Eternity in an hour

12:20 a.m.

Wright and Co. Lawyer's agency

Office

The upcoming collaboration concert between Gavin and Demyx became the new topic of discussion. Trucy unearthed her fangirl spirit and tacked posters on Apollo's wall. When he irritably took down the latest one, it found a home in Sora's office.

Fortunately for him, she did not press for a response. For the next couple of days, Sora delicately avoided her. But Trucy being Trucy, barged in his office like a summer breeze, complained about Polly and blazed off again; visiting Athena, teasing Pearl and infecting everyone with her infectious glee.

"You have to come with me to the concert!" Her voice floated pleadingly in the tiled hallways. She hurried after Apollo, briskly entering Mr. Wright's office. "It's going to be the concert of a lifetime!" her bright blue eyes glittered expectantly. "I'll help you win at Poker the next time you play against Daddy." The attorney merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Sora will be coming too."

Behind his desk, Sora perked. What?

A loud, insistent beep from his smart desk briefly spiked his blood pressure and ignoring it, he sorted through the mess underneath his table. Each time a senior partner handed him a case to review, he grew distracted by the details. The murder of Elise Deuxinum, fascinated him. Did Maya ever realize her long lost mother died to save her? Justice's first case chilled Sora to the bone. I'd never survive accusing my employer of murder. How did he feel? Fresh out of Law school and having his life turned upside down?

No wonder he's explodes so easily.

The smart table beeped again. Bumping his head on the underside, Sora rubbed the beginnings of a bruise and checked the progress. His digital assistant stomped its boot for no reason and its tiny face split into a sunshine smile when Sora appeared.

"Geez," he tapped the avatar's forehead, "you're needy. Did you copy all the evidence images?" Recently, he activated voice commands and life became a whole lot easier. Mr. Wright, increasingly baffled by the technology, sometimes hung around the table, attempting to learn its features and promptly gave up. "What about the files? Are they grouped according to the case I.D's?"

"Yeah." A speech bubble floated atop the avatar's head. "What the hell do you take me for?"

"Ahahaha," Sora laughed weakly, "you already sound like Vanitas." A thought popped in his head. "Did they program you as a likeness of Vanitas?" he questioned and the avatar nodded, kicking a file to the recycle bin.

"You can't live without your twin brother," the little thing mocked. "So I'm here to babysit you. Hurry up with your work." The speech bubble turned spiky. "You've been poring over Phoenix Wright's disbarment case for the last-" it exaggeratedly pulled out a pocket watch twice its size, "-two hours. At this rate..." a banner popped over its head with calculation scrawled on it, "...you will have to miss lunch if you want to complete your quota for the day."

This is how people feel when Vanitas talks to them. Sora massaged his chest. Ach, it hurts.

"Are you affiliated with the KBWA?" Sora unexpectedly queried and the avatar blinked. "They have cutting edge technology don't they?"

The digital assistant became strangely blank. He waited for a while for the avatar to respond but it sat on a folder, in the upper right corner and stared at nothing. Gently pressing his index finger against it, Sora retracted his hand quickly when a dangerous beep bled from the table.

What did I do? Abort! Abort! He clutched his muffler, hoping his table won't rebel against him.

"The answer to your questions lies outside of my programming parameters," the assistant finally responded. "A virus!" The speech bubble tinted a passionate red. "I'll protect your files!" It declared and stomped off, a spear-thing raised high above its head. Grinning teeth, it dived into settings and vanished from view.

Who designed the table? Sora sighed at the code's bloodthirsty antics. It's like interacting with a real being. The desk has its own personality.

"Don't get hurt," he muttered when a glinting spear-tip emerged from the bin, only to sink again. "No cookies for you if you come back ripped to shreds."

"Can I come in?" a smooth voice asked from the door and Sora stammered his permission, smoothing his tie self-consciously at the handsome smile Klavier greeted him with. "Too much work ja?" he indicated the piles scattered on the carpet and drifting under the table. "You're talking to yourself." Klavier dropped into an ottoman, his weight sinking comfortably.

