Grown

Ienzo didn't come here often. Some would say not often enough.

The garden wasn't very busy. It usually wasn't; a majority of these people's loved ones were simply gone, leaving no one to mourn them. Ienzo felt-perhaps selfishly-that he had spent enough time mourning and memorializing all these people that to come down here more than desired was not necessary.

Today was different.

The little corner with the red maple was well-cared for. Ienzo suspected that this was probably Demyx's doing-a little gentle prodding had netted that his culture highly valued cleaning a loved one's grave. There were even the remaining ashes of a stick of incense. Ienzo took a fresh one out of his pocket, lit it, and set it in the holder of the mortuary tablet.

He wasn't sure why he'd felt drawn here, today of all days.

It would probably always hurt a little to see their picture. The pain was becoming more acute as he thought of it. His memories of that time, without his powers to bolster them, were fading slowly. This newfound forgetfulness was not pleasant. There might someday be an instance where all he had left was this photo, these tablets, this tree.

In his periphery, he could see a small girl and what looked to be her grandmother kneeling by one of the blooms in the field. They clapped their hands, bowed in a show of respect. Was it rude, or wrong, if he did not do this also? His parents had never been religious, or even spiritual. Wherever they were, if they had any consciousness whatsoever, did they know they were here? ...That he was?

Ienzo thought he'd spent a long time thinking about death. This was not actually true; he'd spent his time thinking about darkness, what it means to fall. But to die? (To sleep, perchance to dream?) Even would tell him that a cessation of life was a cessation of existence. Ansem would probably waffle on philosophically about what certain religions believed. Demyx would probably say to not worry about it, at least not now.

Dying was a natural part of living; it would happen to him someday too, eventually.

His legs were starting to hurt from kneeling so long. A slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree.

"Oh… hey. Surprised you're here."

Ienzo looked up. Demyx was holding a canvas bag. "I could say the same for you. Though I figured this was your doing."

Demyx shrugged, a bit sheepish. He set the bag down, knelt, bowed his head for a moment, and then began to fuss with the tablets, brushing away tiny specks of dirt. Ienzo felt a stab of something like frustration, or maybe resentment; he seemed to know how to mourn Ienzo's parents better than Ienzo. "I mean… it's what you do for family, you know? And they're kind of mine, now. We've got the same name."

Ienzo relaxed a little. "Right. I didn't think of that." Their marriage was very, very new; they were still navigating the change in dynamic.

"If it bothers you, I'll stop."

"No… that's kind of you, to do that." He took a deep breath. "Do you do this often?"

"I stop by once a month or so. Usually when I'm passing through the area."

He hummed in response. "So what's that?"

"Oh… this was for later. For you, you know?"

Ienzo stared at him blankly.

Demyx cocked his head. "Did you forget? It's your birthday."

"I didn't… forget. It's usually a nonissue." He'd never celebrated, even when he was very small. It was normally another day; last year, Demyx hadn't even known the date, and so Ienzo was able to get away with not celebrating. Not to mention, the year before that he'd been laid up, unable to breathe around the swelling in his throat from the replica-He clasped his neck automatically.

Demyx frowned. "It happened this time two years ago? The, uh. Thing?"

"I don't believe so. But it was during my… recovery."

"Oof. Big yikes. Well, uh. Sorry?"

Ienzo smiled. "It's alright."

"I just figured we'd… celebrate." Then, off Ienzo's look, "A little. Like, cake?" He gestured towards the bag. "Maybe some drinks." He shrugged.

"It seems… indulgent, to take a whole day for oneself."

"A lot happened this year. A lot." He squeezed Ienzo's hand gently, running a finger over the ring. "That's worth acknowledging."

"I… I suppose." Ienzo bit his lip. "Truthfully I feel much older than that."

"I know. You don't look it, though."

He laughed a little.

"Is that why you came here today?"

"Perhaps." Ienzo frowned. "I was thinking… that they'd never see me be grown. Sometimes I'm reminded more of them than others. I… I feel like a bad mourner."

"There's not a right way to do this."

"You know they were my age when they had me?"

"...I can understand why you're tripped out now."

Ienzo chuckled. "Maybe that is why I feel so unsettled."

Demyx kissed his cheek. "I cannot stress this enough-parenthood is optional."

"I know. And I am not ready to consider it more at the moment."

"You and me both."

"I barely feel like an adult-I couldn't possibly imagine-"

"I thought you said you felt old."

Ienzo shrugged. "As you can see, I am all over the place today."

"...Sounds like you could use a drink."

"Yes… maybe…" He stood and flinched as the blood rushed painfully back into his legs. "Or several-"

"That's the spirit!"

