XIV.

Denial was always the quickest and easiest way to ease cognitive dissonance. "...I'm afraid I don't understand whatever it is you're implying," Ienzo said.

"It's mine," Demyx said. The pain cut his voice in two. He sat completely rigid, his eyes empty and haunted.

Ienzo took a deep breath. A shaky anxiety bloomed in his chest. Demyx's lack of memories-recognizing the phrase "Daybreak Town"-it wasn't poetic language. It was a place. Xehanort had understood time travel more than the rest of them. Could he possibly have-? "No, it can't be. That means that somehow you'd have to be hundreds of years old. Surely you would have recognized it before now. No. I'm sure whatever connection you feel to this musician is just that." He waved his hand dismissively.

"I wasn't fully human before." He hissed the words. He breathed harshly. He touched the score, hand trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pressed his hands over his ears.

Ienzo was numb with panic, the revelations throwing him badly. It was not possible. How could it be? And yet. This was exactly the sort of thing Xehanort would do to get a move in edgewise, to pull from the past to subvert the present. Even though he was dead, playing with innocent lives had a cost-

Demyx cried out. It was an agonized, all-too-human sound. Ienzo reached for him and shook him, but he was deep in some kind of trance and would not rouse. He took out his gummiphone and made the call.

"Even." His own voice was ragged and utterly unlike his normal measured diction. "Even, I need help."

"Whatever is the matter?"

"It's Demyx-" He could not verbalize what was going on. Their connection had grown so deep, so quickly, that seeing him in so much pain was nearly incapacitating.

"Is he hurt?"

"Not physically."

"I think I understand," Even said. "I'm on my way."

Demyx was whimpering, small involuntary noises. It was possible he was seeing his own memories, and the psychological and physiological impacts of that were no doubt extreme. Ienzo pulled at his wrist and found it was rather limp. He took Demyx's pulse. High. Frightened, and impossible to maintain. If they didn't stabilize him his heart could give out.

Even threw open the door. "What is it? What's happened?" He was breathless.

"I'm not really sure-he-this score… he insisted it was his, and then he went into this weird trance, and I think he's remembering something . Even, I don't know."

Even crouched down next to Demyx, checked his vitals. "He's clearly in pain, and cannot maintain a heart rate that high for very long." He pulled a syringe and a vial out of his pocket. He stuck Demyx in the arm. Demyx started to relax as the sedation took hold. Ienzo eased him down so his head was resting in his lap. Even continued to monitor his pulse. His expression was wistful-but not at all surprised.

"You know what this is, don't you?" Ienzo asked.

Even did not respond right away. He looked to the score, still on the piano bench. "It was not my secret to share."

"Even," Ienzo said a little more sharply.

"Xehanort had more than one trump card up his sleeve." He sighed. "Didn't you find it strange how we all arrived in groups? Us apprentices with Lea and Isa, and then the four neophytes. There was some degree of time between each arrival, but not nearly enough to justify what were were told. If we were to believe it, that humanoid Nobodies were rare, shouldn't it have taken a lot longer to find the original thirteen?" He brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm not sure how exactly, but Xehanort pulled four Keyblade wielders from the age of fairy tales and made them Nobodies. Obfuscated their memories too, from the looks of things. I have no idea why it is he did this. But Xemnas told them at some point before the war, and Demyx asked me to investigate. I'm guessing this connection between you two only furthered his progress to humanity, and that when presented with a trigger, the memories came back."

Ienzo looked down to Demyx, who was deep in the grips of artificial sleep. "So it's true then."

Even nodded. "...Yes. It's true. I've studied his DNA myself. You positively would not believe it, Ienzo-"

Cold, anxious sweat gathered under his arms. "And you didn't think it prudent to ever mention this to me?"

Even's eyes softened. "Would it have changed your mind?"

"...No."

"Precisely. I assure you he hasn't experienced that passage of time."