Mouth dry, Sora pointed to the table. "I was instructing my digital assistant," he mumbled, cheeks prickling in embarrassment. Klavier leaned over the table, eyes widening appreciatively. "He's out hunting... I mean uh... he's destroying a virus-"

The avatar popped back on screen, its spear tip a cherry red. "Threats annihilated." The message flashed. "Who the hell is this guy?" he pointed his stick at Klavier," his smile is annoying."

"As you see," Sora inwardly begged his digital assistant to shut its speech bubble creating mouth and flicked it to the menu. "It's interactive... and... and rude."

The glamorous prosecutor laughed, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Fein," he placated and brought out slips of paper from a folder he carried. As if on cue, Apollo trudged through the door, fringe sharpening to a point when his hazel irises landed on Klavier. "Herr Forehead, I have a present for Trucy." The prosecutor winked and placed tickets on the table. "Special discount for my loyal fan." He grinned widely and Trucy rushed into the office, squeaking in delight. "There are tickets for you and Herr Fluffy too," Gavin added to Apollo.

Great! I'll give it to Vanitas.

"Herr Fluffy, I'd be pleased if you can attend my collaboration concert." Klavier tilted his head. A fangirl might wilt under his smooth charms but not Sora, he died inside. "If you need another ticket, I'll get you one." Gavin's smile forced the watery sun to shine brighter. "You will come, won't you?"

Heck no! I had enough outdoor adventures for this year.

"I'll leave you to think about it, baby." Klavier rose and followed the grumbling Apollo out.

The office became quiet again and Sora exhaled, his short lived relief shattering at an insistent beep.

Putting the table to sleep, Sora tackled the work under his desk. He sniffed greedily, Klavier left the chamber smelling of spice and smoke. Besides, Sora's hands slackened on a sheaf of paper, the photograph of Void Gear and Vanitas' murder case details jumped at him. Demyx will be there.

Whenever Organization XIII involved themselves in anything, it usually ended with a disaster, Sora's stomach contracted. The KBWA kept silent on the whereabouts of the remaining members and flurries of gossip surrounded Demyx when he broke away from his sponsoring company. Vanitas can go, Sora decided, he's a huge fan of Demyx.

Besides, I don't even like his music.

The two way window offered a sweeping vista of the training chamber and the two individuals dueling inside it.

Grass flattened underfoot, Vanitas elegantly sprang back from the Buster sword. He darted towards the left while his companions branched to the right. A line of pale-yellow, glowing mines surrounding his target detonated, choking the air with dust and pollen.

Cutting the acrid smoke apart, Cloud launched after Vanitas. Several ice spears honed on the blonde and pivoting on his foot, he sheared through them, flicking shards of melting ice.

"You passed the evaluation last week," outside Riku droned, "why are you interested in this training session?"

Squinting to glean details flashing in the thick screen of dust, Lea leaned on his palms. "You don't trust me," he stated. Lightning danced. A tendril of darkness cocooned the Black Saint.

"Organization XIII created a lot of trouble," the Grey Knight intoned. "Your kind is the reason for so many imbalances in this cosmos."

Crack!

A hairline seam radiated across the window from where a Keyblade with pointed teeth pierced it. The weapon tore away, lost in the tornado of emerald winds and lightning. Jagged clefts of stone erupted underfoot and Vanitas barely dodged a blow to his ribs.

"I'm not a nobody anymore," Lea said, staring straight ahead. Inside the chamber, Vanitas taunted Cloud. The blonde operative failed to rise to the jibes and calmly parried a flood of strikes. "The KBWA had my heart all along and no one ever told me." Axel cast a sideways glance at Riku.

Initiating the training chamber's self-repair sequence, Riku typed short reports on the control panel and sent them to the vice-chief. "Do you know where Organization XIII went?" he questioned, not expecting an answer.

The glass crystalized and Axel crouched, watching through the clear pane at the bottom. "Castle Oblivion," he informed. "It's not betrayal if I'm not part of them anymore is it?" He put out his hand and a brilliant Keyblade flashed into his hand. "I'd never think I'd be a Keyblade wielder," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm not allowed to summon it, according to-"

"DIE!" Vanitas screeched, blasting ragnarok.

"-to my mentor." Lea chuckled. The Black Saint merged curses and insults into a new language. "Can you tell me about my motif?"

