Someday

There was a sense that things had finally settled, finally calmed. Their days, though they were busy, found a sort of comfort. Time seemed to pass quickly, the weeks becoming months… becoming years. It seemed like Demyx blinked and turned twenty-five. He woke up with Ienzo's cold feet pressed against his calves. "...Do you have to," he mumbled.

"I can't help it. You're so warm. Like a furnace." He blinked slowly, like a cat. "Happy birthday."

"I'm old now," he said.

He scoffed a little. "Hardly. I'm afraid things are barely beginning." He pulled him close, spooning him.

"...Are you actually trying to cuddle, or are you just cold?"

"Does it matter?"

Demyx sighed heavily. "Come here. Bastard."


Demyx wasn't sure anything would ever be "easy." He carried the memories within him, and every now and again they would rise and wrap around him, like vines. He'd jolt awake, covered in sweat, convinced that this was it. But then he'd return to earth, usually with Ienzo there to console him, or vice versa. This was home; they were comfortable with each other, worn into one another like stones in a river. Demyx watched Ienzo bloom, coming into his own so slowly, until the shadow of pain faded from his eyes.

It was a slow, tedious process, this healing. Demyx guessed he too must be getting somewhere. He felt like less of a stranger than before, like the world was more real.

They worked for the committee in a sort of tandem; and then for the city council, once they were elected, when a real government started to form. The work seemed to suit Ienzo; the planning, and brainstorming, and to a degree the coding too. Demyx figured using those abilities made him feel more comfortable in himself. He felt that way too. Caring for people always had the opportunity to be harrowing, but with the bad came some good. The deaths and losses were accompanied with the new lives. Pain came with catharsis.

In their spare moments, they walked without a destination. "It's often hard to internalize how much time is passing," Ienzo admitted.

"How so?"

"Well-there's so much to do still. So much opportunity for growth, for betterment. Yet… for example, this morning before you woke I was looking out the apartment window. We've built so much. The face of the town itself has changed. I… almost forget how much work has gone into it."

"It's easier when it's work you like," Demyx said, with a wink.

"Much," he admitted. "It helps when I know all I'm doing will only make lives easier… rather than harder." He smiled a little. "I can see a sort of future, all of a sudden. Before there was merely noise."

"...I know what you mean," Demyx mumbled. "But we made it."

Ienzo squeezed his hand.


One of these mornings, Ienzo was brushing Beans, trying to curtail her seasonal shedding. "Getting chunky, aren't you?" he mumbled to her, and the cat meowed in response.

Demyx barely looked up from Arpeggio. "We're not double feeding her again, are we?"

"I don't think so. That's what the schedule is for. Chunky, chunky." Demyx could hear the cat purring. "Wait-" Ienzo began feeling at her stomach. Then, he laughed. "Come here."

Demyx set the sitar down and came over. "What?"

"Feel her belly."

Demyx did so. Sure enough, he could feel small little lumps inside of her. He laughed too. "Dilan did mention that there was a feral cat colony in the upper floors. I guess Beans found a boyfriend."

Beans swished her tail, irritated at all the poking and prodding, so they let go.

Ienzo sighed. "We're too young to be grandparents."

Over the next few weeks, she began building a nest in one of the rooms on the floor with stolen things-towels left to dry from their bathroom, the odd sock. One of these days she came up to Ienzo, meowed insistently, and led them to said room. In the nest were four tiny kittens. She climbed in with them and began grooming them. "I suppose I am her mother," Ienzo said, with a shake of the head. "Good job, girl."

She blinked.

They ended up naming these other kittens similarly; Peanut, Clover, Lentil, and Tamarind, based mostly on their coat colors. They would see Beans toting them around by their scruffs, tiny scratchy kitten mews. But eventually these kittens grew up, and only came around their floor to see their mother, give her a rub, before disappearing into the rest of the castle. Beans, however, seemed perfectly content to remain a housecat.

"She's got a pretty sweet gig," Demyx said, scratching her behind the ears. "Comfy bed, food without foraging. Two idiots to worship her. I wish I could be a cat."

