II.

It kept raining.

Ienzo choked down some food. His stomach was still sour, but he had to stay nourished. And then after that he went back into his room, in search for the copies of the old reports he had written and printed out meticulously. Nothing seemed to be in the right place. How had he been so disorganized?

Ienzo heard muffled conversation in the hallway; Ansem's familiar deep timbre mixed with Demyx's slightly higher, younger one. Ienzo gathered what he had and steeled himself.

"I'm all set, Master. I seem to have misplaced some of my papers." He was so incredibly exhausted. He tried to smile, but it slipped a little when he saw Demyx. It was bizarre to see him in civilian clothing. I am so tired of this life feeling strange. "Shall we get started?"

Demyx looked a little pained, embarrassed, even. "What are you guys up to?"

Ansem looked towards him. "Tying up some loose ends."

His lip twitched. "Well. Have fun I guess."

Fun. Ienzo shook his head.

"So you would like to look into the metaphysical behind Sora's disappearance?" Ansem asked. They started walking towards the lab.

"Yes. I believe I read that, even when Roxas was in simulation, away from this world, his heart was still very much in connection to others', right?"

Ansem sighed. "That was all discovery in retrospect," he said. "It… was incredibly callous of me, but for the longest time I did not believe Roxas hada heart. But I know better now."

"Sora's heart is special. I know Riku said he no longer feels connected to Sora's heart, but if I could somehow explore those connections, or at least approximate them in data, then maybe we can trace his presence so far." He bit his lip. "It's all very nebulous. But I feel I owe it to them to at least try."

"That's my boy," Ansem said. "Yes. I think that's a good jumping off point. And luckily we have plenty of data of those connected to Sora."

"The replicas?" Ienzo asked.

"Quite."

"Yes. I see."

It was slow, painstaking work. They had to wait for the data to download from Twilight Town's terminal to receive Roxas's, which naturally took time between worlds. Then there was gathering the old Castle Oblivion and World That Never Was research all into one place, unpacking it from tiny .zip files from a thumb drive Even had always carried with him and lent to Ansem. While all this copied, Ienzo pored through what he had on paper. He truly did not know where to begin. Was this all in vain? Was this at all possible?

"You look unwell," Ansem commented. "It would do you some good to try and banish these anxious thoughts."

"Thank you, you've cured me," Ienzo muttered without meaning to. His hand shot to his mouth. "I… I apologize for such impudence."

To his surprise, Ansem was smiling. "You no longer need to be so formal," he said. "After all we've gone through, there is no reason why we can't talk and joke like equals."

"I have not earned that privilege," Ienzo said. He watched the progress bar roll ever so slowly across the screen. The approximate time for completion was hours from now, and the computer's fans were whirring wildly.

"Then treat it as a favor to me," Ansem said.

Ienzo's face burned. He could hardly believe what Ansem was implying. The words were meant to be kind, but they twisted a sort of pain within him. Everything, every little thing, sparked some bizarre emotional reaction.

"You're doing enough," Ansem said kindly.

"Maybe that time will come someday," Ienzo said. "But for now I am not ready."

"You've become quite wise. Yet I hope that you will not forget that you still have the right to grow, and learn, and seek happiness of your own accord. I would not blame you if you chose another path in life. Goodness knows I've tried."

Ienzo floundered. Happiness? A change in profession? Both seemed equally unlikely, and that sat oddly within him. "This is what I know. This is what I love."

"I'm merely advising that you don't let any doors close behind you."

He sighed. "Yes. I suppose." He glanced back to the clock, feeling antsy. "Well. I did not figure I would have the time, but I may cook dinner for us. It would be good to have everyone in the same room. We've been so scattered."

"I rather like the sound of that. You go on. I'll make sure things are running smoothly."

In Ansem's quarters, he shed his lab coat. Even in the chill, it felt overwarm, and constricting. He tried to lose himself in the ease of cooking. Ienzo allowed himself to make a cake. Thankfully he'd thought ahead to buy the dry ingredients, the vanilla and almond extract. This took skill, and finesse, and the result made people happy. He found the tension within him infinitesimally easing, but all too soon the prep work was over, and all there was left for him to do was watch the roast cook.

