For a being that wasn't supposed to feel, paranoia bit down upon his nerves just as intensely as upon those of any other Mr. Smith who punched a time card every day and wasn't plotting the takeover of The-Grand-Universe-And-Everything-In-It. That was their goal this month, right? He could never be entirely sure; he didn't pay attention at the meetings or the water cooler conversations, although he might like to have a pool going with Demyx as to the ultimate results of their little ambiguous venture for Kingdom Hearts. The fairy tales pitted the odds against them, so much so that Axel would probably find himself betting for the other team. At least then he'd be a rich - albeit disintegrated - man.
The chuckle that followed the thought reverberated off the hollow walls of the Hall of Empty Melodies and flung itself back at him with a vengeance, striking his ears as something bitter and entirely not his style. His chest heaved upward for the ceiling in a sigh from where he sprawled on his back in the middle of the floor. Great, maybe Roxas was rubbing off on him. Then again, he wouldn't be lounging here and getting in touch with his inner marble floor if that weren't already the case. Another snicker, and this time, no echo. He hadn't been looking at the walls – perhaps they'd removed themselves while he was preoccupied? He was, after all, a firm believer in existence through vision. If something stood plainly in front of him, clearly it existed. If he couldn't see it, it didn't exist.
It was, up until now, the attitude he'd taken with Sora. If he couldn't see Sora, which most of the time he couldn't, there was no need for the kid to exist. He hadn't proved to be a threat in the past, not until Marluxia had decided to intervene with his flighty ideals of overthrowing Xemnas and becoming Supreme Ruler of Everything Ever. Sigh. And that was the rub, wasn't it? Sora might have been thick enough to forget about the Organization entirely if he weren't running in circles through the hallways of Castle Oblivion right now, having his memories tossed in a blender by some blond starving artist with a stick figure fetish. Now Sora knew of them. It was only a matter of time until he and Roxas found out about each other and their somewhat obvious connection and Axel's semblance-of-life was sent off the deep end. He could look into those eyes and see an empty shell of Roxas, completely untainted. Or was Roxas the shell of Sora? Axel had thought he'd known the answer. Now he wasn't so certain.
All of this notwithstanding, none of this would have been too much of a problem for him on a personal level, anyway, if Roxas didn't hold some value to him. When had that happened? Why had Roxas become such an essential complement to his almost-life that he was fretting so much about this? Being the way he was, Axel wouldn't so much have batted an eyelash if any other of the thirteen were about to be consumed by a too-naïve-to-be-believeable brunette. Why did the thought of Roxas disappearing make his chest tighten and ready his hands to claw at whatever he had left?
He sat up, frowning. Perhaps that was it. Roxas was all he had. The heart he didn't feel he owned. Roxas filled that void inside him.
It almost made Marluxia's cause seem worthwhile. Of Mice And Making The Best Of It, as it were.
His revelations, however, were interrupted by a gentle coughing at the opposite end of the great chasm of the room, causing him to flinch a little in surprise. Luxord. So unlike him to say anything to announce himself – he could've been watching for the last five minutes with little remorse. While Zexion pawed around in people's heads, Luxord only ever observed them. Perhaps that was the only difference between a gambler and a scientist. The gambler waits for the hand with confidence, while the scientist is trying to predict his odds or change the outcome.
"I'd say something trite concerning your usual dislike of this room, but we both know that wouldn't yield any sort of appreciable explanation for why you're here," commented Number Ten as almost a passing remark, although Axel scowled. Never mind – maybe Luxord could observe people's thoughts just by looking at them.
"Napping. My snoring makes such an awesome echoing sound that I figured I'd make a chorus out of it."
"Snoring is nasal – it doesn't echo. He's looking for you outside, if you wondered."
Another twinge of annoyance made itself evident in a twitch of Axel's lip. If there was a second-best to Saix on the hatred scale, this guy would claim the title. Luxord played as if he knew more than a few details about his relationship with Roxas, but how much of that was a bluff? Given that the man's expression had seemingly frozen in a poker face years ago, one couldn't really trust a word he said. And Axel's own poker face was more of a window than anything.
"Who?"
"Too slow. You know who I'm talking about."
Where was a bit of kerosene when he needed it?
"Whatever you say. Why're you worried about him finding me, anyway?" Luxord seemed never to need to ask a question. It grated on Axel's nerves like nothing else.
"I'm not. You are."
He always seemed to know the goddamn answers, too.
"… Your point?"
The Gambler of Fate chuckled gently, followed shortly by a snort from Axel and an accompanying pause. The bastard was right. Nasal noises didn't echo.
"You're not thinking hard enough. You're so attached to the almighty cause that you're overlooking the simple solution."
"And what's that, wise guy?" Ugh. Over-eager answer.
"Can you meet what you can't see, Axel?"
Axel sometimes hated that Organization members could make clichéd smoke-and-mirrors exeunts as Luxord just had. He hated even more that the questions Luxord asked were even more aggravating and on-the-button than his answers. And he hated most that he couldn't decipher Luxord's motives behind the implication.
Roxas couldn't meet Sora if Sora didn't exist. Out of sight, out of mind, out of his life. Which was more important, Kingdom Hearts or his Surrogate Heart?
He finally heaved himself into a stand. The answer was too simple.