Ienzo laughed.


This was their someday. Change was continuous and expected, but love remained constant. And while it didn't and couldn't solve anything, it was there to give them stability.

"What do you want from life?" Ienzo asked him one rainy morning. Beans was curled at their feet in bed, purring contentedly.

Demyx turned onto his side. In this light, the thin chain of Ienzo's scar was almost invisible. "Pretty deep question first thing in the morning."

"Humor me, then." He propped himself up on an elbow.

"I'm not… sure," he admitted. "I have everything I used to want." He touched Ienzo's cheek. "I'm kind of okay with letting things play out how they are."

"You know, I think I am too," Ienzo said. "All this aching and faffing about for a higher calling… maybe this is all life is. Quiet contentment. I have meaningful work to fill my days, I have you and my family. Truthfully, I don't need to ask for anything more than that." He leaned forward and kissed him. "Let's watch the world grow."


In all this, something odd and funny.

As Demyx grew closer to Even, he was asked now and again for his help with the man's research project, surreally enough. Even was investigating the long-term affects of darkness on the body, the mind; he thought darkness might be something of an addiction and impact them similarly. Demyx didn't particularly want to think about it too hard, but it was good that Even again driven. Demyx helped him look at minds with his magic, as they no longer had equipment. Dilan was often there too, helping with this research. And so was Ansem, in his own time, though he was working less on the scientific and more with the council.

Demyx noticed things.

He might not do reconnaissance anymore, but that seemed to be one part of him that never quite went away-he was always observational, he guessed. Even and Ansem interacted differently. Things had shifted. They ignored each other less when they were all together, sniped at each other less. There was less tension; rather, tension of a different kind. Ansem looked at him with such warmth, and once when he thought nobody was looking he rested a hand at the small of Even's back.

Oh.

Demyx actually had to excuse himself after he saw that. He went into the bathroom and laughed into his hands. He'd known the two men had been friends for longer than he'd been alive, that they'd raised Ienzo when he was little. It wasn't surprising at all. But it was hilarious that after outing Ienzo those years ago, Even had a secret of his own to keep.

"You're not going to believe this," Demyx said, one day after dinner.

"I believe a great many things," Ienzo said, without looking up from his computer.

"Have you been paying attention to how Even's been acting lately?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Should I? He seems much the same as ever. Keeping himself busy."

Demyx leaned over the couch. He wasn't sure why he was being conspiratorial in their own home. "I'm pretty sure he and Ansem have a thing going on."

Ienzo paused. "No," he said.

"Uh, yeah."

He scoffed a little. "How can you be sure?"

Demyx presented his evidence. Ienzo raised his eyebrows.

"Huh," he said. Then, "oh, this is going to be delicious. He gave me such hell for getting with you." He grinned widely. "Let me talk to him."

Sure enough, after some prodding Even admitted it was all true. Demyx was glad for them, but at the same time the thought of getting to needle an Even in love was too tempting. The next time he was asked to go down to the lab, he was ready to tease and cajole and be incredibly annoying.

If anything, Even seemed displeased to see him. He wrinkled his nose. "Apparently there are still some things that remain of the old you," he said. "Was it quite necessary to inform Ienzo of my personal life-without asking me first?"

Demyx laughed a little. "So it's true then?"

He turned a bit pink, but his expression was neutral. "As I said. I don't think it's any of your business."

"Why were you keeping it a secret?"

"As if I need to flaunt such things," he said, waving his hand dismissively and turning back to the work at hand. "I'll leave that to you two."

Demyx rolled his eyes. "Does it make you... happy?"

Even looked up, as if confused he would ask. "Happiness is relative, I think," he said. Then, "I believe it is... only suitable these things happen now. Ansem and I have put one another through hell. There was a lot to mend for anything else to be realized. There still is. But I suppose... life is... not quite as heavy as it once was. And that's as much as you'll get from me."

Demyx smiled a little. "Guess that officially makes you my dad too."

Even scowled. "Go on, then. We have a lot to do."

