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Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts; this was purely fan-made and in no way should profit out of this.

However, I DO own Chance/Cenchax, and he cannot be used without my permission!

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CHAPTER XXXXIII: Final, Part 3

The previous day…

He stared down at what he had stolen. The last thing he'd ever steal. Two feet long. Three inches at its thickest. Sharp enough to split hairs. He gave it a test run. He ran it across the bare flesh of his arm without wincing as it sliced through the scars, causing them to crack. Scabs fell to the ground in a silent clatter. Blood flowed gently from the wound.

The success of the weapon didn't make him look any more lively. A dull, empty look of cold determination filled his eyes. He felt dead to the world. And, that's what he wanted; he just wanted to be dead. It's what he had been striving for, for the past 2 years of his pointless life, not to mention for 3 months of nonexistence. He just wanted to be gone, and never come back. And, this one time, he'd get what he wanted.

He looked ahead. Up this high, the air was colder, but his Organization coat kept the wind out, and insulated him. But he wanted to freeze; he wanted to become numb to the throbs in his chest. He almost tore if off, but he couldn't leave anything behind as an indication. This life he was to leave without a trace.

Besides, why should he even bother freezing? In mere minutes, he'd never feel again. Truly. Unlike when he became a Nobody, this time, he wouldn't feel mentally scarred from his memories. He wouldn't feel sorrow when he saw a familiar face. He wouldn't feel love when he saw the focus of his emotions passed by.

In death, it wouldn't matter if everyone hated him. It wouldn't matter if he was unloved. None of that would matter, because, for once in his life, he wouldn't be able to feel anything. Ever again. Death did not lie. Death did not make promises that it couldn't keep. Death never got hopes high. Therefore, in Death, in truth, he'd find a final resting place where nothing could hurt him.

He began to run through his entire life as he began to walk towards the edge. One last pain spree to encourage him that this was the right thing.

December 28, 1991. I was born.

Age 5. Best friend shot instead of me. I should've died instead, but I didn't.

He paused to lift a fist to his chest, gasping. Brandon…A tear ran down his face, and he grit his teeth. I can barely remember you, and, when you died, I didn't understand what was happening…but now…

The memory filled his mind.

"Hey, Brandon, he looks like one of those action figures!"

"Chance, he does, he does!"

"Let's ask if we can see that big black stick in his hands! All of our action figures have those!"

"Alright! Oh, look, he sees us! Hey, there, Mister!" A bright smile. A wave. The man glared at them. That's when he began to have his doubts.

"Um, Brandon, he doesn't look friendly…"

The gun was pointed at them.

"Brandon, I think we should get away from him…"

"Oh, come on! He's just posing! Hey Mister!"

He began to back away while his best friend bolted forward. And that was his friend's fatal mistake.

He couldn't remember clearly, but the last scenes he could recall consisted of a giant bang, and his friend Brandon, eyes wide. He remembered something red coming out of his mouth, reminding him of the Kool-Aid that he and his mother made the other day. Except it smelt worse, and oozed everywhere instead of spilling cleanly. He remembered running away, but everything else was black…

Another tear ran down his face. I'm sorry…I wish I could say I'd do anything for your forgiveness, but I won't be here much longer.

He looked down from his perch. He was about 400 feet from the pavement. The height might've made anyone else dizzy, but for him, it did nothing. He was beyond feeling pain. He was already gone at this point.

Age 7. Parents dead, burned alive in a fire I created. I should've died instead of them, or at least died with them.

He found himself trapped in another memory. The same ones from before.

"Mommy, I'll be careful!"

"…Alright, Chance, go ahead…"

"YAY! I'm going to bring it to my room!" He started running upstairs…

"Chance, NO!"

TRIP!

A blast of warmth. Burning his face. He screamed in pain and in fear. He ran away…

He dragged her…

But she ran back to get him…

"BOLD! PLEASE, DON'T BE DEAD!"

"MOM, COME BACK!"

"Mommie will be alright, sweetie, she just needs to get back in there…"

"BUT YOU'LL GET HURT!"

She was already running away…

"DON'T LEAVE ME!"

The scene was fading. He was losing his parents. He was losing his home. He was losing everything…

"MOMMIE! PLEASE, NO!"