So far there was only one pub in town. It had been one of the first buildings to open back up after the Fall-which made sense. Healthy or not, those in pain need an escape, or perhaps the illusion of safety, and alcohol could provide both.

Being early evening, the place was relatively empty, and quiet. He relaxed a little.

"Happy birthday!" someone yelled shrilly in his ear, and he jumped.

"For fuck's sake, Yuffie. I asked you to be chill about this," Demyx said. He gave Ienzo's arm a reassuring squeeze. Ienzo tried to get his breathing back under control.

The guilty party scowled. "You two are no fun. Ever," she said.

Ienzo looked past her and saw that Leon and Aerith were here, too. "I'd really like this to not be about me," he said. "If possible."

"That's fine," Aerith said. "We're just friends, hanging out."

"And there just happens to be a cake," Demyx said. "What? I can't exactly return it."

"So what do you want?" Leon asked. "First round's on me."

"I'll have-" Yuffie said quickly.

"Not you," Leon said. "You're on your own, kid."

"I… I'm honestly not sure," Ienzo said. They rarely drank aside from some wine. "Nothing too terribly strong, I suppose."

"We'll just have what you're having," Demyx said, with a shrug. "Can't be picky when it's free."

Leon chuckled. "Alright." He crossed over to the bartender.

"This… is another thing that feels strange, but shouldn't," Ienzo said quietly to Demyx.

"Is it bad? Do you want to go home? I'm really sorry about Yuffie. She's just… like that."

He smiled. "No, I know it comes from a good place. I just need to… get comfortable."

"Alcohol will help."

"I surely hope so."

Leon came over with two glasses of brown soda. "Rum and coke okay?"

Demyx nudged him. "You'll probably like that."

Leon smiled. "Go easy, okay?"

"Thank you," Ienzo said. He took the glass, sipped. It was sweet, and he could just barely taste the undercurrent of the rum. "The things we do for fun."

Yuffie came over with a pint of beer. "Well, cheers," she said, and clinked her glass against his. "So I guess you grew up pretty sheltered, huh? You guys never got out much?"

Ah, right. This was part of it. Talking and drinking, drinking and talking. He felt Demyx rest a hand on his waist. Ienzo took a breath. Yuffie was blunt; she did not mean to offend. "Putting it mildly," Ienzo said. "I never used to… see the reason for such things. I'd rather hole myself up with a book. That was my entertainment."

"Eesh. Party animal."

He smiled. "Different times. Not so much now."

"To be fair, a lot of us were wet blankets," Demyx said. "No point getting fucked up if everything's already kind of numb, right?"

"I didn't think of it that way. You know. It's still really weird you guys were Nobodies."

"Tell me about it," Demyx said, with an eye roll.

"For me, the opposite is strange," Ienzo said. "Very much so."

She raised her eyebrow. "Like how?"

"Like…" Ienzo looked down into his drink, which seemed to be going down easily. "Well, I was a Nobody for nearly twelve years. A lot of… typical things passed me by. Like this. Drinking with friends in a bar was something I only ever read about in books. I thought it wasn't something that really happened; or at least, it never would to me. In the Organization… you get used to hiding, and doing what you're told." Was this conversation too dark? Did he lighten it up? Was she actually curious, or being polite?

"Same for me, kind of," Demyx said.

"You seem like you had a more normal time, though," Yuffie said. Then to Ienzo, "no offense."

"None taken. It's the truth." His glass was empty. He didn't know where to leave it, but holding onto it was awkward.

"You want something else?" Demyx asked. "I'm done too."

"Get whatever you want. I'll have the same." He wasn't feeling quite tipsy, just a little warm. He probably couldn't hold much, being not only small but unused to all this.

He went over to the bar. Aerith came over to them, with her wine. "All this time and Demyx barely talks about those days. I think he thinks it's taboo."

"Isn't it?" Ienzo asked. "It's… there's quite some tension there, isn't there?"

Yuffie snorted. "Yeah, well."

"We've… let go," Aerith said. "You've both proven yourselves to be good people."

"Practically model citizens, actually," Leon said. "At least I don't have to drag your drunk asses home. Unlike some of the people who come here."

Demyx came back with two more glasses, clear this time. "It's a time," he admitted. "It's not fun to deal with their alcohol poisoning. Trust me."

Ienzo took the new drink. "Every time I believe I get a grasp on the scope of work you all do, I'm proven wrong. How do you possibly do all this?"

Leon laughed. "Very carefully. Things are settling, though. We've got some actual people in charge. So instead of dealing with the infrastructure, and the construction…"

"Medicine and bureaucracy-" Aerith added.