"Sure, dad."

"Boy-"


They became older; Radiant Garden grew from something somewhat haphazard into a real city. Demyx was no longer a trainee, or an apprentice, but a full-fledged healer. Ienzo worked on a little bit of everything, but was mostly engrossed in developing mental health support with the new government. It was no longer always so easy to get out of bed; he also needed glasses now. It was only when he realized the first baby he'd delivered was now in second grade that he was conscious of how much had really changed. His thirtieth birthday loomed on the horizon; Ienzo wasn't far behind.

The passion was still there, bright and intense and impossible to reckon with; after one of these nights they lay, holding one another. Demyx ran his fingers along Ienzo's throat, the scars that were no longer quite visible. "You remember that day I gave you a haircut, and you said that within seven years we'd have new bodies?"

"New cells. Yes." He blinked. "It… it's been that long?"

"Longer, actually."

"Every day still feels so new," he murmured. "Am I silly for feeling that way?"

"Not at all." He stroked Ienzo's hair. He'd finally caved a few years ago and cut the bangs short enough to show his full face, but other than that it was all the same. Demyx was fairly sure the gray was a bit fainter now, more white. "Can I ask you something?"

"We're beyond that, aren't we?"

"Depends." He took a breath. "I… I want to start a family." Ienzo opened his mouth, but Demyx forged forward. "When I help those people give birth, you know, it makes me feel…" He trailed off. "Things are… better than they were. I really think I could be a good…" He faltered on "dad."

Ienzo touched his face. "You'd be wonderful," he said softly.

"...But that's not something you want."

His expression was unreadable; Demyx began bracing himself for the hurt. "I've been… weighing the options," he admitted. "I'd be lying if I said I weren't terrified, but if anything, it's a… good sort of fear." He blinked. "I'm all in, Demyx."


There were only two options for them; adoption or surrogacy. Most of Radiant Garden's children were wanted, leaving them with the other. But why would someone go through the roughness of pregnancy for nothing? Demyx was on the verge of giving up when he got a phone call from Yuffie, asking him to go for a walk.

She hadn't changed much in the intervening years; she still did a lot of security detail, only now with the city government, not the committee. She was brash as ever. "Nice glasses. Nerd," she said when she saw him. "I bet this was your husband's idea?"

"Mine, because I need to see," he said. "Used to irritate the shit out of me when Cid complained about his eyes. But here we are. So what's up?"

"I can't catch up with my good friend Demyx?"

"You can. Though I don't know what's changed since drinks last Thursday."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on." They walked in the early spring air. The flowers were just starting to come into bloom. "So I'm going to just come out and say it."

He had no idea where this was going. "Okay?"

"I know you and Ienzo want to have a baby. I also know that because people are having responsible sex or whatever that there aren't a whole lot of extras hanging around. I'm healthy, I have a functioning uterus. I'd love to be the weird aunt to your nerd baby."

He stopped in his tracks. "Sorry-am I hearing this right?"

She'd turned pink. "Make me say it again and I'll kill you."

Demyx blinked. He was on good terms with Yuffie, but they weren't that close. "You'd do that for me?"

She exhaled heavily. "You two are good people," she said, with a shrug. "Whatever kid you had, you'd love the crap out of them. I didn't get that when I was a kid, and I don't think you did either. Plus… I always kinda wanted to be pregnant, but without the responsibility. Weird shit happening to my body? An excuse to eat as much as I want and be a total bitch? Could be worse."

He turned to face her. "It's a lot to ask of you."

"Well I'm offering." She crossed her arms. "I mean, the way you and Aerith do things, it's basically painless anyway."

"But not easy. It'd interfere with your work."

She shrugged. "You know the council kisses committee ass. They'd find something for me." She squeezed his hand. "Talk to him about it. This thing? Has a vacancy sign on it." She pointed to her stomach. "I'll be around. Let me know." She winked and wandered off.


"...Wow," Ienzo said, once Demyx had told him the story.

"Yeah. That's what I said."

He set his phone down. "Should we do it?"