Turquoise irises glittering mistrustfully, Riku peeked at the space above Axel's shock of spiky, flame red hair. "It's a phoenix," he commented. The firebird rose from a cloud of grey ash, flame wings bathing the dim training complex with an amber glow. "When you first summon your Keyblade," Nox reluctantly explained, "it shows only a handful of ash, then a phoenix chick grows from it. It's... it's," he fished for a compliment. Sora responded well to encouragements and he wanted to extend the same consideration to those around him. "I think it suits you," he lamely finished and turned to the training session, mildly uncomfortable by Lea's smile.

The Keyblade twisted out of Vanitas' grasp and he summoned another one. Petals of darkness accompanied his attacks.

Cloaking the Buster sword with ice, Cloud ducked on instinct. A shield whizzed across his head. The Black Saint whacked the disk of metal back to Cloud who smacked it out of the air and it buried into a wall of rock.

Wiping a trickle of blood oozing from a cut on his eyebrow, Vanitas drowned a potion and waited for Cloud to do the same. "You fight like Zack," he commended. Recently, he dragged Cloud off to training sessions. It gave him a sense of warmth.

"You fight like an animal," Cloud said with a completely straight face. "An intelligent animal," he clarified. "I can tell when you use Zack's tactics, the thing with the mines and steam screen. But you already had an impressive credential before you came to the KBWA." Strife nodded solemnly.

"...Were you praising me?" Vanitas blinked bewilderedly. "Riku," he liked pronouncing the name aggressively, "did you hear?" The silver haired man nodded, regretting his choice to supervise the training. "You call this praise?" Vanitas irritably jerked a thumb at Strife. "It sounds like an insult!"

"Not everyone is as expressive as you," Riku retorted. "Are you done?"

Barely did he ask the question and Vanitas pounced on Cloud, slamming him against a rocky wall. "Of course not." Vanitas licked his lips. "One of us has to be knocking on Death's door for this match to finish." An explosion rocked the chamber and the ground quaked. Gasping when a gloved hand smashed into his face, Vanitas peeled apart from Cloud. With the help of Goofy, he sprang backwards.

An electric yellow serpent of lightning crashed into Strife, drowning him in the vengeful scream of thunder.

"I suppose you now have an accurate idea of who Clavius really is." The corner of Riku's mouth lifted in a rueful smile when Lea paled. "You haven't met the other twin have you?" A shake of the head. "The King has brown hair, bears identical features to him," Riku pointed to Vanitas cackling madly, "and is generally a more timid and gentle person. Although, you need a herculean amount of patience when dealing with him."

Bringing the bloody training session to a premature end, Riku sent his latest paragraph to Tifa; Cloud Strife wielded the Buster Sword with no difficulty and customized it to fit his fighting style. He showed a renewed interest in training and actively joined in group missions, even if he did hang out at the edge. The Black Saint still scoffed belligerently at any and every one, apart from his self-proclaimed trainee. He did an excellent job of mentoring Axel. Surprisingly. Lastly, Lea did his exercises religiously and engaged in friendly conversation with the members he came across.

However... I have yet to trust him.

The door slid apart with a pneumatic hiss and dust drifted from the sealed chamber, grainy under the complex lights. Storming out, Vanitas drew up to Riku and stood on his tiptoes to bolster his height. "Why did you stop the training?" he demanded. "We were busy!" His eyes gleamed predatorily. "Why don't you step inside with me? I'll allow you to evaluate my progress," he mockingly suggested.

The cloying stench of darkness accompanied Clavius at all times and Riku resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose, it will only earn him a bruise on his forehead. "Take a shower," he listlessly recommended. "You can demonstrate the basics of heartless hunting to Axel."

"Who died and made you boss?" Vanitas called to the retreating member. "Hey, if Sora arrives for training, call me." Riku waved a hand. "If you conveniently forget, I'll smash your skull in and mount your cranium on my wall!" he threatened. "I'm sure Sora won't mind."

Actually, he might. Vanitas scratched the dried blood caking his cheek with a fingernail.

Darkness dripped off him like rain and Lea cautiously retreated, stiffening when the Black Saint's piercing gaze stopped at him.