His screams split the air. Hers joined his in a moment. Underneath them, and the shouts of the firemen, were the sobs of a 7-year-old boy, curled up in a fetal position, watching his house burn down in front of his eyes.

"NO! NO! MOMMIE! DADDIE! PLEASE, COME BACK!"

A fireman walked up to him. "Chance…I think you should come with us…"

"Why? WHERE'S MOMMIE AND DADDIE?"

"…They're not…coming back…"

He remembered how his heart had stopped. He remembered how he hadn't wanted to believe it. He shook his head, whispering, "No…No…"

"Son, they're gone…"

The friendly tone did nothing to reassure him. The nose slowly gained volume, until he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"No…No…NO…NO…NOO! NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! NO!"

By the time the memory ended, and he returned to his normal conscious, he found that he was kneeling on the ground, bawling into his hand. The sword had slit his hand, having fallen out of his hand when he hit the ground, but he didn't care. He pressed it closer to his face, willing deep red and clear blue to mix together. But he wasn't done yet.

Then, I met Treep at age 10, age 14; I broke, and tried to kill myself for the first time…

As though an electrical course ran through his body, his entire physical being jolted, eyes widening. Tears poured down his face, faster than before, and his sobs became more hysterical. He couldn't breathe for several moments, too choked by his sobs…

He willed himself to remember, one last time…His frizzled, dark brown hair that never seemed to be straight…His had dark tan skin, almost a caramel color…His maroon scars covering his body…His muscular form…His level of maturity, older than his age…His beautiful eyes…one was bright green, the color of grass in the morning, and one was bright blue, bluer than the sky…The maroon scar around the blue one…The blue having a pupil of gray…The air to himself that he had something to hide…The way he carried himself with such power and confidence…His fearlessness…

He forced himself to remember Treep, and the way he reacted.

Through the forest the two walked, a generally friendly silence coming from Chance, and a hostile silence coming from Treep…

"Look, I know. I know what you want. I know. And I'm just warning you, before I hurt you, that it's a waste of time and effort. I'll only break your heart."

"But, what if I like being broken?"

"Look, I'm only trying to help! If you get broken, you can't be fixed!"

"I'm sure you could fix me…You can do anything!"

"No, I can't! You'd end up getting hurt! I don't want to hurt you! Why do you think I'm so cold to you all the time?"

"I already hurt myself enough…You'd help make the pain go away…"

"Look, I have every reason to not be with you…"

"I have every reason to care about you…"

"It won't work out! I don't even LIKE like you!"

"Feelings can grow over time!"

"I should probably hate you!"

"I don't care…I…love you…"

He stiffened up even more. He whipped around, not noticing that Chance was leaned in…

He lost his balance slightly…

Lips hit lips…

But he shoved him away, fuming with anger. "You suicidal…bastard…" he breathed.

"I HATE YOU!" he screamed. Then, he ran through the forest.

"NO!"

He was running through a dark forest, trying to keep up…the one he was tailing was so fast…

Deeper, deeper, deeper…How much farther could they run before one of them tired…?

Huff…Huff…Huff…His breathes were becoming strained. He tried to keep quiet…Just to talk to him again…he had to make up…it was all his fault…

He just had to talk to Treep. That was all he needed to do. Explain that it was an accident…Apologize for everything he did, and hadn't done…Tell him they could just be friends…Friend was all he needed…

They were passing through a clearing…he could see him! Just to apologize…just give him a second…

A second clearing neared…

Suddenly, Treep whipped around. The rage in his eyes seemed inhuman. He growled, almost sounding like a wolf. His beautiful face was twisted in rage…The face Chance had once come to love was now the one that Chance had come to fear…

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he roared. He smacked him in the face. Chance felt himself fall to the ground…

Even before it came, Chance knew it was coming; the ripping pain, externally and internally…He knew that, no matter what Treep did, he'd be hurt for the rest of his life…

SSLLAASSHH!

A ripping pain…the sound of four padded feet pounding away furiously…he could feel something warm trickling down his back…No…no…he's…gone…He'll never listen…The pain on his back was nothing compared to the pain in his heart…

There was no point in struggling any more. Treep had proven the fact that he had tried to deny ever since his parents had died in the fire…

"I'll never be enough…" he moaned. He almost allowed himself to get sick, but realized that he was leaving behind enough traces with the blood pouring from his hand. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, forcing himself to calm down until his stomach stopped churning. He still sniffed in pain, and didn't try to stop the teardrops falling from his eyes.