"She's offering. Pretty insistently. It wouldn't be… hers, anyway."

"Only by about one percent," Ienzo said. "Mitochondrial DNA. It's unavoidable."

"...So we'd both jerk off into a dish, put it in her, and nine months later there's baby?"

He groaned. "It's a bit more complicated than that. She'd have to take hormones, to stimulate egg growth, then once those are harvested we'd have to exchange her DNA for one of ours, then fertilize the egg, implant it, and then , if you're lucky, there's baby."

Demyx blinked. "...You have been looking into this."

He shook his head. "It's either this or trying to make some sort of replica." He took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. "There's a… slim chance we might not be able to conceive regardless."

Demyx sat down. "What do you mean?"

"Nobodies are sterile," he said slowly. "We know this from our studies. Not just biological males-Larxene, too, did not have a period or ovulate. I was one for twelve years , Demyx, through puberty."

"So then you can go in the egg and I'll do the rest."

"You were one too." He exhaled. "Thankfully we can test for these things. But… even if somehow we're fertile… it's a long shot."

Demyx took a deep breath. "We've beaten bad odds before," he said slowly. "Let's see what happens."

Ienzo ended up being half right; upon further examination of their… DNA, they found that he was, more or less, completely sterile. "...Shooting blanks," he muttered, in a moment of unusual crassness. "The more work I put into this, the more I wanted it, and here we are."

He squeezed his shoulders. "But if it's just you we can still make this work. And me?"

"You have a count, but it's not great. Not ideal or even passable. Before we put Yuffie through the misery of all those shots, perhaps we should… reconsider. Maybe it's not meant to be at this moment in time."

Demyx sat down heavily on one of the stools in the lab.

"I'm sorry, love. I know how much this means to you."

"No… you're right, we shouldn't force what isn't meant to be."

He took his hand. "There may still be the off chance for adoption. We merely need to… wait for the right opportunity."

He nodded slowly, treading heartbreak. "Yeah. Sure. That."


He was trying to get to work when Even stopped him. "Again your DNA taunts me," he spat.

Demyx raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He softened a little. "I've heard of your… desire, for a child. I've worked with bodies for years, boy. Why didn't one of you come to me?"

He blinked. "Well, Ienzo figured-"

"Does Ienzo have my increasingly specific skillset when it comes to molding genetic information?"

Despite himself, a spark of hope. "...No."


It took time, but eventually it did happen. Even never revealed exactly how he did it-he claimed that his research wouldn't be released until he died, "and I do not intend to do that for many years yet"-but he made the embryo, the one that might maybe be a human, and combined with Yuffie's strange fascination that she "grow a baby" for them, it went from something that was a vague dream to a real, tangible fact.

She sat on the couch in their living room. "I gave it five days," she said. "Nothing. Nada. No blood. Just test my pee."

"That's not how we look for pregnancy," he said. His heart was starting to race.

"Well then, doc, do what you have to. The anticipation is killing me."

"Not a doctor."

"Shut up. You're basically a doctor."

He held his hand over her stomach, searching, sensing, only to feel a weak, but very present, beginning of a new life.

"...Oh god. You're crying. I lost it, didn't I? I'm sorry."

He wiped at his eyes. "You didn't lose anything," he said. "You're pregnant."

She screamed. "You're going to be a dad!"


None of them breathed until she passed the twelve week mark; even then Demyx lived in a state of anxiety. Ienzo fussed over everything from names to what sort of detergent they might use on the baby's linens. But it was no longer an impossibility; before long they could see it, and even feel it move.

While Yuffie took immaculate care of it with an almost uncomfortable enthusiasm, getting used to having her around was… something of an adjustment. "I make an entrance now," she said, flopping onto the couch. "Ba-bam, here she is. Belly first. I trip over everything."

"The human pregnancy is technically aerodynamically impossible," Ienzo said. "I think a loss of grace is not uncalled for."

"People keep asking me who the dad is. I think my favorite way to respond so far is to say I'm not actually pregnant." She rubbed her hand absently over the mound. "It's really active. I think it likes the sound of your voice."

