A/N: Stumped on the Trinity chapter right now, so I've decided to do this one first. Actually, I'm still worked up on Akuroku fics right now... they are so damn cute! But Namixas is way more cuter. Gotta get the happiness out of my system... Insane amounts of fluffiness ahead. You have been warned.

Want happy thoughts? Read this branch. Want to get depressed? Read the Trinity branch (which, by the way, is getting posted a bit later).

Disclaimer:No matter how hard I wish for it, no dice. Kingdom Hearts still doesn't belong to me.

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X: Too Late

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Naminé giggled inanely. Again. How she managed to giggle and hiccup at the same time, Roxas had no idea.

"You will get one hell of a hangover when you wake up." Roxas stated as he shifted her hand over her shoulder and practically (there's the practically because we don't want to think of him as anything other than a gentleman, don't we?) threw her into her bed. Naminé sure was different when drunk, he could confirm that.

"hic Don't worry hic I won't hic bite hic you--"

He shook his head as he sat on his bed on the opposite side of the room. Apparently, he had very low tolerance for alcohol in general, because right now, his head felt like it had been caught in one of Xaldin's tornadoes, then in one of Marluxia's Swirling-Pink-Blizzards-of-Death (which reminds him--he still has to kill Demyx later for giving his mind--okay.). Or maybe Luxord had spiked his shotglass with a bit more vodka. The second option sounded better.

"Go to sleep," he said, still staring at the blonde girl as she fumbled for her blanket. Fumbling for a six-by-five white sheet of wool was a bad sign--she really was drunk. He sighed and crossed the room, intent on helping Naminé go to sleep (because, really, the hiccups were getting irritating).

"Heehee hic tucking me hic in! You're just hic like a hic mom!" She giggled as Roxas drew up her blankets to her chin. He resisted the urge to kiss her on the forehead. DiZ...you are so lucky you're already dead.

"Really. Those hiccups have to go."

She pouted at him. "hic Make hic them go hic away then."

His eyebrows furrowed together. Maybe his forehead was already permanently creased from all that furrowing his eyebrows did. "Uh," he paused, kneeling down beside her bed. He had never actually had hiccups before, so he had never bothered to find out how to stop them.

I hate Luxord right now.

She poked him in the forehead and giggled. Funny how thirty shots of vodka can turn a perfectly mature fifteen-year-old into a horrible imitation of a furiously blushing five-year old. With hiccups.

"hic!" She turned her head to face him, and big, blue, hauntingly blue eyes stared at him.

"Agh. Nam, I have no idea how to get rid of your stupid--"

His eyes widened as her eyes came closer. A lot closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and that was how Roxas knew that she was really dead drunk.

Never, in her right mind, would she actually kiss him.

Right?

Roxas would've paused to think about that (and furrowed his eyebrows even more in the process, really, he'd get early wrinkles that way), about how this was all wrong, about borrowing Sora's feelings about Kairi, about Lexaeus' secret white sauce recipe, and about Nobody life in general, but right now, his mind was kind of blank. Except for the feeling of Naminé's lips pressed against his.

Hm. Maybe he wouldn't have to kill Luxord after all.

--------------------

"And you let him out of your sight!?" Xemnas roared (and in the process releasing copious amounts of spit which should've been relief to his parched throat), standing up so quickly that the marble chair almost tipped over. He watched the King through narrowed eyes as the mouse slowly backed away. Height really was an advantage.

"Sora can hold out--at least until the guests leave the Castle, then I'd--"

"King Mickey! Do you know the power of darkness?"

Mickey stared at him with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. "I sure do."

Ignoring the twitching of his fingers (not to mention his right eyelid, it always had the unfortunate liking to twitch when he was stressed out), Xemnas summoned his lightsabers (or as Demyx terms it, Amazingly-Red-Glowsticks-Of-Superiority-And-Death), gripping them tightly. Dealing with a Keyblade Master was hard enough, but dealing with his Heartless on the loose? He had not expected the Plan to go horribly wrong like this. Sparkling light brought him back to reality as the King summoned his Reverse Keyblade, possibly because of his sabers.

He glared at the King. "We need to find him. Now."

"Right," he replied tersely. "You do not kill him when you find him, though."

