Author's Comments: I'm so sorry it took a while for me to update this story. Thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoy reading this!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the lyrics to Utada Hikaru's song "Sanctuary". I own Imani.

"Imani? Is something wrong?" Namine asks, placing a hand gently on my arm.

Suppressing a sigh, I bury myself deeper into the covers. "I'm fine."

"You sure you don't want to come with us to see the movie? You've been wanting to see it for a while."

The pillow rustles loudly against my ears as I shake my head. "I just want to sleep today. You go on with the others."

She sighs quietly, withdrawing and murmuring a "Hope you feel better soon" before leaving me to drown in my thoughts.

In you and I, there's a new land…

I loll my head towards my bedside table to watch my phone light up and vibrate as Utada Hikaru sings of angels and ethereal places for the sixth time.

What's left of me, what's left of me now?

The ringtone cuts off abruptly and my phone ceases its movement. I sigh, slapping my hand over it and dragging it to eye level so I can check the time.

New voice message, the screen says. One forty-seven.

A grimace twists my lips. I've been in bed that long?

Yes you have, my empty stomach growls angrily.

Despite having no desire to get up, I push myself into a sitting position, my legs tangled in the sheets and my hair a complete mess. I suppose I'll fish out a few bills to pay for a bag of chips and some candy from the vending machine down the hall…

Knock knock.

I nearly moan aloud. Do I have to answer it?

Grabbing my wallet, I drag my feet to the door and crack it open a few inches. Instantly the aroma of spicy curry fills my senses. I let my eyes travel from the white plastic bag full of takeout boxes up the arm that's carrying it and to a pair of slanted jade eyes.

"Riku," I half-state, half-question.

He smirks. "I brought food. Can I come in?"

I nod, stepping aside and opening the door fully. "What's all this about?" I ask, spotting a paper bag with my favorite bakery's logo in his other hand. "I thought you went to the movies with Namine and the rest."

"Five's a crowd," he shrugs and plops onto my bed. "I figured you'd appreciate my company more than those two pairs of lovebirds would."

For the first time today my lips curve into a smile. "I definitely appreciate that you brought me lunch."

"Lunch and dessert," he corrects then adds as an afterthought, "and a listening ear if you want, but no pressure. Just remember that Kairi's gonna force it out of you anyway sooner or later so you might as well practice making your explanation short and sweet."

I laugh, shutting the door with a soft click and taking a seat next to him. "No pressure, huh?"

"Nope." He holds out two styrofoam containers. "No pressure."

"You are not a toy he can play with to cure him of his boredom. If he keeps convincing you otherwise, he's not worth it."

Riku's words ring louder than the blaring bell at our old high school. My fingers itch with the urge to plug up my ears in an effort to muffle the declaration.

If I did that, though, Axel would see me and laugh.

"Can I flambé them?"

"For the last time, no! What is it with you and setting things on fire?"

I thought Riku was doing me a favor when he reached for my cell phone and answered the call from Axel. After that long heart-to-heart we had about Axel's history with Larxene and the possibility that he might be using me, I thought Riku would warn Axel to stay the hell away from me. Especially after he told me I'm not a toy, I thought Riku would interrogate Axel or at least sneak an insult into his eerily calm, two-minute-long phone conversation.

Only older brothers and close girl friends (and maybe even a few close guy friends) do those things. Fairly close (but not Demyx-close) guy friends, however, set up dinner dates.

"Test the waters," he said. "Establish the ground rules for your friendship," he said.

Riku has no chance of reinstating himself as my friend.

"If I hadn't gone to HBU after high school, I think I'd be in jail for arson right now."

"How touching."

"You, now that I think about it, would probably be full of STDs and have rock-hard abs from all your lap-dancing if you didn't—"

"I get it."

He could have at least arranged for the date to be at a casual restaurant. I would've been less adamant about the whole thing if he'd even arranged for us to meet at a bar.

"Damn. The wine's too weak."

"Hey! Don't just add whatever you want to that!"

"But I wanna flambé!"

Instead I'm standing here in Axel's surprisingly tidy apartment kitchen, mashing potatoes while he sautés a few chicken breasts.

Steeling my heart to not jump and do cartwheels, I chance a glance to see how he's doing. Instantaneously my eyes narrow. "Put that down now."

He smirks at me over his shoulder but doesn't place the vodka bottle back onto the counter. "Why? Afraid I might slip some into your drink?"

"That's it." I give the potatoes one final smash before turning to the stovetop and reaching out for the panhandle. "We're switching."

