"Crying again? Really, Lea, it's astounding how weak you can be…"

Axel knew exactly who had barged into his room uninvited the moment he heard the hiss of his door sliding open. He should have anticipated the man's arrival, and now regretted his failure to lock the door before climbing into bed. For the eighth night in a row, he returned home from his mission, skipped dinner, and crawled under the sheets to cry himself to sleep. He couldn't even look at Saïx anymore, and avoided him at all costs. To think the man had the audacity to pay him a visit now, of all times, made Axel's blood boil. He sat up and whipped around to face him, barely containing his anger.

"Crying isn't weak, Isa! Running away from it is!"

Saïx scoffed, folding his arms. "Don't be a fool. You have no heart. These tears are just a falsehood… the cruel torments of your memories, playing tricks on you."

Axel narrowed his eyes, incredulous that someone who used to be his best friend could be so insensitive. "Well, I'm glad to know you've moved on so quickly. Now get out of my room."

He rolled back over and pulled the blankets over himself, refusing to continue their conversation. He'd rather have spoken to a brick wall than spend another pointless hour talking in circles with Saïx. That was all they could ever do now — argue until they were out of breath. Ordinarily, he would be sad to have lost someone so precious, but for the moment, he could only feel relieved that he didn't have to try anymore. It was a wonder they had ever functioned as a pair, seeing how incompatible they were now.

Minutes passed, and he hadn't heard Saïx leave. He turned to see his old friend still standing there, staring at him with an unrecognizable expression. In a way, it scared Axel to see him, frozen and glaring with those stranger's eyes. His expression was so sinister, almost menacing. Axel shifted in place, wincing as the mattress creaked loudly with his movements.

"Isa… what are you doing?"

Saïx was coming toward him, his face breaking into a haunting smile. "Fear not, Lea. I have a solution that will dry your tears for good."

There was a shimmering blue light radiating from his hands. Sparks flew from his knuckles as, back and forth, his fingers curled into tight fists, then flexed as wide as they could reach. Axel tried to back away, quickly pausing when he nearly fell off the bed. Saïx's eyes had turned a solid, glowing yellow. His terrifying smile bared a set of long fangs. Axel stumbled out of bed, trying to plan an escape, but was only able to watch in horror as the man transformed into a savage, frightening beast.

"No! Isa, please! Don't!"

Axel held his breath as Saïx threw the magic spell directly at his head, hitting him square in the face with a loud crack. He squealed and buried his face in his hands, brushing frantically at the skin to wipe away the sudden sensation of a scalding burn or an electric shock. There was a nauseating smell of smoke and fumes, though he couldn't tell where it was coming from. After a moment, the pain began to dull and everything went slightly numb. His previously watery eyes dried up until they stung. The tracks where his tears had run down his cheeks were now burning, as if those tears had been boiling hot. He gently pressed his fingers into his flesh, but he couldn't feel anything out of place. Horrified, he looked up at Saïx, demanding an explanation from him.

"What did you do?!"

Saïx nodded and flashed him a satisfied grin. "I made you stronger," he turned and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Lea."

The very instant Saïx had left the room, Axel dashed to the mirror to see the damage. At first, he was relieved to find that he didn't gain yellow eyes, pointed ears, or a grisly scar. But what he found instead was a bewildering set of matching symbols on each cheek. He leaned in, inspecting the new purple marks under his eyes, shaped like upside-down tears. They seemed to be stamped into his skin, almost like ink, but he couldn't wipe them off no matter how hard he scrubbed, and they didn't wash away no matter how much soap he used. They were permanent. Axel didn't have to wonder why Saïx had painted the marks on his face like some sort of clown. The man vowed to dry his tears for good, and this spell must have been intended for that purpose. In a way, Axel figured he ought to feel grateful that he'd never have to cry again, and for such a small price. Perhaps now, he'd find some peace in letting go of the past and moving forward with what he still had.