"...He said he'd remembered something from his past. I did not think it was this. So that means he's really a-" Ienzo thought of Demyx's deep distaste for fighting or violence. In this new context, it made sense. The horrors of war could have planted that seed deep into his subconscious.

"Yes." Even smiled, aware of the irony. "I worked so hard to make replicas who could wield Keyblades, and we had four wielders right under our noses."

"But will he be all right?"

"Hard to say. All of those memories, some doubtless very gruesome and traumatic, his heart just healing… we must be patient."

They brought Demyx back to his room. Even started an IV, gave him more medication. Ienzo couldn't help, only watch. Once this was all through, Even led him to the kitchen and made him some tea. Cool tears which were oddly emotionless slid down his face. Even handed Ienzo a clean handkerchief.

"It is… a lot to process," Even said. "But we've seen Roxas and Xion in spells like these and they both came out on the other side. Have faith."

"Why is healing so dangerous?" Ienzo asked.

"It's only as dangerous as we delude ourselves," Even said finally. "Unfortunately, the spell he was under was a strong one."

"Do you think he'll be different?" His voice was a whisper.

Even considered this. "Perhaps," he said. "But no different than you yourself are. But the boy loves you, Ienzo. You can tell by the way he looks at you. I don't think that will change."

Ienzo looked down at his hands. "Is it typical, to feel this amount of shock?"

Even touched Ienzo's forehead. "Like many such reactions, it's a stress response."

"It is so… strange." He did not meet Even's gaze and instead traced the woodgrain of the table with his eyes. "With all that's happened in the past month or so, I find myself wondering if it is good to allow such vulnerability."

"I admit the situations have been… extreme." Even flinched. "But we've spent long enough closing our hearts and minds off to others, don't you think?"

"You're one to talk," he retorted. "You've been holed up in your lab all day every day, barely speaking to anyone. You seem to be the most hesitant of us all to accept humanity. Atonement aside."

"I don't deny it." Even sighed. "But I have not spent my time experimenting."

"What are you doing, then?" Ienzo asked dryly.

"Writing. Reflecting, mostly. Things always were the most tangible to me when they were on paper. If I can record my thoughts as data, perhaps I can make sense of them."

"Is it working?"

"Heavens, no," Even said. "But if I do not tread these tides of emotion, then I am more foolish than I thought."

"What is it you feel?"

Even frowned. "Mostly-remorse-" He admitted. He shook his head. "As scientists, one of our duties is upholding a moral code. Needless to say, we broke it. Xehanort was manipulative, yes, but while you were a child, I was an educated man who should have known better. I did know better. But I figured the gains I made would offset the costs. They have not. And now I want to use my skills for the greater good."

"Do you think the replicas could have anything to do with that?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Ienzo waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. "I must apologize to you, Ienzo."

It took Ienzo's dazed mind a moment to process whatever for. "Even-"

"We can blame Ansem's utter lack of paternal instinct all we want, but ultimately it is my fault that this all happened to you." For the first time, Ienzo noticed glints of gray in Even's blonde hair-gray borne of age and stress, not from his time as a vessel. "I should have understood Xehanort's machinations and taken you out of that mess, but I was selfishly nearsighted. Things are always clearer in retrospect. Are they not? You deserved a normal childhood, a normal adolescence, and got anything but. And years of fear and trauma on top of it."

Ienzo sighed. Despite the real truths in what Even said, Ienzo did not find any bitterness or resentment within himself. "I forgive you," he said.

"You're a kind young man," Even said. He smiled sadly. "I will try to make this up to you." He stood. "I'm off to do some reading. There might be a better way for me to help Demyx after all." He squeezed Ienzo's shoulder.

Ienzo went to bed.

His mind felt oddly devoid of thought and for a long time he watched the light change on the ceiling. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he became aware of, it was the middle of the night and he was dreadfully cold. He burrowed under the covers.