Something about the man unnerved Lea. The fathomless darkness churning inside. How did Clavius remain sane with such an overwhelming power? Did he never want to tip into the deep edge of madness and let all hell break loose?

Is this why the KBWA kept him close? To keep an eye on him?

"Vanitas," a voice from the shadows prompted his tight glower to melt into a begrudging grin. "Stop destroying the training chamber, I can't keep asking another branch to repair it each time. Find some other place to assert your supremacy," Leon admonished with a weary exhale, the scar slashing his face crinkling in dismay at the scratches lining the two way window.

Smirking unapologetically, Vanitas cleaned the crusts of blood in his hair. "Yeah, I don't think you came all this way to lecture me. You want me to do something Pops?"

"Stop calling me Pops," Squall grunted and brought up an assignment on the control panel. "Whatever. You will be present at Demyx' concert won't you?" The mission details scrolled on the LCD screen.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world but," Vanitas twirled his stiff hair, "I don't think I can convince Sora to go."

Behind the two stood Lea, temporarily forgotten.

Coding another repair sequence on the once indestructible training chamber, Leon privately wondered if Vanitas liked to target the two way window, the only weak link in the room. "Keep an eye on Demyx." Xehanort's progression planted a seed of unease in his chest. "And you be careful," the chief warned. "The Organization has a way of turning the most innocent of people into their puppets." His eyes slid towards Lea and back to Vanitas again.

Vanitas snorted. "They better be careful," he punched a first into his palm, "if it's anyone they have an eye on, it's Sora." His fingers dug into slashed jeans. "If they as much as look at him in the wrong way, I'll... I'll..." His boots leaked darkness, spilling in waves across the floor and his expression screwed into murder. The liquid lapped at Leon's shoes. "You won't expect me to let them live, will you?" Vanitas' voice caught in his throat, words acrid with rage. "If I get my hands on Xigbar, I'll squeeze the life out of him. Slowly." His lips stretched into a mad smile.

A hand clasped his shoulder and he quieted. "Of course," Squall conceded. "I'll get Saix to design a Xigbar avatar for you in the virtual training room. You can use it as target practice." Vanitas giggled, the potent hatred in his eyes mellowing. "Don't let them consume you," Leon stated.

Vanitas glowered at the floor, sticky with muddy darkness.

"Give me a private lesson," he demanded and Leon raised a questioning eyebrow. "I've never seen you in action. Please?" he excitedly asserted. "I want to better protect everyone, so I hoped you'd train me." He bothered an irritating cut on his collar bone. "Zack died before I finished my training and Riku suggested I be the vanguard to Sora along with Donald and Goofy." Low chatter resonated in the vast complex, another group approached to train. "Although we can seamlessly integrate our attacks to an extent, I want to be able to do it flawlessly like..."

Like Riku.

He doesn't need the diminutive mouse king telling him anything.

The chief blinked in understanding. "I'll summon you when I have time." Leon hardly had free moments. Drinking coffee and staring at the dim, blue glow of a screen, entrenched with meetings and multi, micro-planet threats kept him awake at night.

Parting at the outer corridor, Leon disappeared via the teleporting moogle. The furry creatures advertised a new and improved camping tent, which used less than half the space the previous tent used. Ignoring the high pitched chanting, Vanitas guided Lea to the research laboratory where the latter submitted his Keyblade for routine testing.

While the scanners whirred and light bathed the orange-red weapon, scientists scurried to and fro, spitting at the two Keyblade wielders to get out of the way. Beakers, filled with fluid of different tints, lined a long granite counter. Blade edged instruments scraped samples from the keyblade, a pinch of dust; a long, metal filament; and technicians submerged the scrapings into the beakers, jotting their results fervidly in notepads.

One approached, goggles high on his head and the remains of a crushed crystal clinging to the edge of his lab coat. "Where did you say you were from?" he asked Lea.

The model scratched his head. "Huh?" A placating service smile curled on his lip while the scientist impatiently tapped his pen and waited for an answer. "This is strange," he nervously smoothed his shirt, "I can't seem to remember?"

