Title: Just Seems Logical

Rating: T+ - M

Warnings: Suicide attempts, angst, boy x boy 'love', cuteness, out of characterness, fluff, lots of hurt, character death. More will be given at the beginning of each chapter.

Summary: They say people who commit suicide go to hell. What about if they try and fail? Do they still get that chance of going to that dark, fiery little place under the earth? Roxas didn't think so. -Axel x Roxas-

Notes: I don't believe in heaven or hell, God or Satan, so please don't be offended by me, or anything in this little story. It's here purely for entertainment, and I'd prefer it if I didn't get flamed for something like religion. Mmkay?

Anyway, this was inspired by something I saw on TV one night, not to mention my recent re-addiction to Kingdom Hearts.

Lots of angst. Get over it. You know you like it when Roxas plays the wounded puppy and Axel comes to save him.

Disclaimer: I'm only a kid. Do you possibly expect me own something as kick ass as Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters? Well, if you did... you need to stop being so damn gullible.

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Chapter 1ne: Running Through Rain

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It was raining today, the third time this week, and I was cooped up in my room, just laying on my bed again. It's not like I had anything to do, anyway. I could hear the muffled noises of my parents' voices through my slightly open door from down the stairs and in the kitchen. They were yelling; not that this surprised me in any way. The two of them often fought with one another. The sad thing is, it was never about the normal things parents usually fought about, like the issue of money and jobs, or one of them caught cheating or that they were just flat outnot in love anymore, oh no, no, no. It was about their imperfect offspring. Their 'crazy' bastard-son.

About me.

Now, I don't know if you've ever been the reason your parents were constantly screaming their lungs out at each other, but I can assure you, without one little doubt in my mind, that it's absolutely the most horrible feeling you can ever experience. I mean, really...

I let out a small sigh, staring at my ceiling, and jumped lightly when I heard what sounded like glass hitting something and shattering. And, again, this didn't surprise me. It was more than likely one of the many worthless pieces of junk my parents wasted their money on.

Swallowing hard when I heard my father call my mother some nasty names, I ran a hand through my hair and wondered, with a sort of hysterical laugh pushing it's way forcefully from my vocal chords, what they were going to do with me. I knew they didin't want me here. They didn't want anything to do with me.

Would they kick me out, leave me on the streets to fend off all those perverts and pedophiles by myself? Would they send me away to some boarding school for delinquents to be with other freaks like me? Hire someone to finish me off in my sleep so that they would never, ever have to deal with me again?

...for some reason, the last thought seemed the most logical.

'And I can do that myself,' I thought bitterly, a grim smile playing my pale lips. 'Sounds... exciting. I've always wanted to try dying.' I sat up slowly, scanning my eyes around my room for my black hoodie.No I'm not emo, or whatever the hell you would call me, I just like the color. It keeps you warm - not to mention it goes well with everything.

I found it splayed out on my floor near my closet and, nearly tripping on my scruffy, worn-out tennis shoes, lifted myself from my bed and went to pick it up. After doing so, I examined it.

"It's dirty..." I tsked at it. "But I guess it doesn't really matter right now." And it didn't. I wasn't planning on 'going out with style'; I just didn't want to ruin some expensive shirt my parents bought for me. It would only make them even more hateful towards me after I'm gone to know that they wouldn't be able to get, what... about sixty-something dollars back into their pockets? It really did amaze me how selfish some people could be.

My stomach suddenly twisted when I stood in front of my mirror, staring blankly at my frail reflection. I didn't have any lights on at the moment, but I could still see how pale I was from the small amount of light coming from outside. Not only pale, but skinny. And I realized then exactlywhy I was feeling like this. I haven't been eating, not since...

Well, you'll find out soon enough.

I took a deep breath and slipped my hoodie on over my head, having a bit of difficulty getting my arms through the sleeves since I couldn't see. But one way or another, I did manage to get it on. Then, I slipped my old tennis shoes on. I didn't bother with my hair or pants; my hair was always messy and I already had a pair of jeans on.

Satisfaction was a feeling I rarely got, but as I looked at myself in my mirror and thought about what I was about to do, I smiled. I mean it, I actually smiled. Smiled at the thought that I wouldn't be coming home, smiled because I wouldn't ruin my parents' lives anymore, smiled because...

Because I felt alive. I felt productive and useful for once in my crummy little life. It felt good.

After a few minutes more of staring at my sickly, smiling self, I turned to my still slightly open door and pulled it open, bounding happily down the stairs. At the bottom, my parents were still screaming and throwing things, but they stopped when they realized I was watching them. My eyes met with my mothers' first, and I gave a kind of shy smile before switching my gaze to my father. He was... scary looking, as always. But I gave him a regretful look, a look that just screamed, "I'm sorry I'm such a burden. But can you ever forgive me?" At least, I hoped that was the message he was receiving.

"Bye," They didn't try to stop me when I walked to the door, didn't when I opened it, and I doubt they even cared when I was on the other side.

x x x

The rain hadn't calmed the least bit since I was back in my bedroom, in fact, I think it was falling harder than before. People scurried past, huddling under their coats and umbrella's. Some stared at me like I was nuts. Though it's kind of hard not to blame them... Wouldn't you think that if someone had walked past you in the pouring rain, dripping and absolutely soaked to the bone, shivering and teeth visibly clanking together, wearing a look that said, "I don't really give a fuck anymore,"?

Exactly.

I padded through puddles, jumping in some of the larger ones, and stopped when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned and blinked.

"What are you doing?" the tapper asked. It sounded male, though I couldn't honestly be sure. It had it's hood pulled up over it's head. But for your sake, I'll just refer to it as a 'he'.

"Why should I tell you?" I asked coolly.

He didn't answer. Instead, he just grumbled and shoved something I recognized as an umbrella to my chest. I took hold of it so it didn't fall to the ground when he pulled his hand back.

"You're going to get sick..."

"So?"

I think he let out a sigh, again, I couldn't be sure. "Don't be so negative."

Negative? Who the hell was this guy to tell me not to be 'negative'. But thankfully, I didn't blow up at him. That's just how I was, see. When I was mad or upset about something, I just kept it to myself.

Dropping the umbrella, I turned my back to him, breaking off into a run as the bridge came into view. Cars sped by, honking at me, but I ignored them, throwing one leg over the protective railing at a time.

"Okay, Roxas..." I whispered to myself. "It's now or never... and if you chicken out of this now, you'll never do it." And I knew I wouldn't.

But I was scared.

Even so, I let go of the cool railing. The river below me was always rough whenever it rained, and I hated not knowing if it was going to be quick, or if it would take a while for my soul to finally slip away from my body. I hoped it was the former.

I lifted a foot...

I leaned forward...

And I was off, spiraling the short distance downward.

...you know what really sucked about it? Knowing no one would care.

I hit the water hard. God, it was freezing. It was a good thing, I decided, that it was as cold as it was. It would take less time. 'I wonder if I'll even get a funeral.'

Honestly, I didn't care, so why I thought that, I couldn't figure out, and I didn't exactly have the time to do it. My chest began to hurt, my head was spinning, and my eyes burned when I opened them one last time, only to catch a glimpse of something black, only to feel something grab hold of my arm. My vision faded after that.

Finally...

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Notes: I really hope that didn't suck TOO bad.

Majorly cliché, majorly common, but I don't really give a damn. I have something BIG planned for this. Something that involves a swing. You'll find it very interesting!

Now then, lets get to my useless begging. It may not have been the best, but I have a headache, and I would love it so very much if you would drop a little review. Just something simple like, "It was good" will be fine. I would hate to waste my time writing something no one likes... and I bet you would too.