"I am not insane enough to kill our only chance of capturing Kingdom Hearts."

The King's mouth had set itself into a thin line of disapproval. Xemnas cut him off before he could launch into another tirade about the dangers of toying with light and darkness, because right now, there's a very dangerous Wielder out there.

Not that he cared for the people he might come across, hell, Antiform could take all their hearts for easier retrieval. He feared for Sora's safety, what good was all the Heartless when there was no-one to release their pretty (not to mention pink and sparkly) hearts?

"We search. We meet here."

With that, gripping his sabers at the ready, he stepped into the Corridors and out of sight.

--------------------

"Oh, hell no. I just did not do that." Axel backed away, horrified at what he had done.

He. Kissed. Larxene.

The blonde stared up at him, eyes half-closed (with sleepiness, or with pleasure, or with just plain dizziness from the alcohol, or with-- let's not speculate, Axel's mind is pretty chaotic right now). Her mouth was still slightly open.

"Sorry!" he blurted out, but he knew that no amount of apology would prevent Larxene from sticking him full of kunais when her hangover was over and done with. Bewildered, he backed away slowly until the back of his black-coated knees hit the side of his bed, and he sat slowly. Slowly was the key, because sudden noises might just wake Larxene up from her alcohol-induced stupor, and he might not live (or exist, yes, exist) until morning. He swallowed painfully.

Larxene finally moved, more like twitched, really.

His fingers itched to summon his chakrams; even in the wee hours of the morning he had learned to always be on the lookout for attacks.

Especially from thunder-headed ones.

-who was amazing at french-kissing-

He banged his head a few times into his pillow (never mind that the intended effect of shocking pain had gone--but using the wall would fall under "Sudden Obnoxious Noise' category, and that is something he'd rather not do), trying to get that thought (of Larxene making those funny little noi--maybe banging his head into the wall sounded like a good idea after all) out of his head and possibly, out of the window.

-for a priestess she sure is good at kiss--

He winced as he bit his lip pretty badly, judging from the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He gingerly wiped away the offending red liquid with his trusty glove (never mind wherever it had been, later he'll throw both gloves with Demyx's load of laundry). Odd. As far as he could feel, his lips had no wound whatsoever. So where the hell did that blood come from? Where was the last--

Axel's eyes suddenly popped open and he sat up. "Larxene!"

"Mmah?" She glanced at him, eyes still half-closed and disposition still very inebriated. Axel was very thankful for the alcohol overdose at this point; it kept her usually violent temperament under control, thusly preventing him from suffering a very painful death by kunais.

-woah! look! her lips so red even under this moonlight-

"Your--" he started awkwardly. "Your lip--I think it's bleeding."

"Uhhuh. I knew that," she said, apparently licking her lips to get rid of the blood, wincing (very audibly, Axel might say, since the distance between their beds was about six feet) as she did.

Axel stared at her. A thought hit him (with the combined force of Saïx's claymore and one of Roxas' marble-breaking tackles) as he observed Larxene, and he choked on his spit (which was en route to his dry throat to replenish whatever quantities lost to the blonde, until it decided to take a shortcut through his lungs).

Lips + Tongue + Pressure Kiss.

-don't forget flexibility! Flexibility is all that matters! hahahah-

Bleeding wounded lips + Tongue + Pressure Pain.

Sighing, Axel stood up and made his way to number Twelve's side once again, now trying to keep his hormones in check. He supposed he hadn't tasted the blood since her lips were all smushed into his. Larxene stared up at him, blood all gone from the one-inch (surprisingly teeth-shaped) gash on her lower lip, dried tears streaking her cheeks. At least she wasn't crying now.

-uh, since when didja care about Larx's feelings?--

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." His throat threatened an immediate roadblock as his voice cracked (actually crumbled like one of his failed cookie creations) on the word 'you'. His inner voice was protesting vehemently. His rational side was trying to get it to shut up; since when did he have an inner voice, anyway?

She closed her eyes as her mouth curved into a slight smile. "You forget. Pain is my specialty. It doesn't bother me to get paid back."

"Oh." Relief flooded Axel's mind and seemed to drown his Inner Voice, washing away all traces of Larxene-induced thoughts. He smirked, returning to his normal, pyromaniac, annoying self. "You are such a sadist."