He was finally placid enough to stand up, and look down at the drop. He willed for himself to get it over with, but, no. He had to suffer just a little more. He had to remember his entire life. All of the pain, all of the heartache…All of the fear.

December 13th, 2007. Lost heart.

He shivered. The memory was actually almost pleasant, compared to the others. He had finally died on that day, even if it was only to come back to life.

But, still…those horrifying creatures…

He heard something behind him; a sound that could best be described as…well…something appearing…

It stood on its hind legs. It had long antenna. It had lifeless, yellow eyes. It looked almost humanlike, but it was nothing that could come from this world.

It ran at him. He ran. He couldn't hear it; it made no more noise. But, when he looked behind him, it was there, always a pace or two behind him.

Huh….

Huh…

Huh…

Huh…

He ran, panting.

He looked behind him.

The thing was still chasing him. It terrified him how fast it was.

TREE.

"Ow…my head…"

His one visible eye widened in shock as he looked up.

The thing was right in front of him.

And there were more.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" What does it want?

He scrambled to get up and tried to run away, but the thing grabbed him with its thin hand.

Then, he felt a pain sear through him, connecting to his back.

He gasped in pain, his breathes coming out ragged. Mist showed his breathes rising to the heavens. He felt warm blood trickling across his back.

They slashed again. He screamed in pain. Even when he tried to die, it had never been this painful…

Again and again, 5 more times, they slashed. Every time, Chance moaned, becoming light-headed at the loss of blood. Just end it alrea…He could hardly think straight…

He felt his body slumping. His eyes were closing. He felt the blood flowing out of him. The pain, dripping away…

Then one of those things drifted in front of him. He was almost blind with pain, and could barely see it.

It struck him squarely in the heart.

He felt like his heart was being torn out. Almost physically, but he couldn't see any blood through his blurred vision. He tried to fight; he didn't know how, but he tried…

But the pain had weakened him…

His defense slipped for a second.

That seemed to be all what the black creature needed.

Chance felt his heart weakening, his strength draining. His breathes became ragged gasps to shallow pants. His eyes closed. He fell to the ground as the creatures dropped him.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he was finally dying…

This is how it ends, isn't it? Alone, bleeding to death, without being loved…I didn't even know what killed me. They'll probably find my body in a few days, covered in blood. And no one will look for me; someone will just stumble upon the body. It just proves the fact that I'll never be enough…

Dead.

Or so he had thought. For, a few days later, he woke up…

December 16th, 2007. Found Roxas. I fell in love again.

The pain shot back through him. All of the memories came down on him. His first, tiny advances of friendship. Realizing that he loved the blonde. The suicidal rampage. Confessing his love, and telling the truth to him. All of the advances, all of the fear, the doubt…The care the other almost seemed to show…

But the care that he was almost given wasn't enough. He had already seen what love could do. There was no way he was surviving just to risk his existence on another stupid chance.

So much had happened that the small, little snippets were all he could remember…

Blonde. Blue eyes. Spiky hair that swirled upwards. Lean form, visible underneath his coat. Peachy skin. A child-like complexion.

"I'm Roxas." An adorable smile.

And that's all it had taken.

He felt around for a bruise or a bump, or for a fever, ignoring the rush of emotion that he got when his fingers ran through Roxas's hair…

You have no heart…It's too short of a time…He isn't even gay…

I don't care…I love him…

He couldn't love Roxas, physically and mentally. It was impossible…

Nothings impossible…Face it. You love him…

It was true…

More mistakes were made…The memories were fuzzy, but they were still there…

Cenchax leaned in and gave him a kiss, directly on the lips. He began to unzip his coat. Roxas managed to pull away and zipped it back up. "KEEP THAT ON!"

"Don't be shy…We're both virgins, so no need to feel awkward. We'll teach each other…"

He leaned in and breathed on Roxas's neck. Then, he kissed it, first gently, but getting rougher, until, he cause a small red and purple mark to appear on the boy's skinny, peachy neck. "ACK!"