It's time to make sense of things, Ienzo.

Really this was something like heartache and he was struck by just how unfair the whole situation was. Xehanort was dead and he was still tormenting them both, jerking them back and forth on his omniscient puppet strings. Ienzo had lost his childhood; Demyx had lost all his memories. Xehanort had manipulated both of them, molding them like clay, while they remained none the wiser.

Ienzo sat up. He was livid. More aptly, really pissed off. What was the result of all this manipulation? And why did it feel so meaningless? If it weren't for Xehanort-

If it weren't for Xehanort…

Ienzo's anger cooled as quickly as it had come, hardening into a sour pit in his stomach. So much suffering. There had to be something else he could do, and not just for Sora. What about the others who had been lost, killed or worse by their experiments?

He stood up, put on shoes, and started walking.

In a sort of haze, he passed by the usual lab and over to the door to the containment cells. Nobody had come down here in a long time; least of all himself. The air down here was even colder-he could see his breath-and the crystal sconces didn't penetrate the gloom. This was dangerous. He was weaponless, powerless, and in distress; no doubt bait for Heartless. Ienzo remembered the keycode for the door. He reached towards the keypad. It was so much lower than it had once been. It was a simple number-all he had to do was punch it in.

He could not catch his breath. The air smelled faintly smoky, a precursor to the darkness no doubt contained within. He sank weakly to his knees.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm truly…"

"Ienzo? What on earth are you doing down here?"

Ansem's voice startled him. The flashlight he carried cast peculiar shadows across his face. "I could say the same," he said. He forced himself to his feet.

Ansem had a tablet computer tucked under his arm. "Data recovery," he said. "I had to wait for the download to complete."

"Data," Ienzo said numbly.

"I suppose you're wondering what I want with it." This basement was so deathly silent that Ienzo could hear his own breathing. "Come. I'll share my story if you share yours."

Ienzo followed after Ansem, icy curiosity replacing his previous rage. Ansem took him down hallway after hallway, some of which were familiar, some of which were not. Ienzo knew a lot of this castle was unexplored, and had a lot of secrets that even they did not know about. Its weight seemed particularly heavy.

They did not return to Ansem's quarters. Instead, these infinite hallways trailed out into, of all things, a large greenhouse.

Many of the plants that had been in these pots and planters had long since withered and died. The crystal walls were dingy with years of dirt, scratched and eroded from the weather. Power cords snaked from a hole in the chipped marble floor to a small console computer. Floodlights and a space heater made the room brighter than it would be otherwise.

Ansem cleared papers off of a folding chair and gestured for Ienzo to sit. He turned up the space heater.

"A strange workspace," Ienzo commented. "Stranger still, your decision to hide."

Ansem plugged in the tablet and began uploading the files. There was more silence, weird and flexible. "Why were you in the basement?"

Ienzo blinked. He felt an odd shiver of distrust, and it sat poorly in his throat. "Xehanort's parade of suffering is still rippling through this castle," he said. "Demyx and Luxord, Elrena and Lauriam-they're Keyblade wielders. He pulled them from the age of fairy tales, hid their memories, and tried to use them as vessels."

Ansem shook his head.

"Xemnas told the four of them during the war. Demyx had Even parse his DNA, and sure enough, it's true." He spoke rather numbly. "There was a sheaf of papers in one of your bookcases. It was a musical score from that time. I don't know if you knew about it, or if it just ended up there, but it turns out Demyx wrote it. Now that he's human… well. His memories are all coming back." He drummed his fingers on the edge of the chair. "And seeing him experiencing that-"

"It's always harrowing to see a loved one in pain," Ansem interrupted.

Ienzo felt a flush of frustration. Why were they all feeling the need to comment on their relationship all of a sudden? "Yes. I got to thinking about the legacy of suffering Xehanort had inflicted on us. I started to wonder if there might be a way to help the people we hurt find peace."