"The chemical composition should tell you where he is from, right?" Vanitas cut in and the scientist crisply nodded. Jiminy hopped from one desk to the other, conferring results, optimizing the tests. "Let's head to the second floor," Vanitas prompted and climbed the wooden, spiral staircase. The steps creaked comfortingly under his weight. "It's quieter there and we can work out an intensive training schedule."

They entered a quaint chamber supported by varnished beams. Tattered, skin bound journals lined ancient shelves and a hand drawn map covered the walls. Marveling at the intricate high-ways linking the planets and the sheer number of worlds in the limitless cosmos, Vanitas trailed his index finger across the parchment before dropping into a bench. Axel sat next to him, gaze far away.

"I can only remember fragments of my life before I joined the Organization," he said, frustrated by the lack of memories. A bookshelf glided across brass tracks and someone rifled through the journals. "More importantly," he craned his neck up, "isn't the KBWA going to grant me a title now that I'm a Keyblade wielder?" He waved his hand over his head. "I can't see my motif, but others can." Lea tried in vain to glimpse the firebird purported to signify his special status. "It's weird."

Right, Vanitas eyed the phoenix, his student needed a title.

Student.

"I'll crown you the Black Saint!" Zack had a way with titles. Vanitas wracked his brains, searching for a suitable phrase.

The motif encapsulated a person's past, present and future, he recalled. Therefore the title bestowed on Axel must hold the same gravity.

"Um... how about." Vanitas squirmed. Why was this so difficult? "How about Flame Rising?"

Lea blinked.

Vanitas blinked.

"Yea, no," he mumbled and played with the chain dangling from his tight jeans. "Something with fire..." An ugly, blue-black bruise darkened on his collarbone and he rubbed it. "Flaming Soldier?" The musty tint of books filled the chamber. "Since the phoenix is made of flames and all..." he trailed off.

"Phoenix," a familiar voice offered and Vanitas whipped around to Isa, arms crammed full of books. "It describes you perfectly."

Silently mouthing the words, Vanitas scowled. "How does Phoenix describe him?" He pointed at Lea.

Placing the journals at the edge of the bench, Isa stared at the ashes clouding the bottom of the motif. "Nox, has a shifting crossroad above his head and yet he is called the Grey Knight, have you ever thought why?" Crescent studs glittered in Isa's earlobes.

"Do I look like I studied Literature so I can dig for hidden meanings?" Vanitas retorted.

The floor creaked. Below, an exuberant shout indicated the testing on the Keyblade proceeded as planned.

"Grey is associated with flawed individuals." Isa flipped through a dusty book. "Nox is a member of the Los Angeles branch of the KBWA but his loyalties lie firmly with King Mickey-"

"And what are you insinuating?" Vanitas growled. "He fights for the KBWA as he should. Why don't you address your concerns in front of him?" He clutched his phone. "Should I get him here?"

The High-tier member inhaled tiredly through his nose. "His title reflects his social standing and character," he stressed. "The Black Saint." Isa brushed an invisible speck of lint off the crescent moon badge pinned to his lapel. "You may be an unnecessarily vulgar and crass individual at first glance-" Clavius' golden eyes sparked, "-but as it suggests, you have a pure intentions and a good heart." Saix turned his attention to the faded letters embossed on the research journal's spines.

Cheeks flooding pink at the praise, Vanitas awkwardly picked a scab on his forearm.

"Lea always charged into situations without thinking. He always had correct intentions, however," Isa's cerulean irises misted with memory, "none of his actions ever served him well." As teenagers, he followed his best friend, sneaking around the grand building almost an eternity ago. "We entered a governmental research facility. Actually, he went in and I followed to make sure he didn't do anything rash," Saix jerked his chin at Axel, "we wanted to find out about our friend and instead..."

Screams ripped the air. Cold moonlight reflected off jagged glass and the window exploded. His breath rasped in his chest. A whirlwind of ebony hair, of screeching his throat raw.

"He died and became a pawn for Organization XIII." Axel started and Isa gathered the journals and descended the spiraling staircase, his absence leaving a hollowness behind.