"It'll hurt in the beginning…all of this…But, don't worry…It'll be worth it…"

He leaned in closer, un-zippering Roxas's coat. Roxas grabbed his hand before he could go any farther.

"I want you, Roxas…I love you…I love…I LOVE you…"

Roxas blushed, unsure of how to answer. He took that moment of Roxas's surprise to start pulling both his zipper down and Roxas's…Halfway…

He shoved Cenchax off of him, and slapped him so hard, that Cenchax rolled right off the bed. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YOU SUICIDAL BASTARD!"

Cenchax was getting up, slowly. He supported himself with one arm, moaning in pain. Then, he hurled all over Roxas's carpet.

Then, Cenchax's head flew up. He looked down at himself. His zipper still was down, almost to the middle of his stomach. He looked around. He realized he wasn't in his room. He felt his cheek. It was still red from when Roxas had slapped him…

He looked behind him.

ROXAS…Blushing, scared, zipper pulled down, angry, confused...

Cenchax knew it. He didn't remember what he did; he just prayed he hadn't hurt Roxas…

Then, he saw the mark on Roxas's neck…

Tears welled up in his eyes. He had HURT Roxas…Intentionally hurt him…

He blew it. It was over. Gone. He had moved way to fast…

I screwed up with him…Just like when I screwed up on…Treep.

"I'M SORRY, ROXAS!"

"Wait…Cenchax!"

His wrists bled freely, causing the carpet to grow damp. His tears mixed in with the blood. He grabbed his notebook and both his pens, sobbing with heartbreak. I'm so sorry…

Roxas, I can never do anything to make you forgive what I've done…But, I promise you this…I will try every method I can think of until I finally find a way to just DIE…

He traced his fingers along the walls, blood creating symbols…

Out loud, he moaned the words, "Roxas…I'm sorry…Goodbye…" He felt sick again, disgusted that he allowed himself to do anything like that to the innocent boy. Roxas had never done anything wrong; why was HE the victim of Cenchax's emotions? Why did HE have to suffer as well? Poor, angelic, charming, pure Roxas…Why he let a deformity like Cenchax in his presence was beyond the Fearless Psychic.

Then, after his death rampage…

"I'm sorry, Roxas…I'm sorry for what I did…I should've watched myself more…I should've been more careful…I know that Zexion probably told you…But…I do…Love you…"

"But…How…?" his love asked.

He didn't know how. He knew that, somehow, he cared for Roxas…

Even if he was a Nobody…

Even if he was just half a person…

Even if he didn't exist…

Even if there could be no other in his life…

"Well…Treep…Hurt me, and put a hole in me…I guess I thought that you could try to fill the hole…But, Roxas, I know that you can never return my feelings…But I had to let you know…I'm sorry…"

Then, there were the small, happier memories of Roxas, each one blending into the next.

He slipped his fingers around one of Roxas's hands, expression not changing. He hadn't even realized what he had done…

"But…It's…not…"

"Right…"

"I shouldn't…"

"Do it…"

"We…"

"Us…"

Before they realized it, the light from the outside world was flooding the dark tunnel. And their lips were pressing against each other…

Finally, Roxas looked up. "Cenchax…You don't have to keep dodging away…Accidents happens, and, I really can't blame you for how you feel. Sometimes, you just can't stop things like that. I'm not mad. I'm not sad. I'm only frustrated that you don't understand that I'm okay with you being closer than normal…"

He looked down at his shoes. "If we hold hands, hug a little longer than we should, stare a moment too long…Even a little private kiss, maybe…Cenchax, I'm okay with that. I understand. You, of all people, deserve a little special treatment…It's okay. I understand. You don't have to worry…"

He leaned onto Cenchax's shoulder. "It's okay…You don't have to be afraid to react because of your feelings…It's okay to show affection…Even if it's more than you think is right…"

"But, Roxas…" Cenchax murmured, blushing. "It doesn't feel right…I've never done anything like this before…" No matter what reassurance he was given, he still wasn't used to handling one-sided love relationships.

"Cenchax…" Roxas pressed himself closer. "This isn't what happened before. This is completely different…I'm completely comfortable with this…It's alright every once in a while…And, if I'm ever uncomfortable, I'll tell you to stop…"

"I don't know…It's…hard…" Cenchax whispered.