"Hmmmah--"

His mouth involuntarily curled into a smile of his own as he saw Larxene had already fallen asleep, her chest rising and falling with steady, rhythmic breaths.

-she looks so pretty and beautiful and peaceful when she's sleeping she's like an angel-

As he collapsed on his bed (didn't bother to pull up the blanket; that's how he was, he never felt the need for them blankets; he's a pyro, for crying out loud) he decided that the first thing he'll do in the morning was ask Roxas advice on how to get rid of voices stuck in his head.

-love? do you love? no you don't it can't be love you're just remembering...-

He shut his eyes and finally lost himself to the aftereffects of fifteen shots of hard alcohol, not really anticipating the massive hangover Larxene was bound to have when they woke up.

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"King Mickey where are you searching?" Xemnas hissed, seeing the King approach. He had portalled to almost every likely area that the brunette Wielder would likely end up. Larxene was nowhere in sight; where was she when he needed her to actually do something, not play in the Orchestra or--- Most likely, Larxene would not be moving out of Axel's room. In fact, he's thinking that he should confine her there (although he may end up with a very pissed off blonde and a dead redhead).

He had just looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows had still not returned from their furrowed position. As far as he knew, shadows did not move in Disney Castle. Mickey cleared his throat.

"I have already done a sweep of the main Castle---"

He leaned down and saw the King recoil slightly. "Send more men, Majesty."

"You know I can't do that!" he said through gritted teeth (and Xemnas certainly did not like the way the grip on his Keyblade tightened), returning his glower. "The Court will kill me!"

Well, it was his fault that they had a torn Wielder on the loose. He told him not to try getting rid of darkness, yes he did. "As opposed to what they'll do when they see Sora dead."

"Silence!" The King bellowed, jabbing the Keyblade in his direction, looking positively fed up. "You do not talk to me that way!"

Xemnas, stunned, let the King push past him and watched him sprint farther down the corridor. He portalled out, determined to get wherever the King was going first, because he had the nastiest feeling that the shadows in these corridors had a capital S. He stepped out into the Courtyard, and saw something he was definitely not going to forget.

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"Mmmhmm," Naminé murmured happily as Roxas abruptly broke the kiss off. She stared at him with happy interest as his eyebrows furrowed. In fact, if the Castle crashed down around them, she'd be watching it crumble happily. Such were the wonders of getting drunk. Hm. Maybe the fact that she had just kissed Roxas, and that he had kissed her back, added to the

"Nam," he said in a shocked voice. "You're hot!"

"I suppose I am," she slurred, giggling again at the wave of scarlet that rushed up his face. She seemed to be spending half her breaths giggling tonight.

"Erh, no, I don't mean, uh, I mean, you are hot, I mean--- you're burning hot!" he stammered, pulling off his gloves and feeling her forehead. Surprisingly, she thought it was Roxas' hand that felt ice-cold. She hissed at the contact.

"You have a fever."

"I feel perfectly fine," she said, although the burning sensation in her eyelids said otherwise (as in Naminé-don't-be-so-stupidly-stubborn-you-have-a-killer-fever). She beamed up at him, noticing in her inebriated state that spasmodic jerking of her torso no longer punctuated her every syllable. "My hiccups are gone!"

Roxas studied her intently, the back of his hand occasionally touching her forehead and feeling under her chin. "Uh, okay, your hiccups are gone, but with the body temp you have right now, you're supposed to be on fire. No more drinking contests for you," he said thoughtfully, leaning forward on his arms.

"Awww---Roxie, it was so much fun---ahh." She groaned, ceiling (decorated with the Nobody symbol, of course, Xemnas had seen to that, she suspected that if he hadn't been a Nobody he'd either be a fashion designer, interior designer, or most likely a politician; he had the innate ability to dream up grand flawless schemes and effortlessly screw them up(a/n do not sue me; you shall get nothing)) spinning faster than usual.

"Nam!" he exclaimed, alarm evident in his voice.

"I can't get sick, I'm not even alive," she whined, her toes curling under the white blanket as her stomach did another involuntary backflip.