"I am not so sure about that. There are no bodies, Ienzo. And I've no idea if whatever lurks down there has existed since the experiments, or if it's drawn from a greater pool of darkness."

"Then why were you recovering the data, if you're not sure it can be of use?"

Ansem looked briefly to the screen. "I had thought such knowledge should be destroyed," he muttered. "I had gone down there with every intent to rip apart the console if that's what it took. But then I realized. The lessons we've learned since those experiments can be a cautionary tale. People should know what we did. If we're careful, we can help everyone else learn from our mistakes so that it won't happen again."

"I want to see it."

"What was that?"

"The rest of the data. I would like to see it." Ienzo could feel the idea blooming within him. It was a reckless, exhilarating feeling. If he was right about this, he could help everyone.

"Of course you may-once it's all downloaded."

Ienzo nodded. Even the volumes he'd read those weeks ago had only been part of their records. Soon it would be time to dive deeper. But for now, he had another task.

Before he went further, he checked in on Demyx.

He was asleep. He breathed a little too deeply and evenly, his form immobile. Ienzo wasn't sure if Even was still dosing him, or if this stillness came from the memories recovering from a more subconscious place. These things were so hard to tell. Ienzo kissed him on the forehead and left.

Even, too, was asleep when Ienzo found him on the cot in his lab. Of course he was; it was still rather late at night. Ienzo wondered if he were a tad manic. He should go lay down himself, wait until a reasonable time to ask for this favor. He turned to leave.

Even had always been a notoriously light sleeper. "Who's there?" he snapped, grabbing a scalpel from the table beside him. "Oh… Ienzo? Is something wrong? Is it Demyx?"

"No, he's still stable-it's fine. It can wait until morning."

Even scowled. "Clearly not, if you felt the need to come to me at this godforsaken hour." His expression softened. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Do you think it's possible to regain our powers?"

Even considered this. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes. "Why on earth would you want that?"

"Illusion let me see memories. If I can gain control over it, maybe I can help purge the darkness in the basement and help whoever's stuck down there find peace." He bit his lip. "Demyx is likely to be shaken up. Perhaps I can help him too. If I can make order of his memories, perhaps he will wake up without too much damage to his heart."

Even thought a long moment. "Have you even tried casting a spell?"

"Once," Ienzo said. "It… did not go well. I had a terrible migraine. I was wondering if you might have some sort of medicine that might let me work through the pain."

Even shook his head. He stood and crossed over to a bookshelf near the cot. He pulled out one of the volumes and started riffling. "You see… the thing is… such elemental power comes from the will, typically as a manifestation of some psychological trait or another. Hence why, in the absence of a heart, we were able to use it as Nobodies. But now that you are human… you've no need for such defense mechanism. Your being is whole. Trying to invoke it could be disastrous. The entropy of it alone would, in the best possible scenario, induce sleep."

"Sleep?"

"Sleep akin to death," Even said darkly. "They must lie so closely together. And you must hope you find the strength, fast enough, to save your life before you're claimed by the other side. Ienzo." His gaze was tense, frightened. "Would the risk be worth it? Is there not another way you can atone?"

"What about the reward?" Ienzo asked.

"Ienzo-"

"Please, Even. I'll be careful."

He crosses over to a cabinet and opened it. Bottles and bottles of pills lined the walls. Even considered several before he picked up one. "Take halfof one of these," he said sternly. "You'll feel no pain. But should your nose start bleeding, drop everything instantly and rest."

"Is that a side effect?"

"No. But that'll be entropy wreaking havoc on your body." Even pressed the bottle into his hand. "Let me watch over you."

Ienzo traced the ridged cap. "I think this is something I have to do on my own." He'd be going to a very painful place.

Even scoffed. "You children always think you know what's best. Fine. But if you do not text me within three hours I will hunt you down."

"Very well. Thank you, Even. This means a lot to me."

"Don't thank me yet." He smiled tiredly.