He turned pink.

"Come here. Feel the baby," she said in a weird voice. She took Ienzo's palm and laid it on her bump. "It knows who you are."

He blinked. Demyx expected him to say something like, "well it can't know anything, it's just a fetus," but instead he said, "I should hope so. The lengths we went to to get it here."

She laughed.

For the first time in a long while life felt a little weird, a little performative, especially as the pregnancy only progressed. Demyx could feel his and Ienzo's dynamic slowly shifting. They were no longer just a married couple, and wouldn't always be able to just do whatever they wanted. Soon there would be a responsibility. It changed the way they interfaced, especially because they didn't agree on anything when it came to raising the child. They squabbled over things like how to educate it, whether to feed it formula or breastmilk, and more intensely, how they would one day explain their pasts to it.

Yuffie had her own opinions on this. She stroked the bump absently. "Well, you shouldn't lie to them," she said, adjusting her swollen ankles a little on the ottoman. "Not the way people lied to you two, right? I think you should… keep it simple, at least until they're old enough to understand. If they're your kid, they're going to be smart. Yeah. Simplicity, and vagueness. Aerith's having the same problem with her daughter. How do you explain darkness? The Fall? But kids… hear things. And with all this lying around?" She gestured to the bookshelf closest to her, which happened to contain some of Ienzo's research. "Once it learns to read it's all out the window."

Ienzo sighed heavily. "I… I don't want them to feel unsafe, though, and learning these things might make that happen."

She shook her head. "As long as you love them, and are present with them, and are kind , I think they can accept it with a grain of salt."

Demyx gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Like you did with Ansem and Even."

He nodded slowly. "You're right."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Well. Glad to know you care so much, and I'm not doing all this for nothing."


They spent time, the three of them, putting together the nursery in the room next door. Kids seemed to need so much stuff , clothes and pacifiers and bottles and so many other little things. Ienzo would spend hours reorganizing everything, and Demyx kept cleaning and cleaning. It was an old space; it got dusty quickly. Wasn't that a bad thing? It seemed like everything he'd learned about the human body seemed to go out the window.

"This is why I don't self-treat, or heal my loved ones," Aerith said. Her daughter kept flipping through the heavy cardboard page of her picture book, holding it up to them and saying "Look! Blue!" "I know, sweetie," she added, patiently. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Demyx laughed a little. "Yes. I'm sure."

"I'm surprised as you about Yuffie," she said. "I've known her for years and I can't pretend to understand what goes through that woman's head. Vincent's been trying to get her to settle down. I wonder if this is something of a test run for her. To see if she can handle being a mom."

Demyx thought about it. His niece handed him the book. "Blue," she said. "I know!" He said to her. "What other colors do you see?"

This question seemed to blow her mind; she looked at the book. "Red?"

"On the next page, maybe." He turned back to Aerith. "That… kinda makes sense. It did seem out of the blue, even for her. We thought she was… a little too into it."

"She talks a tough game," Aerith said. "But she's… honestly, she just wants to love and be loved."

"I can relate." The little girl approached him and held up her arms, wanting to be picked up. Demyx obliged. "I think this is part of what started me thinking, you know?"

"Me being a mom?"

"Yeah. Being the babysitter."

She picked up a cloth and wiped at something on the toddler's face. "You've got a very nurturing personality," she said. "It's only natural, to want kids." She smirked a little. "You've got about three weeks of freedom left. If you do anything, sleep. " Her eyes became serious. "For the love of god."


The weeks seemed to pass quickly. They all waited for the labor anxiously, especially Yuffie herself, not that Demyx could blame her. If he could take her discomfort for her, he would; all he could offer was some palliative care. She stayed with them, the last month or so, rather than do the long walk a few times a day. She tried to be in good spirits, but Demyx could tell this was wearing on her; she'd been unusually quiet, when before she chattered for hours on end about nothing much. "I can't wait to, like, not be peeing every ten minutes," she said. "God. It's going to be so good. And sleep! I don't think I've slept more than a few hours a night since November."