"It's okay…Go ahead…"

Cenchax took in a breath of air. Okay, Roxas wins. Ready to pull away at any moment, should the need arise, Cenchax slowly snaked his arm around Roxas, pulling him just a tiny bit closer. He rested his other hand on Roxas's lap. His face was bright red. Roxas, in response, laid his hand on top of Cenchax's hand, stroking it gently.

"Cenchax…I'm not like Treep. I'm different…Maybe it's not a good thing, but it also means that I would never hurt you…You're one of my best friends, Cenchax, and I'd do anything to help you…"

Cenchax forced himself to slowly relax. Once he had calmed down, it seemed just so natural to be there. He managed a small smile, and rested his head against Roxas's, allowing himself to take in small whiffs of the Key of Destiny's honeysuckle hair.

"I'm okay with this…" Roxas murmured one more time…

He smiled, eyes half-closing. He walked up to Cenchax. "Is that what you want…?" he murmured.

"NO!" he rapidly responded with.

Roxas leaned in, a knowing, almost teasing expression on his face. "It's okay…You're a little selfish today…But I guess that's okay for you. You can be selfish every once in a while…" He got closer to Cenchax, who blushed again. "It's the least I can do…"

Gently, he leaned in and gave Cenchax a sweet peck on the forehead. Cenchax stared up at him, heart pounding. Roxas pulled away slowly, eyes opening in an expression of caring that Cenchax couldn't pull his gaze from. "Sweet dreams…"

"Oh, Cen-chax!" a sing-song voice chimed, accompanied by the soft thumping of leather as boots sprinted across the ground. Cenchax stiffened. He turned is head to face Roxas. Too late. Roxas was already 5 feet away from him. Without another thought, the blonde pressed his arms on Cenchax's shoulders, and pressed his lips up against Cenchax's face.

Unfortunately, Roxas had not calculated that Cenchax would turn his head, so where his right cheek used to be moments ago, his pale lips were. Nonetheless, he closed his eyes and remained where he was for a few moments. Cenchax stared, his eye wide. His entire face was a deep shade of maroon, rivaling Axel's hair in intensity of redness.

Roxas pulled away eventually, smiling. Their lips made a small 'Smooch' as they parted. "Happy Valentine's Day, Cenchax…" He leaned in and gave the older boy an Eskimo kiss. "You're too sweet for your own good…" Roxas took his hand. "Come on! I hear that Xemnas is having a romantic horror movie night to celebrate today! Great way to finish the day, huh?"

He smiled, and gripped Roxas's hand, matching the young boy's steps. "Yeah, great…"

Roxas smirked back at Cenchax. "Go ahead. Say it. I won't mind."

Cenchax hesitated. "You know you wanna…"

Cenchax blushed, and looking away, murmured, "I…I love you…"

Roxas smiled. "I have mutual affection for you, too…"

"Hey!" Roxas exclaimed. He leaned forward and smacked Cenchax on the head. Cenchax laughed hysterically.

"Hi, I'm Roxas, and I can't think!"

"That's it, you!" Roxas snapped playfully, grin stretching across his face. He leapt over the table and tackled Cenchax to the ground, laughing. The boys tussled for a bit, laughing. Roxas finally pinned Cenchax down, and lifted his collar, raising his fist as though he were going to sock him in the face. But, he would never really do that; he was giggling too much to actually look like he meant to threaten his inferior. Cenchax laughed, too, eye closed…

He leapt out of his bead, sprang to his door, tugged it open, bolted across the hallway, and opened the door of Roxas's room.

Roxas looked up at him as he flew through his door, panting.

"I don't wanna be alone…" he muttered, almost sobbing in a mixture of fear and desperation.

Roxas smiled. He scooted over. "It's okay…Come in…"

Cenchax closed the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and carefully crawled in. He lay beside Roxas, feeling comfort in just having the blonde's presence there. He didn't move any closer than he was, and faced away from the blonde, sighing in what could almost pass for ease.

Roxas scooted closer. "Do you wanna talk about it…?"

"…It was my mom and dad…the last day I saw them…"

Roxas reached over Cenchax's chest, took one hand, and gave it a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault…And at least you're alive…It's okay."