As he lay in bed, alone with his thoughts, he could still feel the dampness in his pillow from earlier — the last tears he would ever cry. He waited for the warm embrace of sleep to take him, to save him from that lingering ache of loss. But, to his dismay, sleep never came to him. Still awake, still awash in grief and sorrow, but now lacking the ability to experience the necessary release of crying, Axel came to the staggering realization of just what he had lost. He thought Saïx had freed him from mourning, from sorrow and from pain. But, in an act of unmatched cruelty, Saïx had done the exact opposite. He had trapped Axel in his own anguish, robbing him of his only method to cope. With one wave of his hand, he had doomed Axel to an eternity of locking away his pain, nursing his wounds in silence, and with no hope of relief in sight.

Axel clutched the wet pillow close to his face, pressing those remaining tears against his cheek. He wished for nothing more than to weep for his own sake, to collapse into a fit of sobs until it hurt to breathe. He longed for one last opportunity to cry himself to sleep, to truly feel the agony of this new loss. But, finally as numb and empty as a Nobody ought to be, he could only rest there, wide awake as the damp patch dried up, and that last pool of tears slowly evaporated from existence.

"Alright, Axel… How's it feel?"

Axel rotated his arm in every direction multiple times, turning and twisting the joint to its absolute limits before letting it fall to his side again. "Stiff," he answered. "But better. I can work with it."

Satisfied, Zexion nodded and took down a few notes. "Ice it before you go to sleep, and once more when you wake up. Your shift is first thing in the morning?"

Axel couldn't help but smirk in response. "Hope Xigbar will be patient with me."

Apparently having missed the joke, Zexion only lowered his eyes as he adjusted the bandages around Axel's healing joints. He'd been quiet for most of the examination, which came as no surprise. The news about Vexen's situation shook the Organization as a whole, but none more so than Zexion, and it was no great secret that this new update had stuck in his mind. Axel sympathized greatly, but for the moment he wasn't sure which would be the right words to say to him.

"You worried?"

"Of course not," Zexion answered flatly, collecting his instruments and strolling around the lab to put them away. "You're all set, Axel. Take it easy for the night and come back if it bothers you again."

"Zexion, wait."

The apprentice froze in his tracks, avoiding eye contact with his comrade, but quite clearly still listening. Axel wrung his hands for a moment, hesitating with his plea. "If anything happens to Roxas while I'm gone…"

Zexion turned to him with a solemn expression, acknowledging his unfinished request in a quiet and understanding tone. "I'll take good care of him."

Axel smiled. "Thanks."

It was getting late. The castle was almost depressingly empty as the search teams worked in double shifts, all hours of the day and night. It wasn't a new experience to traverse the halls in such heavy silence, but there was something different about this sense of quiet that permeated their home. It gave Axel chills, as if he were walking through a still, grayscale painting.

He should have gone to bed, but he was much too agitated to sleep. He'd not heard much from Roxas since the Agrabah mission, and couldn't decide whether it was a smart move or a dumb one to avoid the kid now. He knew Roxas was angry. Roxas had every right to be angry, and he showed a generous amount of patience, given the circumstances. Axel wished he had the courage to go and face him now, but wouldn't have known what to say. The last thing he wanted to do was make anything worse. Not when he might have had so little time left. Axel swallowed hard, biting back a sudden clench in the back of his throat, grimacing at a sourness in his mouth.

However, that same hesitation didn't seem to apply to his standing with Saïx. Though the man was equally distant, with the space between them growing wider every minute, Axel had no trouble pursuing him. He'd chased the man all over the castle for days, only to be met with rejection at every avenue. But he was no stranger to Saïx's cold shoulder, and the sting of his spurning had dulled considerably by comparison to that of Roxas'. Rather than wallow in sadness and self-pity, Axel made room for some anger of his own. Every door slammed in his face stoked the fire of his frustrations, and he wasn't about to hang his head and surrender a second time while the coals were still hot. If Saïx wanted to push him away, he was going to have to try harder than that.

Axel stuck out his chin and marched right to Saïx's bedroom door and knocked as loudly as was permissible within the limits of being polite. There was no response. Several more unanswered knocks led him to open the door and find the room completely empty. Neither could the man be found in the Grey Area, nor Addled Impasse. A thorough scan of every common area in the castle turned up no results, until Axel reached the Hall of Empty Melodies. To his delight, Saïx was there, training with his claymore on a series of ceramic jars, shirtless.