He set the broad mahogany table for five and stood at the china cabinet for a moment. To not include Demyx would be rude, and inconspicuous. Ienzo sighed and set a sixth place at the table.

Once he had set out all the food, he set about rounding up everyone. It felt good to see their faces when he asked them all to join together. It lifted the weight a little, made the anxiety bearable.

Demyx was farthest away in the castle. He didn't answer when Ienzo knocked at the door, and at first he wasn't even sure Demyx was there. But when he opened the door he was curled in the small old bed, fast asleep. Ienzo considered letting him sleep. After all, it would be even ruder to wake him up, wouldn't it? But then he caught the sharpness of his cheekbones reflected in the light, and could not bring himself to leave. He approached him warily and gave him a gentle shake. "Demyx?"

He stirred, flinching a little.

"I'm sorry to wake you. We're all having dinner and Ansem was wondering if you might like to join us."

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked almost as exhausted as Ienzo felt; Ienzo could see the veins through his pale skin. "Yeah. Thanks." Demyx paused, and then said all in a rush, "I'm sorry if what I said bothered you."

That caught him off guard. "That's alright. You meant what you said. You just don't understand." How could he? He hadn't had the same life as Ienzo, the same perspective. He could not be as acutely aware of every little mistake he made. This was Demyx . He was barely aware of his own presence most of the time.

Demyx blinked, looking stung. "No, I guess I don't," he said.

They headed up towards Ansem's quarters. The silence between them was pulling Ienzo taut. He could reach for small talk-but what was there to say?

They passed through the raggedly breezeway. A smoky-smelling wind blew through the curtains, ruffling the old lace.

"Swanky place," Demyx said cautiously.

Right, he wouldn't know. "Master Ansem's quarters. He likes the northernmost light."

"Why do you call him "Master"?"

This puzzled him. "Because I am his apprentice, and he deserves respect."

"Are you, though? I mean, you've been doing this all on your own. Feels kinda like he just slipped back into place and took all the credit for the work you did getting Roxas and Naminé new bodies."

A finger of anger welled in his throat, and he regretted waking Demyx. Against his will, he recalled the day they'd woken Naminé, after hours of preparing and reprogramming the replica. Ienzo had prepared himself to say something to soothe her, knowing very well that to her perspective she was surrounded by three people who had always treated her poorly. But Ansem had spoken to her first. "Not to be rude, Demyx, but if I sought your opinion on the matter, I would ask for it."

He flinched. "Sorry."

Ienzo relented. This brassiness was just par for the course for Demyx's personality, and there wasn't any offense meant in it. "That's quite all right." He pushed open the heavy doors and crossed over to the table, to his seat by Ansem's side. He could see Demyx looking at the space and for a moment saw it anew, the simple opulence of it, and yet its state of disrepair. He seemed shy, unsure of himself, and finally settled down at the last empty space.

"Sorry. I didn't know I was holding you all up," Demyx said.

"No harm, no foul," Ansem said. "Please, everyone. Help yourselves."

With their recent conversation in mind, Ienzo couldn't help but feel a slight ping of frustration. Ansem had not spent the day cooking. But these were his quarters; by default, he was the host.

They all ate. The awkwardness in the air was obvious. They hadn't all gathered like this in a long while, nearly since they'd reunited. Nobody seemed to know quite what to say. At least the meal had come out okay. Between bites, Ansem advised him of the progress of the downloads; some of the files were corrupted, so he was going in by hand to see what he could recover.

"Who made this?" Demyx asked. "Everything's really good."

Ienzo turned away, trying to remind himself to be patient. It was a compliment, after all. "That would be me. Thank you, Demyx." He did look like he truly appreciated it.

Even recommended a certain file conversion which might recover some of the corrupted data. They talked about the efficacy of this for a little while. The unexpected familiarity of the conversation eased the knot inside Ienzo's breast. Maybe they just needed time to readjust to each other. It wasn't completely hopeless. But there was so much bitterness, so much regret and guilt, that it seemed to choke the air.