"It's not okay…" Cenchax closed his eye, and gripped Roxas's hand. He just wanted to hear the sound of Roxas's voice, and have it chase away the bad memories. "It WAS my fault…And even if I lived, I don't want to live the life I've been granted…I don't wanna sleep…I don't want to go back there…" He shuddered slightly.

Roxas rest his head on Cenchax's shoulder. "Think other things…"

"It's hard to…Every time I think of something, it connects back to the…" Cenchax gulped. He gripped Roxas's hand tighter. "Fire…" He started shaking.

"Shh…It's okay, Cenchax…" He rubbed the black-haired Nobody's shoulder. "I'm right here…Everything's okay…Just find a happy thought…"

Cenchax closed his eyes. "Imagine you're in your favorite place in the world…It's a calm day outside, and raining slightly…"

Cenchax sighed, content. He nuzzled deeper into the pillow, looking more relaxed.

"The trees are all in bloom, and they're all sakura trees, with pink-white petals drifting everywhere…You're in a giant field, and there's a picnic…"

"Can…You be there?" Cenchax asked, only half-awake now.

"I'm there. We're having desert, some snickers bars, and drinking some Red Mountain Dew, and listening to Linkin Park and Evanescence and all of your other favorite songs…Xemnas gave us the day off, so we aren't breaking any rules…We're underneath the shade of an oak tree, and we climb to the top, and find some lyrics there…"

"What are they…?" Cenchax murmured.

It was quiet for a moment. Then, a melodious voice began to sing.

"Without you, there's no reason for my story…" he began. He stroked Cenchax's hair. "And when I'm with you I can always act the same…Forever, yeah if we're together, We can make it better…You and I, we never get to sleep we're up all day. We've overworked and under paid. You and I, we're always stuck in repeat day by day, watching time drift away as we burn away…"

He felt a head on top of his own as he finally drifted to sleep. "Without you, there's no reason for my story…And when I'm with you, I can always act the same…"

Roxas…

Tears ran down his face. No matter how happy those memories were, they just weren't enough. Little memories, no matter how numerous, weren't enough to cover his failures in the Organization. They weren't enough to stop the inevitable.

There. He was done. He picked the sword off the ground, and stood at the edge. He was ready. He gave himself a million reasons to die, and only about ten to stay alive.

He knew what he had to choose.

He wondered what Sora was doing to the Organization now…He was sure that Xemnas would be furious that he had failed. But, none of that mattered. Nothing mattered, except this one, last action.

He lifted the sword in his hands. He aimed it for the center of his back, right at his spinal cord. He leaned forward, to help his aim, and to prepare enough force for the blow to go all the way through.

I have to wait for just the right moment…He closed his eyes. Time passed at an extremely slow pace as he waited for his once-in-a-lifetime chance to come around. The ache in his heart convinced him that this was the right choice. What was the point of living on if each day matched a day burning in Hell? Even in non-existence, where he shouldn't even feel at all, he felt pain. Pain caused by golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a child-like completion. Pain caused by frizzled brown hair, two-colored eyes, and a toned body. Pain caused by bright yellow hair, orange eyes, and a red body, incinerating all that is near it.

That's all it had taken. Memories, a weak body, love, and pain. That's all it ever took.

His eyes flew open. There. This was it. He didn't have a moment to lose.

As the sword plunged through him, his eyes widened. His mouth flew open, and he tasted bile and blood leap out from his throat. He was aware of the fact that the movement was causing him to teeter off the edge. But, that was his plan. As he listened to the sounds of metal breaking through skin and bone, he knew that this was it. Finally.

He began his plunge quickly, gaining max acceleration quickly. He closed his eyes, feeling the blood pelt off of him. More dripped down from his lips, flying through the air, drifting to the ground once they were freed from their host…

Memories flooded through him. All of his memories from the Organization, even the ones of Roxas he had just recalled, came crashing down over him. His first night at the Organization, where Roxas's carving knife had cut him. THE GAME, where he realized he loved Roxas more than he thought possible. The party, where he had deliberately tried to take advantage of Roxas. The three days of straight, failed suicide attempts. Telling the truth to his friends. Thirteen happy days. Being shot, and nearly dying…

However, now, all that had happened didn't matter. He felt strangely calm as he fell, as though the wind was whipping away his blood, and, in it, was everything that had ever ailed him in the past. Blood rushed out his mouth, choking him, but years of failed hanging attempts and drowning failures had made him used to that feeling.