"No, no, no," he shifts to block my path, "I got this."

He and I shuffle left and right as I reach unsuccessfully and he blocks successfully. "You keep turning up the heat when I specifically said to keep it at medium-high!" I argue, managing to at least switch the knob back down.

"Oops," he shrugs, not at all sorry. "Must've accidentally brushed my fingers there. I don't see what the problem is. Won't they cook faster on high heat?"

I shake some stray bangs out of my face. "You won't capture the flavors if you rush things."

He groans long and loud. "I'm starving."

"We just ate all the steamed vegetables I made." The ones we were supposed to wait to eat until after everything finished cooking.

"Exactly. Vegetables." Axel frowns down at me. "I'm not gonna get full off of vegetables."

I sigh, the air emptying my lungs of any urge to storm out in frustration without explaining why and cause more future problems dealing with Axel. "Finish mashing the potatoes, divide them between us evenly, and you can eat your share while I take care of those, then," I instruct, finally grasping the handle and shoving him aside.

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine…heh…"

"Heh"? Is he laughing at me? I shoot him a glare out the corner of my eye.

My glare softens as soon as I catch sight of his smile, laughter spilling out like a flood. "Seems I'm not the only one who's hungry," he snickers.

"What are you talking about?" I ask cautiously.

Suddenly he brushes a slightly rough fingertip across my cheek, holding it up for me to see. "Taste-testing much, Imani?"

The skin he touched feels like it's blazing as I scowl at the potato he swiped off. "Only once or twice," I mutter. "That bit must've splattered on me while I was mashing."

"Not just this bit." Soon my whole cheek feels like it's on fire as his fingers clean up the potato specks off my face. My eyes rove around the kitchen, determined to look at anything but him.

My own fingers clench the panhandle tightly. "Are you done yet?"

"One more spot," he murmurs.

I nearly moan in despair. Why am I always ending up in situations where his face is so close to mine? Why?

His thumb nears my face once more but suddenly he stops. "Tch. Ran out of clean fingers."

"Then use your other hand," I mumble. "Or get a napkin."

He does neither. In slow motion I watch with wide eyes as each finger disappears past his thin lips, emerging potato-less. The last finger he cleans—his thumb—travels straight across my lower lip from corner to corner.

Somehow my eyes grow wider. What the hell?!

"There," he smirks, pulling back and licking his thumb again. "All clean."

My lower lip tingles. It's like Axel's thumb was coated with gasoline.

"If I used my other hand I would've fallen onto you and the chicken would've gone flying," he says simply as if to answer my unspoken "what the hell". "The napkins were too far away."

Testing the waters, huh?

Axel sidesteps me and saunters to the bowl of mashed potatoes. "Delicious."

More like diving headfirst into a tsunami.

He wipes the frying pan dry before storing it into a lower cabinet. "And that's the last of the dishes."

With a scoff I turn off the water. "Do you ever use those dining plates?"

"What's the point when I can just eat out of the pan?" He offers me the dishcloth so I can dry my hands.

I chuckle quietly, folding the cloth and setting it on the counter when I finish. "Your kitchen, I suppose. You can do whatever you want."

"Exactly." Axel points a finger at me. "Glad you understand."

At the sight of his finger a lingering heat returns to my face. I hum nervously and glance away. "Why'd you agree to this?"

He looks at me confusedly. "To what?"

"This," I wave a hand to the whole kitchen. "This dinner thing."

His hand magnetically travels to the back of his head as he takes a moment to respond, "I heard you turned down Avatar to hide in your dorm and mope."

"M-Mope?" I sputter. "I wasn't moping."

"Oh really?" He lets his hand quickly descend to his jeans pocket and whips out his cell phone, pressing a few buttons. "What were you doing, then? Burying yourself into your bed for fun?"

"I was tired," I sigh, throwing up my hands in exasperation. "What's so unusual about turning down a movie out of exhaustion?"

"It depends what kind of exhaustion," he mutters, finally handing me his phone. "Physical exhaustion I can understand, but that doesn't look like it's the entire package."

As I study the picture on his phone, my eyes squint and blink to take in the image of a head of dark hair peeking out from some dark blue bed covers and framing a pale, crestfallen face. "Who's this?"

Axel rolls his eyes. "You. Duh."

My teeth grind against each other in an effort to spit out a denial, but then I realize I have dark blue bed covers that look exactly like the ones in the picture.