Plates empty, he started to clear the table for the cake. But to his surprise, Demyx offered to do it for him. Ienzo nearly refused, but there was a strange, unreadable glint in Demyx's eye. "The kitchen is through that door there."

Even raised his eyebrow. "Would you look at that."

"He does seem a touch uncomfortable," Dilan said. He sipped at the sweet wine that was a favorite of Ansem's. "It is odd. We can't pretend it isn't."

"This is his home now, as much it is any of ours," Ansem said. "We must all be patient with one another, and welcoming to our guest. Even if this situation is… unorthodox."

"Yes," Ienzo agreed. His voice sounded more affable than he felt. "Are we feeling ready for dessert?" Seeing the affirming nods, he crossed back to the kitchen for the cake.

Demyx's left hand was covered in blood.

"What on earth-" he started.

Demyx spoke carefully, though his teeth. He gripped his elbow tightly. "Knife in the sink. There's no towel or anything-"

Right-he'd brought all the linen down to be washed earlier. "That must've been my mistake. I am so sorry." He glanced around quickly to find anything to staunch the blood, but there wasn't a scrap of fabric or paper. He untied his ascot. He had several more, and could very easily make some from his younger self's clothing. But Demyx didn't take it.

For the first time Ienzo fully recognized the wild, desperate look in his eye from earlier. He'd never seen it on a person other than himself. The kitchen, well insulated, made it easy to hear Demyx's shallow, heightened breathing. His hands trembled. He feels it too, Ienzo thought. An odd, but not unpleasant, feeling seeped into his bones. He turned on the tap and guided Demyx's bleeding hand under it. Thankfully the cut wasn't as bad as it looked. He bound it tightly. "I think you're having a panic attack. Try and take a deep breath for me, okay? It'll be over soon."

He struggled to do so. Ienzo tried to hold his gaze, knowing all too well how terrifying it was to be in that moment, utterly alone. But doing so was difficult, and he very nearly felt anxious himself. Ienzo took his uninjured elbow and helped him sit.

It took time. He shut his eyes, focusing hard on something. Ienzo hoped whatever it was grounded him. Once his breathing became less audible and forced, Ienzo tried to speak gently. "Was that the first time it happened?"

Demyx couldn't make eye contact. Ienzo knew that embarrassment well, the shame of losing control. "I had one yesterday."

And he was also having them often. Again, he felt his resentment and frustration at Demyx unraveling. Things were just as uncontrollable for him. And he didn't have the same awareness of his own mind that Ienzo did. "Do you have a history of this happening?"

He shook his head a second time. "I don't think so. But a lot of that time is hard to remember."

"What time? When you were human?" That was unusual. Was it a coping mechanism gone awry? Was it something to do with the fact that he'd been a vessel?

He nodded.

Ienzo would have to puzzle this out another time. Speaking of missing memory would only destroy Demyx's tenuous control. "Do you know what it is that triggered you?" Maybe if he could help him gain an awareness of it, it would help in the future if this happened again.

He was silent for a long moment. "No," he said at last.

It wasn't always possible to tell. "That's alright. None of this readjustment is easy. It's most likely stress you're not used to feeling. I don't think this sort of thing is permanent." Even as he said the words, he doubted the truth in them.

Demyx's eyes were glassy. "I'm sorry."

Ienzo softened a little. "You've nothing to apologize for," he said.

He was withdrawing into himself; Ienzo could see it. He didn't know if he should stop it, or if Demyx needed it to recover. He stood, cradling his injured hand. "I'm going to go lay down," he whispered.

He nodded. "You must be exhausted."

Dazedly, Demyx left. Ienzo watched him go. Part of him wondered if he should follow, but he himself wanted nothing more than solitude after his own attacks, so he let Demyx go. He stretched, picked up the cake, and went back to the table.

"Everything alright?" Dilan asked.

"Demyx was feeling faint. He's gone to rest." He took the cover off the simple cake. He would try and save a piece for him.

"I thought he was looking a little peaked myself," Even said. "He was in hiding an awful long time. It was difficult enough for me to cope when I hid too. I can only imagine."

"Well, your sacrifices are not in vain," Ansem said. "Here's to a full recovery."

When Ienzo ate, the sweet cake tasted like paste.