It was rainy that day, and hot; February was always something of a nightmare. Ienzo was off at a city council meeting; Demyx was home under the guise of making medicine, but really he was trying to keep an eye on Yuffie, who was completely reticent, lying on the couch and staring into the middle distance. "...You doing okay?" he asked her. "I can get you another ice pack."

"I feel… weird," she said slowly.

Demyx tried to keep his face impassive. "Weird how?"

"I don't know, just… weird. Heavy. More than normal."

He went over to her and checked her vitals. Her temperature was a little high, but no more than an at-term person in the dead of summer. "Any pain?"

She thought about it, her eyes glassy. "I'm not sure."

"Can I touch the baby?" he asked.

"Sure," she said wearily.

He rested his hand on the bump, trying to sense it. He could tell without prodding much at all what was actually going on. He swallowed, feeling a little dizzy. "So you're in labor," he said.

"For real?" she ran a hand through her hair. "I thought it would hurt a lot more."

"The heavy feeling could be contractions. How long have you felt like that?"

She blinked. "I don't know, since last night, maybe?"

Nerves fluttered inside of him. "Since last night ?"

"Well I don't know how it's supposed to feel!" She sat up a little.

Demyx squeezed her hand. "I'm going to make a few calls, okay?" His hands were shaking; he didn't trust himself to text. "You just lay down for a few minutes." It was hard to be both a healer and an anxious parent. He tried to get himself under control. Ienzo answered at the first ring.

"It's now," Ienzo said, without prelude.

"Yeah."

"I'm coming." He heard papers shuffling. "Time for things to change."

It was an easy birth, almost startlingly fast, actually. They kept her in as little pain as possible; their daughter was born just after four in the afternoon, small but otherwise healthy. Holding her for the first time overwhelmed him, and he cried ceaselessly for some time.

"She's got your hair, look," Ienzo said, running his hand oh-so-gently over her skull, a soft brown tuft. "I was hoping."

Yuffie turned onto her side, flinching a little. "You know I didn't even imagine what she would look like," she said. "She was just, like, a question mark."

"You okay?" Demyx asked, through tears. He passed the baby gently to Ienzo.

"I'm actually fine," she said. "I can tell I'm going to be sore-but honestly that wasn't so bad. I was expecting, like—"

"Screaming? Hair tearing out? Squeezing someone's hand until it breaks?" He tried to dry his eyes. Ienzo had drawn the baby close, his eyes shut tight.

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "But it was like, a little pull, oops there it is."

"I don't even know how to begin thanking you—"

"It's not exactly over," she said dryly. "There's still… the matter of this." She patted one of her breasts. "But I… I wanted to see if I could do it. In case I… wanted to have one that's really mine, you know? My boyfriend… really wants it."

So Aerith had been right. "You didn't think you could handle pregnancy?"

"That's not it." She shook her head. "The idea of… helping bring a life into the world, and then having to let it go. I wasn't sure I could do it."

"But it'd be your baby," Demyx pointed out.

Yuffie smiled. "Mine to take care of. But in the end, they're their own person, you know?"

"And how did this answer your hypothesis?" Ienzo asked softly. He was also teary.

"Well… if it makes us as happy as it makes you two… then maybe it isn't a complete waste of time. Could I hold the bugger? Nine months in me and I haven't even seen her face."

Ienzo hesitated, holding her a little more tightly, before handing the baby to her. "Sorry you ended up with neurotic squares. But they'll love you." Yuffie touched her cheek. "Someday I'll teach you how to make their lives hell."


There was a fullness to their lives that there hadn't been before. While they were exhausted, with the feedings and the fussiness, Demyx knew they had done the right thing. It felt natural , comfortable.

"She needs a name," Ienzo said, coaxing the bottle into her mouth. "I thought the one we'd picked was it, but…"

"Seeing her changed your mind."

"...Precisely."

Her eyes were open, newborn blue and unfocused. She ate like she wasn't quite sure what it was. Demyx took one of her tiny hands and felt it close around his finger. "What if…"

He looked at him. "What?"

