, his next words were said almost as an afterthought. "Personal information like this is confidential, of course."
Yet there it was, scrolling across the screen as Zexion contributed more and more code all his own. Unable to help himself, Axel felt a grin beginning to form as he leaned in closer, chin hovering just above his friend's shoulder.
"So what you're saying is that you're hacking into private school files, all for little old me?"
Zexion flushed visibly at that. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Axel even thought he heard a tight swallow.
Clearing his throat a little, visibly uncomfortable, Zexion spoke his next words in a mumble. "Well…yes."
There was so much empathy in his expression, Axel had to turn away. It didn't dissolve the painful feeling that was beginning to well up in his chest though.
He hadn't exactly been grateful for Zexion's presence yesterday morning, hadn't felt he needed help in any way at the time. Now Axel was beginning to feel a little guilty for his terse responses to a friend's attempt at helping. Zexion hadn't deserved that. Thoughts of Roxas had just been so all-encompassing that Axel hadn't wanted to focus on anything else. It wasn't just Zexion who'd been excluded, but everyone and everything that wasn't Roxas.
Now Zexion was helping him again, without complaint, even though Axel knew he probably didn't deserve it. He wondered if he should say something, or maybe apologize for his asshole attitude yesterday.
Before he could say anything though, a window popped up onto the screen, catching his attention. Within it, picture upon little square picture of freshman boarders met Axel's gaze.
By his side, Zexion's mouth curved up into a satisfied smile. "Here we go," he said, a hint of pride in his tone.
Then, he began a slow scroll. "This is Lowell Hall," he said, by way of explanation. "Stop me if you think you see him."
Lowell's images came and went with no one Axel recognized. The same happened as Zexion scrolled through Chapman. It was the third dorm out of four where Axel found who he was looking for. Two thirds of the way down the page of images of students in Skye Hall, Axel stopped Zexion with a light squeeze on his shoulder.
"There," he said. His voice was hesitant, almost wondering as he took in the small picture of a smiling brunet with deep blue eyes.
For a moment, silence passed between the two young men as they both stared at the picture. It was Zexion who spoke up first.
"He really does look like Roxas," he said in a hushed tone.
Axel said nothing, eyes fixed on the image, then the name, and then back to the image. It definitely wasn't Roxas. His name wasn't even a close approximation. Looks were another matter entirely though.
"Does it…is there any more info on the guy," Axel found himself asking, his voice rising a little unexpectedly.
Zexion stole a glance at the red-head out of the corner of his eye. "Nothing more in this data set, except his student ID number, address, and birthdate." As Axel's hopeful expression faded, Zexion was quick to speak back up and reassure. "But that's more than enough to work with."
Again, a flurry of typing on Zexion's part, and a blank look from Axel as his friend copied info from the code at breakneck speed, then input it into Google, and pulled up page after page on the kid.
The boy's name was Sora, the son of an American corporate lawyer, a socialite Japanese mother.
Not Roxas. Not even close. Just another wealthy freshman at the same school. Same features, same expressions. Different boy, different connections.
In the end, Axel had gotten the information he'd wanted, but he still felt sickeningly empty somewhere within that could not be waylaid by minor distractions, someplace that festered with a wound too deep to ever really heal.
"Is there anything else you want to search for?" Zexion's voice effectively broke Axel out of his self-pitying thoughts, reminding him again that he'd been a completely shitty friend of late to just about everyone who mattered and was still alive.
He pushed back his chair a little, dragging his eyes from the PC screen. "No. I think I'm good now."
Nodding, Zexion turned back to the screen and began deleting code, clearing the browser history, and whatever the hell else computer geniuses did to cover their tracks. Axel watched in silence for a moment, before coming to a decision in his mind.
Placing a light hand on Zexion's arm to catch his attention, he tried to keep his voice nonchalant, unconcerned.
"Thanks. For doing this, I mean."
One visible eye looked back at him, as Zexion seemed to shrink into himself even further, almost shyly looking out at him from beneath his own cover of hair. "You're welcome. It really wasn't a big deal."
But it was, and Axel knew it. Out of all of his friends, Zexion was the only one who'd never questioned his grieving process, who had just stood by him and understood that sometimes time didn't heal the way everyone said it should. In a way, it was remarkable to Axel. He realized he'd never even begin to find a way to thank his friend.
But he certainly could try.
"There's going to be a party tomorrow night," Axel said, fixing his eyes on Zexion.
For his part, Zexion remained silent, simply waiting for Axel to continue.
"Demyx mentioned it to me. It's up at the Violet Hour and one of my friends can get us on the list. That's if you want to go with me, I mean."
A flicker of surprise that was quickly concealed was Zexion's only initial response. Then, a tentative verbal reply. "You're asking me to go with you to a party?"
Axel nodded. "I have to work first, but I'll be done by six. We could meet up around eight and head on over, if that's cool."
This felt awkward. This felt wrong. Zexion wasn't Roxas and Roxas might get upset when he found out that Axel had asked. It wasn't like he'd specifically come out and said it'd be a date though. It's not like Roxas had showed up last night when he'd been expected either, Axel thought defensively. Besides, he could explain his reasoning to Roxas tonight. This was nothing more than a thank you to Zexion for helping him out during a rough time. Nothing wrong with that, was there?
Zexion appeared to be suppressing a smile in a somewhat unsuccessful manner. It was his words that directed Axel's attention back to the present. "That'd be nice, I think. Yes, I'll go."
Axel returned the smile, thoughts still on Roxas. On remembering. "Great," he said, pushing up out of the chair and preparing to take his leave. "I've gotta run now, but I'll see you tomorrow at eight then. My place."
With that, he was gone, leaving Zexion with a surprised but subtly delighted smile that would remain with him for the rest of the day and well into the next. Axel, on the other hand, had one more thing to do before returning home to his apartment, to Roxas.
It didn't happen to be turning in his major declaration form.
~ o ~ o ~
Nothing more occurred on Friday, except that Axel visited a tattoo parlor, and Roxas didn't show up in the evening. Again.
And although both were vastly different, in the end Axel would remember them as being similarly painful, one just physically, while the other was emotional.
Despite the similarities though, only one had the possibility of hurting forever. By this point, Axel was well aware of which one happened to be which.