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Whatever, but as your roomate and best friend (was it just her, or did Roxas grimace at that?), not to mention the target of your hangover later, I have to do something--" He took her ice-cold hand into his warm ones (somehow, Naminé's mind had twisted the temperature around in impossible ways--or maybe the side of her reasoning undrenched by alcohol took control) "Curaga."

She stiffened and clutched at her blankets as the spell settled its cool embrace over her; making her vision a little more clearer and her head pound a little less harder.

"T-Thanks," she said, voice a little less slurred this time. "Uh--"

"Curaga."

"No, really, Roxas-"

"Curaga."

Her head was starting to reboot itself; right now, it felt like it had just gotten out of very turbulent waters. Her stomach had started to calm down too; it had now settled for bending backwards instead of backflips. More importantly, she didn't feel the urge to slur her words together.

"You still look sick," he panted slightly from casting the most powerful healing spell he could (supposedly---unless he became a White Mage without her knowledge) use three times in a row. And--"Curaga."

Her mind had decided to think coherent thoughts (such as what the HELL were you thinking! Kissing Roxas! and darn he's a good kisser and stop thinking about him! and many other rational things, all of which her mind had vehemently denied having any connection to Roxas himself) as the fourth spell took effect. Her toes relaxed and her fingers released the blankets held in a deathgrip.

"Curaga."

"Roxas, you idiot," she breathed, all traces and aftereffects of too much alcohol gone from her system (note to self (a)never, ever, trust Luxord and his games ever again, especially when it involved large quantities of his secret (patented) whiskey stash, and (b) do some damage control in the morning). The blonde kneeling beside her bed looked drained; he was panting just like the way he always did after a training session with Axel and Larxene. Which not only sounded bad, but also looked bad. A ribbon of sweat dripped down the side of his head.

"Go to sleep, Naminé. You need some rest," he said stoically, looking as if his elbow was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into her side of bed.

"Mhmm. You should talk," she said softly, grateful for the healing spells.

"You need rest, I'm telling you. It's past midnight. Sleep. You'll feel the alcohol in your system acting up in the morning."

"You rest first," Naminé said, sighing at the pointlessness of the conversation. Wielders and their legendary stubborness.

His brows furrowed, staring at her with his lower lip jutting out. The poster boy for stubborness. "I'm not sleeping until after you do."

Which practically guaranteed the fact that he would eventually fall asleep first. And he did, with the hand of his makeshift arm pillow clutching hers tightly, strands of spiky blonde hair brushing against her fingers. Suddenly, her vision just acquired a whole lot of blonde.

She may only love Roxas because of Kairi's feelings, and he might only love her because of Sora's feelings, but still, whether they be friends or lovers or anything else--

She closed her eyes and relaxed, letting her breathing fall in rhythm with his steady ones. She curled her fingers around his own, and he unconsciously did the same. Whatever happens in the morning--whether they forget what happened, or if they never speak to each other again, whether they treat each other as friends and nothing more, she'd just treasure this night forever.

After all, whatever happens---he'd always hold a special place--not only in her nonexistent heart, but also in her entire being.

"Goodnight," she whispered. She stared up at the ceiling for the lack of anything better to do; sleep won't come to her at this rate, not after five consecutive Curagas just decimated her sense of fatigue (and her drunkenness, thank heavens). Roxas started snoring lightly, mumbling something that remotely sounded like death threats for an already dead DiZ.

An idea hit her. Smiling to herself (and congratulating her brain for coming up with such a Plan that it was ambitious and achievable at the same time, unlike Xemnas' Plans and Vexen's cooking skills), she wriggled her hand free of Thirteen's grasp, careful not to wake him. She sat up gingerly and threw her blanket over his shoulders.

"Sleep tight."

Naminé portalled out.

--------------------

Xemnas stood speechless.

Something that looked like a boy who had taken a bath in squid ink was shouting ""King Mick! Too late, buddy-boy's all gooone!" while forcing something that looked disturbingly like a pink, sparkling, shiny shard of glass into his arm. The Dark Keyblade lay beside him, its heartless (so fitting for the situation, he thought, overriding his mind's question of how and why) keychain glinting in the moonlight. The boy had his back to him and was currently laughing at King Mickey, who had come from the other side of the Courtyard. Apparently all the blood had drained from the King's face.

Wait.