"What if we named her after your mom? Isn't that a… tradition, here?"

Ienzo blinked a little. "I suppose…" He thought about it a moment, then nodded. "Well that's the one, isn't it. Chiara. It fits." He sighed. "You named the cat and our daughter. The next one's mine."

"The next one?" Demyx smirked. "We barely got this one."

"I'm thinking ahead." He smiled. "Who knows what the world has in store?"


It was a pleasure, to see her grow; even once they returned to their work, they had a slew of babysitters. Even put up a front of unwillingness, but Demyx knew he doted on her. "I feel I owe you that much," he said, to Ienzo. "Goodness knows you two must need some time for yourselves. I think we'll be alright, won't we?" He addressed Chiara. She put her hand right on his nose.

"The bag should have everything you need," Ienzo said anxiously. "And you'll call me, if—?"

Even raised an eyebrow. "I have done this before, you know. And she returned with her head still attached, did she not?"

Chiara burped and smiled.

"Goodness, I do hope you don't inherit your fathers' anxiety. Off we go."

Demyx rested his hand on Ienzo's waist. "He loves it," he said.

"He and Ansem are certainly vying for her heart. Little do they know that Moosie is number one to her." Noticing the offending stuffed animal still sitting on the dresser, he swore. "Goodness. I should bring this to them-she'll get upset if she notices it missing—"

Demyx took the stuffed animal out of his hand. "She'll be okay," he said. "Why don't you spend some time with me, hm? Like adults?"

Ienzo nodded, reddening a little. "I can do that."


"Daddy?"

Demyx stirred weakly. He turned on the lamp at bedside. There she was, at his bedside, thumb in mouth, bedraggled, half-rotting Moosie in one hand. "What is it, baby?"

Chiara hiccupped. "I had a bad dream."

He picked her up. She was getting so big , so heavy. He settled her between them.

"What happened, love?" Ienzo asked, smoothing a strand of hair from her face.

"Dream about ghosts." She sobbed a little. "They go boo."

Ienzo and Demyx exchanged a glance. "What kind of ghosts?" Ienzo asked.

"Dark. Like." She lifted her hands above her head and hissed. "Grandpa telling me about them?"

Something like anger flickered across Ienzo's face before he was able to control it. "What did he say?"

"I was… playing," she said, sniffling. "I goed… downstairs. He said I can't goed down there because—people are sleeping." She held a finger to her lips. "Shh. But I…" She tapped her head. "I seed them."

"Do you see them still?" Demyx asked gently.

Chiara shook her head. "No. That's why I'm sad. They were my friends. They play with me when I sleep. They say… hello. And manners."

Ienzo blinked. "You mean "thank you"?"

She nodded. "They said tell daddy thank you. They say we sleep now. Shh." She started to cry.

"Shh," Demyx said gently. "It's okay. You have to say goodbye sometimes. It's okay that it hurts."


Chiara got along well with Aerith's daughter; they were both feisty, adventurous. More than once she slipped away, to explore the castle, much to Demyx and Ienzo's horror. Even seemed to find this endlessly amusing.

"Now you're getting a taste of your own medicine," he said, once they had found the bedraggled child. "Not so fun that you're on the other side, is it?"

For a moment they watched her sleep, wan and exhausted, before returning to their bedroom. There was an odd look on Ienzo's face. Very slowly, he took off his glasses and lay back. "That's right, isn't it?"

"What is?"

He laughed a little to himself. "She's the same age I was when I first came here."

"It's all going so quick. They said it would, but-"

"I know." He groaned a little. "She's too much like us."

"I don't know what you were expecting." He took Ienzo's hand, ran his finger over the smooth metal of his wedding ring. "But she's… getting a more normal childhood than we ever did."

"There's certainly no shortage of love," Ienzo admitted. "For that, I'm eternally grateful." Aeleus and Dilan both, in their own ways, also doted on her. "Would you ever… want another?"

Demyx considered it. "I'm not sure," he said. "When you look at it logistically…"

"Aside from that."