"Heartless and bar fights," Yuffie said.

"We're cutting it down. But it's a lot to ask even now. I think if I were a few years older I couldn't take it."

"I'll drink to that," Demyx said. "I do barely half of what Aerith does and I'm exhausted."

"You'll get there," she said. "And Ienzo, it's not as if you yourself are a stranger to overwork. How many days did you go without sleeping?"

"Three," he said.

"Four," Demyx said. Then off Ienzo's look, "Sometimes I still have to babysit him. But he's gotten better."

"You two are good for each other," Aerith said.

"Nauseatingly so." Yuffie drained her beer. "Anyone want to play pool?"

"Sure," Demyx said. "Ienzo? Do you want to watch? It's fun."

He found himself perched on a bar stool, nursing his second drink, which was something clear and carbonated and almost entirely flavorless aside from the sharpness of vodka. He felt the same warmth as earlier, a little more heavily, his anxiety whispering now instead of shouting, though his head still felt clear. Wine had only ever really made him sleepy, but he was quite alert. He watched Demyx and Yuffie play the game. Both of them were pretty terrible at it, Demyx only winning by a slim margin. "Let's let Ienzo play," Yuffie said.

"I'm rather content watching."

Demyx offered him the stick. "I thought we were trying new things."

He looked at his glass, just ice now. "I'll try, but don't blame me if you lose."

"I never lose with you." He winked. "Alright. Stand here. It's okay, you can bend down a little low, and use your hand to aim it." Ienzo tried to listen, but Demyx's hand was on his waist, and he felt something like a flashburn of want. Not enough to be physically evident, but enough to give him pause in public. He hoped he wasn't blushing. His shot looked hopeless, but he did end up sinking one of the balls-just not one of Demyx's.

"Aw, thanks," Yuffie said. She blew him a kiss. "Your next one's on me, okay?"

"You're such a traitor," Demyx said playfully. He kissed him on the cheek. "I'll get you for that."

Such suggestive flirtation was usually off the table in public, but he found he didn't mind. "Is that a promise?"

"Ugh, gross," Yuffie scoffed. "Well. At least I won. Speaking of promises. I'll be right back." She went over to the bar.

Demyx took his hand. "You feel okay?"

"I feel… good. Perhaps a bit tipsy."

"I figured. You're not usually so flirty. I like it." He chanced a quick kiss.

"This is kind of fun," Ienzo said. "Thanks for… planning it."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Those guys can always used an excuse to get hammered."

Yuffie came back, holding a few small glasses. "I got shots," she said.

Demyx turned to him. "You don't have to drink it all at once."

"Yes you do. That's the point."

Demyx rolled his eyes at her. "Let's just let him do what he's comfortable with."

"What is it?" Ienzo asked.

"Straight whatever," Yuffie said. "Whiskey, I think."

"Alright, I'll try," he said.

Yuffie let out a whoop. "I knew there was an interesting person in there somewhere."

They drank; it tasted more or less like cough syrup, and he flinched, feeling the burn all the way into his stomach. Already he was feeling a little bit heavy, a little bit undefined, and definitely very warm. If there were a threshold between tipsy and drunk, he'd definitely just crossed it, and realizing this was a little dizzying. The sensation was instantly placeable, and he spent a minute trying to study it, to understand it.

"Cake?" Demyx asked.

"Sounds… very good."

This wasn't like being high, where everything was the same, only larger. Not quite dissociation, but not quite being in his body. He laughed more than he was wont to normally, at jokes that were less witty; it was easier to talk, which was how he found himself having a long, involved conversation with Leon about the state of the city, how it was ragged-yet-not. It would never be the same as it was, they decided.

After another drink, he felt again heavy, and had to sit down, contemplating the woodgrain in the table for probably too long. His thoughts were scattered, not quite so frenzied, but not as calm as when he smoked.

A cold glass was being pressed into his hand. Demyx sat across from him. "It's just water. You've had a couple and not too much to eat. I don't want you to get sick."

"I must be quite sloppy," he mumbled.

"No, not at all. You're fine. You think you're a mess, look at that guy." Demyx pointed to a patron at the bar, who was slumped over, fast asleep, while the bartender mopped up his spilled drink.

"Are you having fun?"

"I always have fun with you."

"I'm not holding you back?"

"Why would you?" He looked genuinely confused.

"Just… not being good at this."

"I don't think you want to be an expert at drinking," he said, with a laugh. "That's definitely not good for you."

He drank the water down.

Yuffie came over to them, stumbling a bit. "All good?"

"We're fine. Just chilling."

"Oh, cool. I thought you'd died." She hiccuped.