But the burden flew off of him with the wind, rushing by. Finally. This wouldn't fail. He would perish. He would leave Treep behind forever, letting the teenage boy rest in peace, never having to face the danger magnet again. He was leaving behind Roxas, whose life would be free of all the awkward friendships and mistakes. He was removing himself from the Organization, to save their plans from failure. He might've smiled at his friend's fortunes if he himself weren't in such energy-draining pain. Mind-numb, he could no longer sum up the energy to feel pain. It was wonderful. After so many years of begging for all of this to fade away, it finally would. For once in his life, he could finally sleep, forever, in complete repose.

But it was sure taking a long time to end. But, there was nothing he could do about it. He just have to wait for it to be over, despite how much he wanted it.

It was just as he had predicted.

He was falling so fast. How far was the ground? How was he to know? He didn't have the strength to open his eyes. The wind rushed against his body, flattening his hair against his body. He could hear the flapping of his coat, blown by the wind. He felt something run across his body, and though he couldn't feel whether it was hot, cold, sticky, or slick, he knew exactly what it was, and where it was coming from. It was blood, running down from his lips and his abdomen, caused by the sword plunged through his body.

This would not fail. He wouldn't find a way out of this one. This was it. He was finally going to do this. He knew it. He knew that, no matter what happened, this attempt would be his last. He had calculated everything. He had thrown together the most he could, in such a simple plan that he could execute it before he was found. This would be his life's only success. Everything had been set. He had made his move.

And it was done.

He just waited patiently for the reaction, letting the sound of the wind drown out everything else…

We're all brought into this life to die. So, we might as well make one helluva exit.

There were no screams, surprisingly. Everyone was too busy with their own days to notice him get closer and closer to the ground.

He didn't dare look down, in fear that he might have to wait another hundred feet. But, he finally got closer to the sounds of traffic behind him. He listened for his life-time chance. It was still coming.

Name. Chance Logan. Temporarily known as Number 14, Cenchax, the Fearless Psychic. Age. 16, approximately. Gender…Male. Previous Home, the Castle that Never Was. Sexual interests. Gay. Previous occupation, member of the Organization. Daily routine would be chores, missions, collecting hearts, and helping the process of Kingdom Hearts. No family. No past relationships. Allergic to cinnamon, and can't tolerate most drugs, and definitely not alcohol. Able to use psychic powers and mold personality. Wields Kamisori. Favorite color, lavender. Best known for, being the suicidal guy who always says, 'Dude…'

As he ran over his personal traits, he finally smashed against the pavement. His being shattered. All of his bones broke. His skull fractured. Everything went black. But, he wasn't dead yet; he could hear the screams of the citizens around him. However, not being dead yet didn't concern him. Because he still felt the vibrations in the ground. The horn of a gigantic truck sounded. Tires skidding against the ground, but Cenchax knew there would be no time to stop. He slowly began to lose conscious.

Finally.

Death was so sweet to finally meet.

Match 1st, 2008.

The day I died.

8 wheels crashed over his body, smashing what was left to shatter.

And finally, Cenchax was dead. Because he felt like he could never be enough.

THE END

~##~

And that's the end.

Several notes from the author:

-Honestly, in the end, there was only one ending; Cenchax had to die. I could've ended it a number of ways, true, but, he's s suicidal, and that's how his life would end.

-For Chapter 41: All of his moves and attacks were planned out, and I actually treated it as if it were an actual battle. If he were ever in any of the games (which he'd never be) that would be his battle strategy, his quotes, his moves…Everything.

-For Chapter 42: I know my members of the Organization differ from the games, so I wanted to make it seem as though his death had altered them, and turned them cold. I tried to incorporate all the relations I had seen between the Organization, and how they deteriorated and built up.

-For Chapter 43: I had planned this from the very beginning. And there will be no alternative ending.

Thank you so much for reading the entire story! It means so much to me! Honestly, it feels good to have it done…!

Be on the lookout for my next piece of work…

Oh, god, what am I going to do now that this is over?

~Cat's Eye