"Buddy-boy's all...gone?" he murmured, straining to see the boy (who, due to his squid-ink-like color, blended into the shadows pretty well.

Oh. Hell no.

He gasped involuntarily and froze on the spot as his gaze fell on another figure lying (in something that suspiciously looked like either blood or chocolate syrup) under the one who was laughing. Someone who looked a lot like Sora. Somebody who was Sora.

His stomach did a 1080-degree flip. His mind was telling him to move right NOW, but his feet were going -oh no the Wielder's dead there goes another grand Plan to reclaim Kingdom Hearts-.

Antiform (he presumed the squid-ink boy to be the Antiform the King was talking about) then did something that made his stomach flip another 360 degrees (that made for a very queasy stomach): he raised his hand (and his perfectly sharp nails glinted for a split second) and plunged it into the Wielder's back, right where the heart was supposed to be. Surprisingly, the pool of blood underneath Sora did not widen, which was a good sign.

Wait again.

That meant the Wielder had no more blood left to bleed.

Antiform suddenly pressed himself to the ground, and Xemnas portalled out just in time to dodge a rapidly spinning Reverse Keyblade. Mickey shot a look at him as he caught the Keyblade; Xemnas nodded imperceptibly, readying his sabers.

Whatever this thing is, if the Wielder's already dead (say goodbye to Plan II-B) , he'd pay.

"Xemnas! Now!" the King yelled just as the antiform rose up from where he had been lying a while ago. Xemnas chucked both sabers at the back of his head; it hit the target dead on.

His eyes widened; two sabers were enough to burn a hole through marble, but Antiform only rubbed the back of his pitch-black hair, as if having sustained a large bruise rather than a deadly blow to the head. He turned his sickly yellow Heartless-eyes on him, and Xemnas narrowed his own eyes.

"King Mick! Brought company, eh?" he shouted joyfully, rubbing his hands together as his mouth drew back into a grin, revealing teeth not much unlike fangs. "Mr.-Shiny-Rebonded-Silvery-Hair, huh?"

Xemnas felt momentarily flattered; he had never rebonded his hair or anything of the sort, his hairstyles were au naturel (except for maybe a teeny bit of hair gel, but that was it). But his mind dictated that no, this was not the appropriate time to discuss hair-straightening techniques, he had to focus on a dead Wielder right now.

Antiform's gleeful voice echoed in his head. "Too late!"

It hit him: the sparkly pink shard of glass was most certainly not glass; he didn't need his Other's memories of experiments to tell him what it really was.

A shard of heart.

'King Mickey...what the hell have you done?"

"Wielder!" he yelled, summoning a large circle of sabers around them, ready to smash into Antiform as soon as King Mickey got out of range.

"Wielder-kid's dead! Thanks, so many thanks to the Majestic Mouse---ha!" Antiform laughed, picking up the Dark Keyblade (ooh, almost forgot about that) and tentatively swinging it. Xemnas gritted his teeth and waved a gloved hand down, making the sabes smash into each other. Thankfully, King Mickey had the sense to duck, but so did Antiform., who had just decided that Sora's back made a nice display stand, judging from the way the Keyblade stuck out from his back.

His mind screamed something like A HUGE KEY IS STUCK IN SORA'S BACK AND HE IS BLEEDING HIS GUTS OUT. THIS IS NOT A GOOD SIGN. ANTIFORM HAS HIS FACE SCRUNCHED UP RIGHT NOW. THIS IS NOT A GOOD SIGN. SHADOWS ARE APPEARING AND ARE CONSIDERING TO BITE YOU IN PLACES YOU WOULD NEVER WISH YOU HAD. THIS IS NOT A GOOD SIGN. Yes, definitely not good signs. Thank you very much, Mind, Xemnas would be nothing without you, not that that would have much improvement over his current state of Nobody.

Two can play at this game, he thought, using all of his summoning capabilities, of course, to summon all the Sorcerers he could summon as he dodged Shadow attacks (aside from the new formation they were trying, they also looked like they were actually planning to do what his mind had said they would do, that was an unpleasant thought) all around. Sora was looking quite dead at this point, and the Shadows were leaving little bloody footprints all over the Courtyard.