"If there's a chance, then maybe," he said, with a shrug. "But I'm happy with just her."

"I am too."


Chiara was bright, much like Ienzo; but people came easily to her, like Demyx. After much debate, they sent her to public school, much to the chagrin of everyone else; but they could teach her whatever else she may want to learn. She couldn't grow up isolated. To let her go and get something like their lives back was difficult. They were able to find one another again. They were closer to middle aged, now, rather than young. He knew it would happen. It still felt strange. He was shaving one morning when he saw it. "Ienzo," Demyx said. "Come here."

"Something the matter?"

He could barely contain the laughter. "Look." He lifted the part of his hair gently, revealing the strands of gray.

Ienzo touched it. "It must be starting early, for you. After all the stress you've gone through in your life, it's not surprising."

"We really aren't young anymore, are we?"

"As though these things last forever? We've still got more than half our lives left."

"...Huh." He brushed his hair back into place. The style was less radical and more functional than it had been in the past; gone were the days of the shorn scalp, the gel. His younger self would probably find him infinitely boring, he realized.

He was okay with that.

Ienzo kissed him softly. "I rather like the idea of you being a silver fox."


So that's really it, then.

In his rare moments of alone time, he composes. His style has changed considerably, away from the technically difficult and more towards lightness, subtlety, expression of emotion rather than skill. He writes a sort of memoir, with these compositions; more for his daughter, and maybe her eventual children, than himself. It's a sort of project that takes years, years of stolen minutes and endless editing. He leaves a copy of it, quietly, in the archives, on the internet.

She's almost grown up when she finds it.

"...Dad?"

He's at work, up to his elbows in medicine. "What's up, sweetie?" She has his coloring, but she looks so like Ienzo; small, delicate. She moves like him, too, using her hands when she speaks.

"You busy?" She nods her head towards the door. "I'll get lunch. You keep forgetting yours at home. It makes Father so mad." She chose how to refer to them herself.

They walk for a while, get lunch at some cafe.

"I was studying for my entrance exams," she begins. College around the corner at the fledgling university (how?). She still isn't sure if she wants to pursue the arts or the sciences. "Researching folk ballads for this essay I want to write. You… left something in the library. For me."

"...Yeah."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Because…" Any number of reasons. "Well, for a long time it wasn't done. You know your dad and I… went through a lot. I didn't want you to find it until you were ready. Old enough to understand."

"I'm not a little kid anymore," she says, so earnestly it makes him laugh. "I… I want to know how I came to be. Not just the Aunt Yuffie story, the… rest of it. The history of my existence."

Demyx can hear both his husband and himself in her words. He takes her hand, gives it a squeeze. "Let's play it through together."

And they do.

She has so many questions, not just for them but for Even and Ansem, Aeleus and Dilan. Hearing about the way they suffered, the way they made suffering, makes her cry, but she doesn't see them as at fault, not in a way that makes her love them less. The knowledge changes her. She says it gives her a deeper insight on how to help people.

She goes off to college-lives with friends in an apartment. She grows up.

And they move on. For some reason only then does it feel right for them to move from the castle, to a small home in town. They bring with them their memories, the great-great-grandson of the cat Beans. They have over their friends, their family; one day their daughter brings along a young woman who will become her wife.

When the time comes-and it does, it's inevitable-they pass away gently, quietly, and against all odds, together. Demyx knows it will hurt her, her children, but he also knows this is the way things must be. They've both left their legacies behind, full of healing, of progress, of goodness.

So their story ends, and they sleep peacefully. She visits their memorials, teaches her children about her namesake, about what her family did and how they then atoned. The city government reopens the castle to the public, restores it to something resembling its former glory. Again, it becomes a place of learning, but they never do forget the ills they are capable of.

For the last time, Chiara stands in the rooms where she was raised, where one of her fathers played endless songs for her, the other reading to her infinite stories, both teaching her all she needs to know, stories she hopes to hand down. Rooms now empty, rooms now for someone else. Her wife takes her gently by the elbow, leads her away.

And they begin their life anew.