The musky smell of sweat, the distant drift of soap that all lined Noriaki's skin—they plagued Jotaro's mind. A thing of the past. His chest felt heavy.

Jotaro Kujo was like the desert winds, Kakyoin thought. The way his hands were rough all the while he was a sight to see all together; an elegant experience full of fierceness and not something you would want to get tangled up in. So similar to the very deserts they've been crossing. The thought drove him in more.

Upon hearing that the Superior wanted him in his office, it was not a surprise. Of course he would call Marluxia for a quick chat; Castle Oblivion was not even about a week away, Xemnas wasn't just going to give him the reins to leadership without consulting him first. Just to make sure things don't mix up between here and there. Marluxia thinks, anyway. Xemnas/Marluxia, rated M