"Died?" Ienzo asked. "What do you-"

"Like, threw up, passed out," Demyx said. "Not literally."

"I wanted to sit down," he said.

"Mm, that does sound nice. You're so smart." She wandered over to Aerith and sat next to her.

"See, you're fine," Demyx said to him, with a wink.

"It just feels very odd to be so uninhibited in public. Usually it's just you and me. And I."

"Weird in a bad way?"

"Weird in a weird way."

"Do you feel anxious?"

"Not really," he said. "Is it bad I want to keep going?"

"I don't think so, if you feel okay. But if you're worried, have some more water first."

"Let's do that."

He felt less lightheaded after all the water, but it made him need to relieve himself, and being alone in the washroom made him aware of how strange this whole situation was. He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He washed his face with a paper towel, felt a bit better, and rejoined Aerith at the bar.

"Leon took Yuffie home," she explained. "She was getting a bit… belligerent."

"Oh dear," Ienzo said. He snorted despite himself.

"It happens. She talks a tough game, but she doesn't get to cut loose much, either." She set aside her glass. "You two in a hurry to get home?"

Demyx stretched. "Not really."

"I figure we could have one or two more at mine. It's on the way for you, anyway."

"Sounds good. Ienzo? Want to go?"

The bar was noisier now, more crowded-how had he not noticed earlier-now that it was later. "Sure."

Aerith lived alone in a two-room house on the edge of town. "It's not much," she said to Ienzo.

"I like your house. It's cute," Demyx said.

"Maybe one day you'll have one like it."

"Maybe," he said. He flopped onto the couch.

The room was full of plants. More illumina, glowing gently in the dark; herbs, ferns ("I have a soft spot for ferns," she said) and lilies, though their smell was less pungent than regular lilies.

It reminded Ienzo, for just a moment, of his mother; clipping and propagating roots and stems. He touched one of the plants.

What would they think if they saw him now? Grown up, married?

Very, very drunk?

The laughter was harder to contain now. "Something funny?" Aerith asked. She was rummaging in a cabinet.

"Probably not to anyone but me."

"He does that sometimes," Demyx said. "Keeps himself entertained. Thinks himself into a corner."

Ienzo glared at him. "You're not much better."

Demyx stuck his tongue out at him, then giggled.

Aerith came back with a bottle of wine and some glasses balanced precariously in one hand. In the other, a joint. "You guys want?"

"I'd rather have that than a drink." At least this much was familiar.

"Sit, it's okay. You're basically family." She took a few tokes and passed it to Demyx.

"So much for one of us being in commission."

"We're far past that," she said.

Ienzo settled next to Demyx on the couch. "It was… very kind of you all to come out today." The taste of smoke was welcome.

She raised her eyebrow. "Why? We're friends."

"It's… nice to remember that."

She patted Ienzo's hand. "So long as you had a good time."

"I… did."

"I don't know why you don't bring him around more," Aerith said to Demyx. The joint moved from each of them.

"It's not… Demyx's fault," Ienzo said. "These things take a certain strength from me. It's easier to keep myself busy with my work."

"You have nothing to worry about. You're very personable," she said. "But I understand."

He snorted. "Sure."

"It's true," she said.

"He's very polite. To everyone but me." Demyx nudged him.

"What can I say? Manners are the most obvious social skills." He exhaled smoke. "I don't think I have a conversational middle ground."

"I talk to the sick and wounded most of the day. I get it." The joint was done with; she stubbed it out.

"Hey, I do too," Demyx said.

"Compared to me you're still wet behind the ears."

Demyx barked a laugh.

"Oh," she said after a minute. "God. You two have had such weird lives."

Ienzo thought about it. Maybe it was the mixture of substances in his body, but he said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

They left soon afterwards, too tired to keep talking. He was feeling more high than drunk now, a welcome reprieve, and the night air felt almost like silk. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep; he couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed up this late (sans all nighters).

"I'm glad I married you," Demyx said.

Ienzo smirked. ""And I love everyone in this bar?""

He stopped, touching Ienzo's shoulder. "I mean it. I'm not drunk anymore. Well, not really."

"I'm glad too," he said softly.

"I couldn't imagine doing all this alone. At the bar, I was… hearing them all talk about the past, and how they always all had each other, and I realized how lonely I was for so long. I appreciate you so much."

Intoxicated or not, Ienzo could tell he meant it. He kissed Demyx, in the dark, in the street, and they let it go on more than they were normally wont to in public. Despite this, Ienzo was disappointed when he pulled away.

"Tomorrow," he said. "We probably shouldn't-while we're-"

"That's… practical." He took a deep breath. "Let's go home."