The Anti-Zemyx Day Ten

Title: The Moral of Our Story

Genre: Humour, Friendship

Rating: K+

Summary: Maybe we should get him safety scissors. Y'know, for kids.

A/N: Thank you, Obsidian Rush, for flooding my inbox. Lol. OH! And yeah you got it right. It was Ansem/Xehanort, not Xemnas, WeDidItForTheDead. Sorry! ALSO! Gullwings and Wave Gigs are not real bands or singing groups, at least, not that I know of. They were made up for the purpose of this story collection, with the Gullwings being the trio of girls Yuna, Rikku, and Paine turned into a singing group like AKB48 (gosh I dislike them!), and Wave Gigs being Demyx's limit break turned into a band. Okay? :)

A week had passed since the fire incident, and the holidays were finally over. Reno and Cloud Strife had stayed behind after everyone else (Tifa, Rude, Terra, and Aqua) had left, and offered to help finish fixing up the ruined, burned bedroom, with Reno feeling responsible for his reckless, borderline-pyromania brother, and Cloud having nothing better to do than to go back to the Autoshop.

For the extra help, Zexion was quite thankful.

Everyone had pitched in, helping out, even if it was in the tiniest way (such as Vanitas, who had no interest whatsoever and only crashed when he had to, who carried the roll of wallpaper to Marluxia), and soon the room was almost as good as new.

Reno and Cloud replaced the floor, as it was unsafe to walk on, and added blinds instead of curtains to the window.

Time passed very quickly for the working group, and even Aerith and Leon had stopped by with picnic baskets stuffed with food to feed the hard workers.

It took three days of hard work and using up sick days for college and work (Kairi and Xion were forced to go to high school by Larxene, but Naminé got to stay behind because she was helping Aerith cook and clean), but at last, the room was done, refurbished, renewed, and curtain-less.

Zexion sighed at his desk, once again studying for his university, when suddenly there was a loud clatter from downstairs, sounding very much like furniture crashing together. Slightly alarmed, Zexion turned around in his chair and stared out the open door, but nothing extraordinary happened.

A fly buzzed through the air and landed on the slate-haired youth's nose. Zexion impatiently brushed it off and turned back around again, and continued to do work.

There was another large noise, accompanied this time by the thumping of socked feet running down the stairs.

Zexion had very sensitive senses, and judging by the faint wisp of a scent of the Cinnamon Beach shampoo reaching his nose, it was Demyx who was causing such a racket.

He leaned back and looked outside the door again, and this time, saw the mullet-hawked young man dash past, holding something that looked suspiciously like a pair of scissors.

"Demyx!" he called out, his voice barely laced with concern. "You shouldn't run with sci––"

There was a huge crash and a yelp, compelling Zexion to jump out of his chair and run to the door. Moving swiftly through the narrow hallway, he stopped at the top of the stairs, where he saw Demyx sprawled out on the first floor, grinning weakly and like a fool, with a definite pair of scissors clutched in his right hand.

Zexion sighed.

"I told you..."

Naminé quickly rushed to Demyx's side, and knelt by him.

"Are you alright? You could have critically injured yourself!" Demyx smiled.

"Don't..." he winced slightly, "worry about me, Naminé! I'm..." he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, "fine."

Zexion rolled his eyes and began walking down the stairs with irked, deliberate steps.

"How about we buy you a pair of children's scissors, so that the next time you decide to disregard my advice and crash down the stairs, you don't accidentally impale yourself with stainless steel?"

Naminé, Roxas, Sora, and Xion laughed softly at Zexion's somewhat cruel remark.

Demyx quite childishly stuck his tongue out at him.

"Whatever. It was fun, though," he retorted.

"Maybe for you. Your idea of fun is ludicrous, Demyx. Still, gut yourself if you want." Demyx rolled his eyes as well and struggled to get up as Zexion placed a single foot on the small of his back.

"So nice to know you care about me," he replied. "Get off. You're so heavy."

There was no mistake of a smile in Demyx's voice.

"Yes, Your Highness," said Zexion smoothly, as he removed his foot and strode back upstairs.

Axel walked up and popped open a can of soda.

"You two fight over the silliest things."

Demyx gave the old wooden staircase a wistful smile.

"Yepp. We do."

Moral: You can use an idiot, and you can use a scissors, but you can't let an idiot run with scissors.

A/N: Short, and not my best work. Sorry guys.

Obsidian Rush! Thanks for the reviews, d'you want a story in return? :D

WeDidItForTheDead: No, I don't get tired of it. Each and every review makes me so happy! Thank yo so much!

Everyone else, thanks for reading! Four more days!

Review? Pretty please and thanks!