Roxas sat on a park bench. Gently, he rubbed his knotted stomach, dreading what was about to happen. But he had to do it. He had to tell the truth, especially after last night.

"Rox?" He looked up to see Axel walking over to him from the Main Street. Axel must have gotten a taxi since Roxas did not see his car in the distance. "I got your note. What's wrong? Why'd you leave before I got up?"

Roxas lifted his cigarette in answer. They both knew that Axel's mother would freak if she even got the slightest whiff of smoke in her want-to-be-palace of a townhouse. That was why Axel chose not to pick up the habit when he did—Axel did not want his mother to get on his case about smoking too, marriage and producing grandchildren was enough of a headache.

"Oh. Can I bum one off you?" Axel said as he sat down next to Roxas, making sure there was a good foot between them.

Raising an eyebrow, Roxas looked at him. "You don't smoke."

"Yeah, well, I have a feeling this is gonna suck."

Roxas handed him a cigarette and his 'flick my bic' lighter without another word, and then watched as Axel took his first drag before he started coughing. Laughing, Roxas patted him on the back.

"Easy there big guy. Kissing death is a learned ability, not a born talent." Roxas smiled. Axel's eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, blushing. "What? What did I—ooh." His own blush warmed his cheeks as Roxas took a long, practiced drag and looked around the park.

They were sitting on one of the few remaining shadowed benches before the hot summer sun clocked noon, a large tree right behind them. Luckily, the nearby lake gave fight to the heat with its cool breeze that carried the voices of the swarming seagulls over to the park. Squirrels and chipmunks ventured into their tree-homes and early-bird elderly couples gave way to business suits on their way to luncheons and anti-morning teenagers as the afternoon approached.

"So…" Axel said before attempting another, shorter, drag of his cigarette. "Perhaps we should talk, about last night, I mean."

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, I do, but not now." Roxas just stared ahead of him. He could feel Axel's emerald eyes on him, but he knew his nerve would fail him if he looked at his best friend.

"What did you need to tell me then?"

Roxas squeezed his eyes closed and mumbled, "I slept with Namine."

There was no response from Axel.

Slowly, Roxas opened one eye and looked around, and then he opened the other before finally looking at Axel. His friend was frozen next to him. His words gradually processing through Axel's mind, like an old game console trying to load the next level of Mortal Kombat. Axel's face slowly went from ghostly white to a shade of red that reminded Roxas of that little button that people always said not to push, but he always did.

Finally, Axel said through his grinding teeth, "What?"

"I'm sorry." Roxas looked down, defeated.

"You too!?" Axel balled his hands into fists, his knuckles whitening.

"I'm sorry, Axel. I never-" Before Roxas could even finish getting the words out he found himself flat on his back, warm blood gushed from his nose and ran stickily down his face. It had a heavy metallic taste as it pooled into his mouth and invaded his throat, choking him as he tried to breathe through the only way now possible. When he opened his eyes the world seemed to spin around him in nauseating circles and everything was slowly darkening from the outside in as if he was looking through a closing tunnel.

"You fucking bastard!" Axel screamed before jumping on top of him and violently ripped the air from his lungs. The blood that was choking him was forced out of his airways, flew upwards and splattered Axel's enraged face in a beautiful array of grotesqueness, like rain falling in tears of crimson devastation.

Roxas raised his hands in a desperate attempt to defend himself from Axel's infuriated attack of fist against tenderized flesh. One of the heavy punches landed in his hand, snapping his wrist backwards into his face. There was a sharp popping sound that was drowned out by Roxas's shriek of stomach turning agony as indescribably intense pain shot up and down his forearm.

"STOP! STOP!" he pleaded as he tried uselessly to keep the gathering tears of pain from coming. "GODDAMN, AXEL, STOP!"

Axel grabbed Roxas's hands and wrenched them from his face, nailing them to the cold, unyielding cement walkway. More pain wracked through Roxas's injured wrist. Axel glared down at Roxas, his once handsome features twisted in horrid anger and pain.

"Why the hell should I!? You fucking slept with my girlfriend! You were supposed to be my friend, you fucking bastard!" Axel lifted his right fist again, readying it for another punch, but stopped when he noticed that Roxas was not doing anything to stop him. Roxas simply laid on the ground beneath him like a doll, staring up at him—a pair of teary, blue eyes surrounded by a bloodied mess. "Can't you at least fight back? You can fuck me over but you can't fucking fight me!?"

"I'm sorry," Roxas whispered through blood soaked lips. He reached up with his non-broken hand and slipped his fingers between Axel's raised fist so that their hands touched palm to palm, uniting the scars they had once given each other in a blood oath—best friend from birth till death do them part. Roxas could feel Axel's body tense as he frowned, and then pulled his hand from Roxas's. He stood and ran towards the busy highway, leaving Roxas to the closing tunnel until pain consumed him and he passed out.