Cracking the tense atmosphere with a loud yawn, Vanitas leaned back on the bench, a dull ache gnawed his bones. "You don't have to listen to him." He couldn't believe he partially worshipped Saix once upon a time. The moon-drunk operative had the personality of a sea slug. "Now is your chance to do things right." Still as stone, Lea managed a languid nod. "About your title-"

"He's right." Lea brought a finger up to his temple. "Though I don't remember being…" Axel frowned contemplatively. "I guess you have work to do. Can't have you sitting around and listening to tales of woe-"

"No, carry on." Vanitas gingerly braced against the wall. White chalk outlined mathematical figures and symbols within symbols. "Your psycho-analysis results won't improve until you come to terms with what happened to you." He winced. The hard bench pressed against his battered muscles and he could really do with a potion right now. "And Leon needs you up and running as soon as possible." Below, the Globe map of the universe cranked on its gears. "We have planets to protect and whatever."

A bright flare of light died on screen. Ripples scattered. A highway between the planets shut down.

Land of Dragons imploded. A dark stain marked the fallen planet.

"Why is prosecutor Gavin stalking me?" Sora muttered and examined a can of mushrooms.

He scooted to the side, allowing a small family to pass by before resuming his scrutiny of the ingredient list. At the front of the supermarket, Gavin basked in attention. Shoppers neglected their shopping and gravitated towards him with squeals of delight. Smartphone cameras captured his suave smile while hardcore fans surged against him, offering their arm, a shoulder or their cheek as a canvas for Klavier's signature.

"Because he wants you to attend his concert no matter what," Apollo grumbled and dropped a cup of instant noodles in Sora's basket.

I'm not sure if I'm flattered or irritated to have a rockstar stalking me. "He doesn't have to follow me home!" Sora agitated his scarf.

Herding his associate in a corner when a stampede of fans rushed past, Apollo waited patiently while Sora sedately filled his basket with packets of rice and pasta. "He's got nothing better to do, probably." He rotated his bangle, irritated. "Are you done?" Apollo questioned, "because my bracelet is biting my wrist off."

06:35 p.m.

Los Angeles Residential district

Apartment.

"Seriously, why is prosecutor Gavin in my house?" Sora pulled his hair.

Sunglasses over his eyes, Klavier followed the attorneys all the way to Sora's apartment and smoothly sprawled on the chaise lounge the moment he entered.

Anxiety simmering in his chest, Sora glanced out of the kitchen window. What happened to the Pagoda gate? Roughly an hour ago, an eye searing flare of light spread across the sky and he halted in the middle of a pedestrian crossing, terrified. The orange flare left wisps of light in the air, like the burning trails of a passing comet, and faded. When Sora searched the sky, Olympus hung in the exact same spot but opposite, the gate vanished.

"Achtung!" Gavin exclaimed. "These are some nice clothes you have," he complimented, his easy going grin melting the heat of Sora's slow burning anger. He held up a charcoal black shirt, tiny metal stars spiraling down one side.

"I'm home," Vanitas lethargically opened the door and froze in the entryway. His exhausted complexion lit with a smile. Kicking off his boots, he sprang into the lounge. "No way," he grabbed Sora's necklace, half choking his brother in his excitement, "Klavier Gavin dropped by in our house?"

His fatigue melted, replaced by a fountain of instantaneous energy when the prosecutor flashed him a gratifying smirk.

"Why is he here?" Vanitas whispered while preparing snacks in the kitchen. Limp against the counter, Sora mechanically munched on a packet of shrimp chips. "You," Vanitas fidgeted, "are coming with me to the concert tomorrow, right?" He wiped his hands on a checkered cloth.

Huh? Sora stopped munching.

"My boss asked me to keep an eye on Demyx," Vanitas breathlessly explained, failing to keep the glee out of his voice when his twin crumpled, the signal of compliance. "Great!" He wove out of the kitchen, balancing a tray and Sora trailed him. "We get backstage passes-" a t-shirt smacked into his mouth, "-Oi, watch where you're throwing my stuff!" Vanitas snarled.

The wardrobe hung open and Klavier pulled another Organization XIII, leather tunic. He tossed it on the sofa-bed, spread with a crimson bed sheet stitched with golden emblems. "Won't this look good on Herr Fluffy?" he sized Sora up and the timid man stepped behind his brother. "Your input Herr Forehead?"