It was a truly breathtaking sight, and Axel could have just stood in the doorway and watched as the man's glistening physique flexed with every swing of his weapon, but he knew that he'd be noticed sooner or later, and he had sought Saïx out for other reasons than to ogle at him. "Well, that's just not fair."

Saïx turned at the sound of Axel's voice, catching his breath. The way he stood idle for a moment, lowering his weapon and shooting his guest a well-practiced smolder — he almost appeared to be striking a pose. Axel swooned so hard he nearly lost his balance and leaned heavily into the door frame to recover. Following his eyes, Saïx glanced down at himself, raising his eyebrow and almost smirking. "You could look like this too, if you used a heavier weapon."

Axel laughed as he sauntered toward his chiseled comrade with an exaggerated sway of his hips. "Yeah, and then I'd have a perpetually sore wrist, too."

"Hmph," Saïx scoffed, closing the gap between them. "Not if I had anything to say about it."

The two were practically nose to nose. Axel could see every bead of sweat shimmering on Saïx's chest, every blue hair on his head that had fallen out of place. Every tense muscle that hadn't yet relaxed, every vein that swelled beneath his flushed skin. He lost track of the seconds he spent just staring, watching the man's breaths gradually slow to a normal pace. For what he gained as a consolation prize, this first match — the test of his composure — was one that Axel was glad to have lost.

"Welp, now I'm hard," he said, grinning as he admitted defeat. "This is awkward."

"I'm not in the mood," Saïx broke the stand-off, readied his claymore and swung at a few more pots. "What do you want, Lea?"

"I wanted to talk."

The man only glanced at him briefly before returning to his training. "Alright. I'm listening."

"You've been avoiding me."

Without acknowledging him, Saïx conjured up another set of clay jars and practiced a different attack. After a long pause, he finally responded to the accusation with a flat tone and expressionless face, putting up the same front that Axel thought he had learned to puncture through. "I've been busy."

"Give me a break, Isa. You know I can see right through you. Just be straight with me and tell me what's going on."

Saïx continued to train without looking at him, and Axel decided enough was enough. Seeing that words wouldn't get through, he tried a more drastic approach. In as grandiose a manner as possible, he dragged down the zipper of his own coat. When he had gained Saïx's attention, he let it fall off his shoulders and into a heap at his feet before summoning his chakrams with a flourish. Just for show, he cast a ribbon of flames which danced around him for a few seconds before burning out. With his message delivered, he opened his stance and waited for his opponent to respond.

Saïx shook his head, sticking his claymore into the ground and refusing his invitation to spar. "Come on, Lea, not with your injuries…"

Axel paid no heed to his rejection and tossed a flaming chakram directly at him without warning. Saïx reacted quickly and without even flinching. He swiftly raised his claymore and blocked the attack with ease, much to Axel's chagrin. Axel recalled the weapon and took a few challenging steps in his direction, daring him to decline again. After several seconds of staring daggers in silence, Saïx finally relented with a sigh. "Alright, fine. Come at me."

Axel's shoulder was still stiff, but he managed pretty well despite the handicap. He lunged at Saïx with a sweeping draw of his chakrams, to which Saïx parried and swiped at him from behind. He dodged with a flying leap, taking aim and tossing a chakram from the air. Saïx blocked again, waiting for Axel to come down before rushing at him with his claymore at the ready. They became a tangled knot of clashing weapons, thrashing bodies and flailing limbs, fighting such an even match that it could have been choreographed. The battle was exhilarating for both of them, each man flashing a competitive grin with every blow they managed to land. They hadn't trained together since they were kids, fooling around with weapons that were too big and too heavy, performing extravagant stunts that had more than once resulted in grisly injuries for the both of them. As just a couple of rowdy boys, it was some of the most fun they could have had without hearts, and many times they weathered the broken bones and relentless scolding with smiles on their faces, just glad to have experienced the thrill of the fight together. Now, as adults, they revisited those moments — those memories — in perfect harmony with one another, playing their game with just as much reckless abandon as the wild teens they used to be.

Saïx swung his weapon low and sent a shock wave rippling over the floor around him. Axel jumped into another aerial cartwheel, executing an impressive blind throw of his chakrams behind his own back. Momentarily stunned, Saïx watched with admiration as his garish adversary soared gracefully above him and effortlessly stuck his landing before catching his weapons like a pair of boomerangs. He was just preparing another attack when, without warning, Axel staggered slightly to the side, unsteady on his feet. He clutched at his shoulder, wincing and doubling over as his chakrams clattered to the ground.