The bewildered Sorcerers had answered his call instantly (and woe to them if they didn't) and were now practically annihilating the Shadow and Neoshadow horde, and King Mickey was attacking Antiform with abandon; it seemed like getting the Key to Kingdom Hearts killed had turned on a violence switch on the King or something.

He summoned a ring of sabers again; and if Antiform tried to escape through the Corridors, Xemnas made sure he'll hunt him down (the image of a Keyblade sticking out of Organization XIII's savior's back did wonders for motivation). However, as he whipped around, Antiform suddenly grinned at him as he sent the King's Keyblade spinning.

"Nuh-uh, Xemnie (his eyelid twitched uncontrollably), you can't hurt me!" he taunted.

Xemnas snarled as he raised a hand to implode the sabers. "You bas--" he froze.

A pitch-black hand wrenched the Dark Keyblade out of Sora's back (and sent blood splattering as he took it out), and Antiform leaned forward, toppling over Sora. Laughing (more like cackling) he spread his arms and fell. Not on Sora, but into him.

And Sora gasped. He even managed to choke out one word.

"...life?"

It even sounded like a question.

Now, if it had been any other time, that fact would have been highly insignificant. But considering the fact that a dead Wielder had just gasped (and looked like he was choking on his own blood right now), only one word can describe it, in Xemnas' opinion.

Wow.

He didn't consider it as a miracle, since he had seen Demyx in worse shape (he had no less than a doxen kunais stuck in random parts of his body when Larxene had decided to train in a foul mood), but there was a huge difference: Some Nobodies can stand much, much more damage (and pain) than Somebodies. Had something to do with a heart, and Xemnas would explain, but right now, he'd rather not.

Sora was alive.

King Mickey fell to his knees, and tears sparkled at the edge of his eyes.

Sora was alive...and would die soon if he bleeds out any more.

Thank you, Mind, once again.

He knelt down beside the now-spasming Sora, feeling cold blood soak through his coat. A large slash yawned at him from the rip of fabric that was once the Wielder's vest, and he could actually see a flash of bone. Uhm. Broken, submerged in blood-bone.

"Majesty," he said urgently. His voice seemed to snap the King out of his tearful euphoria that Sora was alive. "Majesty, do you have curative potions with you? Magic? Anything?"

"N-no---don't move him, it'll injure him further--"

Xemnas stared at the King, bewildered; what else could be worse than being stabbed by a three-foot key and then losing about a gallon of your blood?

Sora groaned weakly. If he survives the night, that'd be a miracle.

"Portal him out of here and save his life." The King said through gritted teeth. "Ask your comrades for help."

"I am taking him to the Castle That--"

"Do anything, please," he squeaked, staring down at the bloody Keyblade Master.

Xemnas hesitated. "But what about the Knighting? The Princess? Wielder Riku? The--"

"I'll cover for you," he said hastily, getting to his feet and picking up a blood-spattered Reverse Keyblade. "Keep him out of sight until he has recovered fully, then send him to me."

"I can't guarantee that." Especially if the boy in question was Sora; once the Organization set their eyes on him it's guaranteed he'll be in worse shape than this.

"Just save him, GO!" King Mickey said desperately before spinning on his heels and sprinting away. Maybe the sight of Sora made him feel too guilty for comfort..?

He wouldn't know, since he can't feel. Yes.

The brunette made a gurgling noise. Xemnas called four Sorcerers and ordered them (actually, he didn't have to, since the Nobodies were more than willing to help the kid who brought them back from darkness, but since he's the Superior, he ordered them to anyway) to carefully lift Sora off the blood-soaked concrete. Blood dripped everywhere as they turned the Wielder over.

Xemnas winced; his eyes had already clouded over yet he was still rasping weakly for breath.

"Xem--" he lifted his hand a fraction of an inch before he passed out.

A thought suddenly occured to him as he stepped into the Corridors, and he cursed under his breath. Antiform; while inside Sora, was untouchable.

The darkness had just found absolute sanctuary.

--------------------

Knock knock knock---

The wooden door suddenly swung open, and his hand froze in mid-knock. Not a very good impression, but right now, he had much more pressing issues on his mind.

"Good morning, I'd--"

The blonde teenager who answered the door glared at him. "Stay away from my sister; you've hurt her enough. Go away."