On the flatscreen, the Prince of Persia leapt to his death and Apollo gripped the controller tightly, wondering where he went wrong. "Keep me out of this," he grouched and restarted the game from the last save file.

"Herr Clavius, won't you help me ja?" The prosecutor's designer sunglasses dropped to the carpeted floor.

Sora edged towards the television, seeking help from senior Apollo.

"Let me help you strip." Vanitas lunged, driving Sora to the ground for the third time when his brother feebly protested trying on another outfit.

Videogame abandoned, Apollo sipped a can of coke and straddled a chair, safely out of the chaos.

"This is old fashioned." Vanitas pulled the clothes off in one smooth swipe, he tossed a jacket and his twin clutched the heavy fabric urgently to his chest, hiding his scars. "You have nice arms now," Vanitas said, "how about a sleeveless jacket?"

His brother irritably shook his head.

"Wear something tight for a change." Vanitas held a ripped shirt. "You deserve to show off the results of your gym workout."

You can prance around naked if you want. Sora endured Vanitas buttoning up a stretchy, crimson edged shirt till his neck. I'm sure no one will mind.

Lounging on the sofa like a director, Gavin brightened when Vanitas nudged Sora into view. "Perhaps you should try a career in modeling?" Klavier tugged his short, platinum blonde hair. "Herr Clavius did a great job, wundervoll!"

Perhaps you should get out of my house now.

Gavin rose and stretched, the G shaped pendant on his chest winking in the scarlet rays of a setting sun. Clothes scattered the lounge room floor. A shirt tethered on the edge of the chandelier and a pair of cargo pants hung on the back of a chair. Gloves of numerous designs lay on the table, one studded with blunted, metal spikes. "I had fun," he earnestly stated. "It's good when brothers get along," he murmured to Apollo, who nodded. "Ach... guess I need to return to work now." The twins bickered, Vanitas quailing under the hiss of words. "We're leaving now," Klavier called loudly and they turned, acknowledging him with a wave. "Make sure you get front row seats at the concert," he called as Justice shoved him out of the tiny apartment. "I'll be expecting you baby!"

Glowering when the glamorous prosecutor finally left him in peace, Sora nervously twisted the fabric of Vanitas' shirt while the younger twin tidied the apartment. His mood surged back and forth, like a tempest buffering the seas, anxious one second and irritated the next.

However.

His brother hummed happily, flinging clothes back into his wardrobe. Everyone will be there. I think I'll enjoy it for a change.

Phoenix

Mid-morning

KBWA, Infirmary

His consciousness returned, even if he could not speak. A person visited him religiously, spending each waking moment glued to the stool beside his bed.

Vivid dreams assaulted Lea. Stars spangled the sky, one larger than most. A single one peeled off the heavens and fell, spinning, elongating and the shaft of a Keyblade emerged in his hands.

He wrapped his hands around the comforting hilt and opened his eyes. Lea's breath caught in his chest and his heart sped up. I have a heart, he thought. Blood pounded in his veins and beat in his temples. He swallowed the rush of dormant emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he croaked. The hatred festering in his chest ever since he walked on his co-worker murdering Roxas, ebbed. Saix cut his hair, and a painful ache stabbed the pit of Lea's stomach.

His...friend? Enemy? Simply gaped.

"What?" Lea barked. "You weren't expecting me to recover?" His eyes prickled. "Failed to finish me off did you?"

Why did it hurt so much to breath?

"Traitor!" Lea spat, his stomach heaving at the way Saix glanced at him. Eyes filled with disbelief. Sadness.

The Keyblade flashed into existence and Axel drew comfort from the metal warming his palm. Saix is a traitor. He killed Roxas and Xion. Fringes of hate gripped Lea's heart. But why can't I hate him? Or be angry?

Why am I grateful to him for saving me?

A/N: The dream Lea had while getting the Keyblade is the same one Sora had when getting his. My original draft had a different title for Lea but I lost it and for the life of me, couldn't recall what it was. It wasn't Phoenix.

Please read and review; help Axel become a Keyblade warrior!