"Lea!" Saïx raced to his side, bending down to examine his injury. As soon as he was close enough, Axel whipped around and landed a heavy blow from behind, knocking Saïx on his back. With his opponent subdued, Axel climbed over the top of his torso and straddled him, chakrams crossed at his throat. "Now, talk."

He cast a circle of flames around the pair to emphasize his frustration and make his point clear. Saïx, breathless, narrowed his eyes at him, barely managing to spit out his response as his chest heaved under Axel's weight. "That's cheating."

"And what did you learn?"

Saïx propped himself up on his elbows as Axel dismissed his weapons and climbed off of him, maintaining his stern glare until the man finally spoke up. "Lea, what are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we trying this again?"

Axel hesitated, scratching his head in thought. "I don't know. Do you want to?"

"I'm not sure."

He offered Saïx a hand up, pulling him back to his feet. At last, he'd got the man talking, and it was exactly the subject he'd hoped they might discuss. But, to his dismay, the answers were not as clear as they should have been. The two were still walking through their memories, hopelessly lost, watching with melancholy as their younger selves would spar and laugh for hours on end. The two would be sent on missions together, always competing over how many targets they'd each slain. It never mattered, as they could always look forward to that satisfying warmth of their fingers tangling together after the weapons were laid down and they returned home, hand in hand. They lingered in that time, remembering how they would sneak away to the clock tower just in time to catch the sunset. Sometimes, Axel would be so engrossed by the view that his ice cream would begin to melt, and rather than warn him about the droplets running over his knuckles, Saïx would simply lean over and steal a bite. Most times, Axel would jokingly threaten to shove him off the ledge, and in turn, he was always met with the perfect response — one that would never get old.

If I go down, I'm taking you with me.

Saïx had been pacing the floor for a few moments with his arms crossed as he reminisced alongside his partner. After a while, he spoke up again, sounding almost hopeful. "Is that what you want?"

"Honestly," Axel sighed, shaking his head as the pleasant images began to fade. "I don't really know either."

It was a safe answer, but not necessarily the right one. Those sweet, indulgent days were too few, and the trip down memory lane came to an abrupt halt at the very moment they'd fallen out. Axel had done his time wondering what really happened, examining his own mistakes and living with the repercussions. But despite the passage of time, he found that the wounds didn't hurt any less than they had all those years ago. For the two of them to reunite would risk the reopening of those very wounds, and Axel figured he wasn't alone in his hesitant and somewhat doubtful approach. He looked to Saïx, expecting to be met with the man's signature emotionless logic, but instead was shocked by the sight of his face falling and his eyes downcast.

"Then, we probably shouldn't."

Saïx hurried to the other end of the room to retrieve his coat, but Axel stopped him with a hand on his arm, gently coaxing him back around to face him. "Isa… What would be the difference either way?" he asked persuasively. "If we decided we wanted to go that route, what would change? Would we share a room? Hold hands? Pick out curtains together? You want me to have your babies?"

Annoyed, Saïx brushed him off and continued his trek. "There you go again. It's all just a joke to you."

Axel caught him by the wrist, appealing to him in an apologetic but pleading tone. "No, Isa, it isn't. It never was."

Having no more patience for Axel's games, Saïx wrestled out of his grip and put some distance between them, crossing his arms again and barely concealing his anger. "I don't see why we're even having this conversation. We don't have hearts. We can't love anything or anyone. We're just warm bodies, the occasional empty fuck and nothing more."

Axel winced at the sting of his remarks. "Is that really all you see in me now?"

Axel could tell his question had affected the man the very moment the words passed his lips. Saïx was not facing him, and at first Axel only saw his frame clench with a sharp intake of breath. Several seconds passed without a sound while he stood completely rigid, scarcely moving a muscle. Tense enough to snap in two, he visibly trembled in place, teetering on the brink of total collapse. For a moment, Axel wondered if he was about to be sick. Saïx's breathing was heavy and loud, almost wheezing so hard that it carried his whole torso with every labored inhale.

"Isa…? Are you alright?"