"That's exactly why I'm here, I'd really like to apologize," he bit his lip, trying to keep his tears from spilling out; he had only realized that he missed her. A lot.

"You're too late." The teen said bitterly. "She's already retaken her vows."

"S-she already h-has?" he choked out.

"You were the reason why," he replied angrily before slamming the door in his face.

"N-no--"

Zexion's eyes snapped open, sleepiness gone entirely. He blinked as the fogginess of sleep cleared; he had no recollection of going down into the Dining hall.

"Awake, are ya?" Demyx peered at him over his sitar.

He stared around the room and sighed, the sight of twentysomething shotglasses clustered in front of him jogging his memory. "Demyx, how long since I fell asleep?"

"'bout an hour and a half," the blonde grinned. "You missed one hell of a showdown..."

"I'm glad I have," he muttered under his breath. His head pounded, and it felt like Saïx had decided to use his head to test whether his claymore was hard enough. "I need to rest."

"Suit yourself," Demyx said offhandedly, twirling his finger around and making the miniature army of miniature water-forms on the table run around in circles. He laughed shrilly.

Zexion sighed and portalled out into his room.

--------------------

"There, quick."

The Sorcerers gently laid down the limp Sora onto the bed. Xemnas winced as the blood soaked readily through the white sheets; his bed would never be white again. He walked to the Wielder's side and stared down at him.

"Dismissed," he said quietly, and the Nobodies vanished. Sora was breathing quite erratically, and his shirt, not to mention his vest, once black, was now a somewhat dark shade of maroon. The coppery smell of blood filled the air.

Get Vexen and his potions. Fast.

He was in the process of opening the Corridors when something very cold shot out and gripped his wrist tightly.

"Must...get rid...darkness---" Sora gasped, his hand holding onto Xemnas in a deathgrip.

"I need to get help. You shall die if--"

"Y-yes, I will, I need to--"

Xemnas stood there, flabbergasted, because (a) for someone who got stabbed in the heart, Sora was sure putting his vocal cords to amazingly good use and (b) Sora had just said that he actually has to die...?

"Antiform," he rasped out, his dead eyes staring up at him.

"You will get Antiform under control, just let me get Vexen and--"

"No! Xemnas, he dies if I do, and I m-must do my duty---"

Wow. He was speaking in complete sentences now. And smiling.

Wait. Smiling. His guts are all over the place and he's smiling.

"Payback." Sora's hand released his wrist, and the Dark Keyblade coalesced into his open hand.

Xemnas stood, frozen (this night had a lot of frozen moments). Then what Sora was intending to do hit him. He was about to kill his Heartless. By stabbing himself. Suicide. He was insane.

Sora drew in a breath. "I made wrong decisions. Now I'm about to undo them in my own way." He coughed up blood, wiping it off with his free hand. "I'm sorry for everything. Tell Kai and Riku that."

"Wiel--"

"For the greater good," he paused, raising the Keyblade, sharp end down. He smiled again weakly.

"I sacrifice...my heart."

Xemnas' voice then chose this most opportunate time to reappear. A scream tore out of his throat as he watched the Key stab himself.

"Wielder, no!"

A flash of light blinded him, and something resonated, making a shockwave that threw Xemnas across the room and slammed him into the opposing wall. He heard the Keyblade crash to the marble floor, and with it, his consciousness and his Plan for reclaiming Kingdom Hearts.

He was too late after all.

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I am so sorry I got this posted so late, between three fics and my upcoming midterms, things have been a lot hectic lately. Anyway, if you want more of the Namixas stuff, I have this fic Questioning that's Romance/Humor. That's where, together with this fic, I vent out my happiness before I write Trinity.

Uhm, is that a cliffie? I don't think so.

Guys. Why has nobody bothered to stop me doing reply reviews? I have just learned that replying is actually banned in this site...so sorry, admin people... Aggh.

You still have cookies, though. Many thanks to darkdude71, Skitty 2004, emi lulu, Ellie0223, Myrr, and Namine's Heart. Keep on rockin'!

I think the Trinity fic will be up tomorrow, because right now, my wrists are already hurting from excessive typing. No quote, because anything I type might spoil the next chapter.

Read, review, and flame if you want to. Or if you're feeling benevolent, just review.