"'Wanted: Prescription to cure blues.'" I read aloud the caption as if hearing the words aloud will help me register everything, no matter how ridiculous it seems. "'Recommendations, Dr. Axel?'"

"Your dorm mate's a sneaky one," he teases.

With a loud snap I shut his phone and glower at him. "I do not have the blues."

A fine eyebrow perks up skeptically. "After observing you for the past hour, I'm going to have to disagree with you," he states in his professional, graduate-studying-for-a-Ph.D. tone.

"Observing me?" I stammer as a dull ache settles in my chest. "You agreed to this so you could observe me? What am I, a test subject?"

"You're a patient suffering from emotional distress," he calmly answers, his hip leaning against the counter easily. "Namine and Kairi weren't specific about what caused your illness, so I scheduled a private appointment to hopefully gather more information that will help me prescribe the right medication."

I purse my lips together, coating my words with sarcasm. "And what information proving I'm emotionally distressed have you gathered so far, doctor?"

Axel patiently takes back his phone from my hand (setting my skin on fire in the process). "Exhibit A: You turned down Avatar."

"So? I can go see it another time."

"Today was the first free day you've had ever since the movie began showing. Kairi said you'd been hoping to see it for the past few months."

"I was tired today. I'll see it on a day I'm not tired."

"Exhibit B," he goes on, "you were completely oblivious to Namine when she took the picture earlier. Even when you're fatigued, you always catch little details like that."

"I suppose Kairi told you that, too," I sneer, secretly cursing at the truth of his statements.

"A doctor must refer back to his patient's medical history," he counters. "You should know that."

This time I roll my eyes. "Of course I do, but medical history is private. No one but a patient and her doctor can discuss it."

He smirks. "But Kairi isn't a doctor. I am."

My mind goes blank at the sight of his grin. I almost close my eyes to clear my head so I can come up with a retort. The best I can think of disappoints me terribly. "Then what exactly do you prescribe, doctor?"

Before my eyes, Axel's calm and collected demeanor cracks, the entire image now marred as his hand returns to the back of his head and rubs nervously. "…I don't know yet. I haven't learned much more than what Kairi and Namine told me."

I blink a few times and my heart nearly stops. He doesn't even appear confident anymore.

"I was hoping you could tell me what's up," his green eyes flick to mine momentarily. "I can only observe what's happening with you on the outside."

The dull ache in my chest intensifies as the memory of his blunt confession yesterday plays in my head. Despite this, a (sad) smile grows on my face. "As a patient, I can refuse medical attention," I answer. "If I were sick, I'd want to heal on my own."

The nervousness in his eyes gives way to…something else. "There's a lot of risk with that. You could get even more sick."

Gulping down my scream at the sudden weight of the air, I breathe deeply and murmur, "If I do, maybe I'll schedule another appointment."

"You could need more than a simple prescription by then." Red hair sways as he shakes his head. "You could need to be placed in intensive care."

I think I already do.

"Thank you for your advice…doctor."

Both Kairi and Namine greet me when I open the door to the dorm. Kairi's hand grabs my wrist and yanks me in, dragging me to my bed as she demands every last detail.

"Ee-mah-nee!"

I curl my fingers into my palms and groan. "What?"

"You had plenty of opportunities to leave hints!" Kairi cries. "I can't believe you!"

"Hints?" The moment I utter the word, dread clings to my conscience like the medical tape at the nurse's office when I'm trying to cut off a piece and stick somewhere else besides my fingers.

"That you love him! Like when he said something about finding the right medication for you, you should've said something like, 'You're the right medication, doctor. A daily dose of you will make me feel really good.'"

"Oh heck no."

"Or you could've let him in on what was bothering you. Or you could tell me why you were moping—"

"I was not moping!" I almost shout, the discomfort of almost having a painful secret revealed lingering in my gut and eating at my brain. "Nothing's bothering me."

Kairi scoffs. "Don't give me that. Why won't you tell us? You still haven't told me why Axel was chasing you down so much yesterday."

"I'm surprised he didn't kiss you again," Namine comments, gracefully changing the subject for my sake. "He could've licked off that piece of potato on your lip instead of licking his fingers clean."

"That would've been so amazing!" Kairi gushes, undisturbed and easily distracted. "Then you two would've forgotten all about dinner and started making out and—"

"Stop, Kairi! Go back to your dorm."

Author's Afterthought: This was the hardest chapter to write yet. I didn't know what I wanted to happen. Please, please, please let me know what you think about this chapter. I feel a bit brain-dead.