"Okay, so first of all," Axel began with a sigh, "a while ago I met this girl named Xion—turns out she's Zexion's sister, yeah? So since she works in the library, we've been hanging out from time to time. But she's got a boyfriend, Roxas, and I hate him—"

"Pause," Demyx interrupted. "You hate him? Is it because he's dating her, or because you don't like him as a person?"

"Because he's dating her."

"Oh-kay."

"So yesterday we were walking outside on campus when suddenly, poof, a wild Roxas appeared. . . . What?" Axel glared at Demyx, who was trying not to laugh behind his hand.

"Nothing. Continue."

"He decided to launch some verbal missiles, so I punched him in the face. Then a security guard—"

"Wait, what?" Demyx demanded, slamming his hand down on the table. A dozen heads turned in their direction. "What the hell did he have to say to make you punch him in the face in front of Xion?"

"He accused me of being an addict," Axel said, deadpan. But while he had faced facts while speaking with Xion, he wasn't so sure about revealing the truth to Demyx. "In front of Xion. So I kind of freaked out a little. I didn't want Xion to think I was that kind of guy."

A very confused look had taken over Demyx's features, and Axel prayed silently that Demyx didn't actually know anything about the matter at hand.

"Okay, so now Xion knows you're not an addict, but she does know you have a shitty amount of control over your temper. . . ." The blond raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, I know, I—it's not my fault!" Axel protested. "Okay, well, after that, this asshole security guard literally dragged me halfway across the campus to Dean Xemnas's office, where I got assigned a week's worth of volunteering. At the library. So here I am."

"Wooooow," Demyx laughed, facepalming. "So because you acted like a sixth grader and punched some guy in the face . . . Now you get to do volunteer work with the girl you wanna date?"

"What?" Axel exclaimed. Heads turned toward them again. "I never said I wanted to date her," he explained, lowering his voice back down to a whisper.

"Not with actual words, no," Demyx answered with a grin. "But—say her name again."

"Xion."

"There," he said as if that explained everything, holding out his hands palm up. "Your voice goes soft, you start blushing, you bite your lip—"

"I did not bite my lip!" Axel protested.

"You did too." Demyx could barely hold in his laughter. "You want to date her. You can't deny it."

Axel rolled his eyes. "That's an issue for some other time, especially considering she's already dating Roxas."

"Axel," Demyx said, as though speaking to a child, "you're a college junior. Haven't you learned that you can steal another man's girl if you really want to?"

"Jeez, Demyx," Axel muttered, though by this time he couldn't keep himself from smirking either, "I didn't think you were that kinda guy."

"I didn't say I was that kind of guy," Demyx said. "Just that it's not out of the question."

"Whoo, man . . ." Axel ran a hand through his hair. "I am going to hell for this."

Demyx burst out laughing. This time, the upperclassman with the blue hair, the one who oversaw all of the volunteers, strode over to their table with her hands on her hips. "You two are making too much noise," she snapped. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Sorry," Axel said, half under his breath, as he and Demyx scrambled up from the table.

"Stiff much?" Demyx muttered, looking after her, as they pushed open the library's doors and stepped out into the fading light.

Axel didn't respond to that. "Yeah, I think I should probably be going back to my dorm room now," he said.

"Wait—not before you give me back my notebook," Demyx said and held out his hand.

"Oh yeah." Axel swung his backpack over his shoulder and dug Demyx's notes out from the depths of the main pocket. He tossed the notebook at the blond.

"Thanks, bro," Demyx said. "I'll see you in class, right?"

"Right."

"Good luck, by the way." The blond winked at him.

"With wh—? Hey!"

Axel rolled his eyes and, shoving his backpack over his shoulder again, set off for his dorm.

When he returned to his dorm, he found Saïx sitting at his desk in front of his computer, working on something. His roommate looked up at him with suspicion. "Oh," he said, turning back to his work. "It's you."

"Yeah, it's me," Axel said. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Sometimes I hope," Saïx muttered. "Of course, that never really helps."

"Screw you," Axel replied, striding into the room and throwing his backpack down on his bed. Thanks to the last few days' shenanigans, he'd barely had time to work on the essays he was supposed to write for class. He set his computer on his desk, shoved headphones over his ears to block out the sound of Saïx ignoring him, and blasted his music at almost full volume as he stared at a blank page.

After about seven minutes of writing absolutely nothing, Axel leaned forward and laid his head down on his desk. He wished Saïx and Zexion hadn't hidden all of his medication. He wanted it, he needed it, he couldn't concentrate without it. Of course, he knew from previous experience that he couldn't concentrate while on it, either, but it was better than nothing—better than this all-consuming, neverending nothing he was floating in.

He opened his eyes and looked at the clock: five hours had passed. Someone had closed his computer and turned off the lights. Axel muttered a string of curses under his breath. How could he have fallen asleep at his computer right now? He really needed to get some work done.

Then again, it almost concerned him more that someone had even bothered to put his computer in sleep mode and turn the lights off. Why not just leave him be, passed out at his desk?

"Saïx, what the hell is your problem?" Axel demanded in a whisper, but Saïx didn't respond—no, of course, he was too busy sleeping.

"Arghhh," Axel growled, knotting his hands in his hair. "What am I gonna do . . ."

He wanted to crush the uneasy feeling inside him, to swallow pills until he could feel his mind go blank and his blood go cold again. He hated that his thoughts ricocheted, clear and sharp, through his head—reminding him that Saïx, who had given him the cold shoulder for the past several months, had used to be one of his closest friends. Reminding him that Saïx had shut down his computer and turned off the lights so he could sleep. And he had brought Axel to the infirmary all those times not because he had any hard feelings toward him, or because he wanted to cause him trouble, but because he cared. Because as much as he put up a front communicating otherwise, he didn't want Axel to fall into a coma by himself in their dorm room, didn't want him to harm himself.

Why couldn't painkillers kill the kind of pain those thoughts caused him?

Giving up, Axel flung himself onto his bed. He'd have to finish his essays some other time. Maybe tomorrow, if he felt better. Hell, who was he kidding? Maybe never. Like it mattered.

Despite the fact that he'd just fallen asleep at his desk for being so tired, Axel found it difficult to fall asleep again. He lay awake staring at the ceiling, remembering that just days ago, he had sat up here until dawn with pills in his hand. He was torn between aching for that scenario and knowing that he was better off here, with Saïx standing sentinel and his homework calling to him from his computer just feet away.

But since he'd ventured into the life he was living right now, he knew, it would be too hard to go back.

Addict, Roxas said in his head.