Axel soon realized what was happening, watching in horror as Saïx sank to his knees with his face in his hands. His shoulders began to heave violently as pitiful sobs and whimpers erupted from him. He was crying. Axel couldn't believe it. Saïx was openly weeping into his palms, right there on the floor. Before he could recover from the shock, Axel sprang into action, rushing to his friend's side and kneeling beside him. "Hey, come here…"

Saïx pushed him away when he attempted to slide his arms around him. "Don't…"

"Isa, it's okay—"

"You don't understand…" Saïx kept his head down, sniffling and wiping his face. He was hardly able to speak between huffing and gasping, and the tears continued to pour down his face faster than he could brush them away. Axel had never seen him like this in all the time they'd known each other. This inevitable crash was almost frightening to witness, knowing how much pain he was in and for how long he'd kept it bottled up. "Lea… we can't…"

"Why not? At least tell me that."

Saïx took a long, shaky breath. "Xemnas…"

"What about him?"

"Xemnas knows… He is watching…" he explained in fragments, barely coherent among his stifled sobs. "He uses you as leverage to test my loyalty…"

"What? What do you mean?"

Saïx turned away, avoiding the subject and leaving Axel to question with growing concern just what was being done to him to scare him this much. They'd known Xemnas for years. The man was a cunning leader — an excellent showman of false compassion, but a ruthless authoritarian under the surface. He wasn't the type to simply torture someone, and Saïx wasn't one who might easily break under such circumstances. As he sat and worked through the puzzle, Axel remembered the brief talk he'd had with Zexion. Whatever was going on, Zexion knew, but how had he become privy to such a personal conundrum when Saïx wouldn't even tell Axel — his best friend, someone he'd loved in a past life? Either he willingly shared everything with the young apprentice, or Zexion found out on his own. The moment that thought crossed his mind, the whole picture became clearer for Axel. He began to understand in bits and pieces what Saïx might have been talking about, and now pressed him for the rest of the story.

"Isa," Axel's request was soft, but stern. "What happened that night in Addled Impasse?"

Saïx's eyes widened at his question. "How did you know—?"

"Tell me, Isa. You owe me that much."

If there was any color left in Saïx's face, it drained away in an instant. He dropped his head with a shuddering sigh, drawing out the silence to stall for time. Finally, after nearly a minute of hesitation and wringing his hands, he opened his mouth to speak. "Do you remember the day I got the scar?"

Axel winced at the memory. "I try not to."

"I was a foolish child," he hissed. "I asked Xemnas to relieve my pain. He rewarded me with this wretched mark."

Saïx spat out every word with audible disgust in his voice, reliving the memory one agonizing moment at a time. "He told me the moon was a gift. He promised me peace. In my weakest moment, when I was awash in grief and anguish, he offered to quell my sorrows. I was desperate, Lea."

Axel listened as his companion recounted the harrowing tale. His own memories of that fateful evening were no more pleasant. Their last conversation was a mess of misspoken words and biting accusations, an argument that circled in an endless loop and ultimately went nowhere. Axel, dizzy from the spiraling, believed he had no choice but to give up for the night and hope that maybe they could patch things up later on after they had time to think. He'd spent the entire night crying in bed, only to wake up the next morning to see a stranger standing in Saïx's body. Pointed ears, yellow eyes, and a deep wound on his face. The man was completely unrecognizable. Axel recalled quite vividly the guilt, knowing that he was responsible for the hideous transformation. The image would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"That night, in Addled Impasse…" Saïx continued. "Xemnas brought me back to that moment all those years ago. He used my own memories against me to inflict that same pain and fear that I felt back then. He weakened me, and then he…" He paused as his voice broke. Tears leaked from his eyes again as he swallowed down the knot in his throat and delivered his confession. "Xemnas can control me using the moon. He forced me to berserk, and he pointed me right at you… just to warn me of what would happen if I were ever to defy him."

Axel's jaw dropped as the stunning realization came over him. "All those times when you said you didn't know what triggered it…"

"He was behind every one of them," Saïx was crying again, dragging his wrist across his face and sniffling loudly as he finished his story. "I found reports that detailed the process. I was just another one of his experiments… This wound is the doorway through which he can invade my body. He's been spying on me. Following me wherever I go, listening to my thoughts, watching my every move…"

Axel reeled at the enormity of Saïx's revelation. "Then… he knows. He knows everything."

It would probably take Axel the rest of the week to process everything he'd just learned. For almost ten years, he wondered what had happened to the friend he'd grown up with, the shy boy who made him laugh when no one else was around to catch him smiling. He missed what they had, and after a long while, he was content with just the memories. But, Axel found, he couldn't live with the questions. He wouldn't let a lifelong relationship — the deepest love he'd ever felt — be thrown away without a reason. Now, the wait was over, and his questions were finally answered. Saïx was more than just Isa's Nobody. He was a combination of two beings — the shadow of his former self, merged with pieces of someone else. It was unclear just why Saïx had been chosen, and Axel wasn't sure he wanted to know, but his old friend — Isa — was no more. He'd become a victim of the only form of torture to which Xemnas might stoop. The Superior had found Saïx's weakness and exploited it until he had broken him completely. In exchange for his obedience, Saïx was granted the moon's power, which increased his strength and liberated him from pain. But it was that same power which Xemnas used to manipulate him, to exert control over him. Over the years, he chipped away at Isa bit by bit until he was swallowed up entirely by the new identity that had formed in its place — Saïx. The perfect puppet.

Xemnas' plan of wiping a person clean had already come to fruition, and Saïx was the end result. Why, then, was the experiment with Roxas being continued? What was the Superior really after? And, if what happened in Addled Impasse was merely a warning shot, what would a full-blown punishment entail?

"Isa, we can get through this," Axel assured him. "We can find a way to—"

Saïx pushed Axel off of him, shaking his head as he climbed to his feet. His despair now replaced with rage, he picked up an untouched ceramic pot left over from the training session and hurled it to the floor, shattering it into pieces with a thunderous crash. Axel stood and cautiously approached him, gently gripping his shoulder without saying another word. He could feel the man's body trembling with fury and sorrow, could hear the hiss of his breath as he fought off the onslaught of more tears.

"I want you, Lea. I want you more than anything," he whispered in desperation. "But I can't have you. Not if it puts you in danger. I won't let him harm you."

"Isa, I can take care of myself. You don't have to worry about me."

"Don't underestimate him. You know what he's capable of."

"And anything he could do to me would be nothing compared to spending forever without you."

Saïx jerked out of Axel's grasp and threw on his coat. "I'm sorry, Lea. Things can't be the way they were before. I can't risk losing you again."

"Isa, wait! Please!"

Saïx pulled his hood up and stormed out without looking back. Axel, defeated, let him go, not knowing what else he could have said to convince him otherwise. "You never lost me… I've always been here…"

Another lie, spoken to an empty room. Axel was alone again, just listening to the sound of his memories replaying themselves over and over. Terrible company, those images, those words. But soon, it would be all he had. Axel was a man of absolutes. Things that were permanent, lasting. He lived for words like "forever." "Immortal." "Always." Naive as it could be, Axel danced through life in a perfect world where happiness and bliss would never cease. Where hope and dreams would never die. In his foolishness, he let himself believe that relationships, whether they be romantic or platonic, could be unending. But the cold blow of reality caught up to him eventually, and he was forced to accept the limits imposed by the universe itself. He had no choice but to come to terms with the fact that people didn't last forever, that friendship didn't last forever, that love didn't last forever. But memories… Memories were forever. He'd found his perfect loophole and vowed to reclaim his permanence within people's memories.

Hours later, as he lay awake in bed, he reflected on that promise, that last bit of permanence that he could cling to. Even that purpose had betrayed him now, as he discovered that his own memories were just as boundless. Inside his mind lay a record of almost a decade's worth of events he never wanted to remember. It was a term he often neglected — 'never' — but the meaning, the permanence, was the same. Memories were the only thing he wouldn't lose. Even though they would bite and sting like pins in his chest, even as he wished for them to disappear, his memories would never die.

I've always been here…

This chapter has been written for almost a year, and today I can finally post it! I've waited so long because I just love this scene and I'm thrilled that you'll finally get to read it!

Thank you so much for putting in the time to read, to click the kudos button, to leave a comment, and to support my passion! I cherish you all!

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Peace and Love,

Ostelan