A/N: ...sorry peoples for the wait. Semestral break is approaching, and of course, this translates to tons of schoolwork. Don't worry, though, I'm ending this thing probably before the end of October. On with the fic.

Fluff. Useless fluff. Don't worry--it'll all be over soon.

Warning though. A suggestive scene somewhere in there. Flame me if you want to.

Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts, I'd be making KH3 right now.

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XVII: Revert

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

Dizziness was something Roxas never really relished feeling.

Which explained why he was feeling particularly frustrated right now. His head spun impossibly, and he weakly rummaged through his bag for his bottle of water. He sniffed, ignoring Riku and Tidus bickering with each other good-naturedly.

He might've caught a cold from the Gummi Ship airconditioning, because he gave his fairly thick overjacket to Naminé.

Not that he's blaming her.

No.

Anyway...

After the reunion and a promise of ice cream later, Roxas and Naminé had gone straightaway to the dormitories, not needing a guide. He had already memorized the dorms, anyway--he had memories of the dorm, supposedly, created by Naminé. After dropping off the flaxen-haired girl at her room down the hallway, he shuffled into his own assigned room, only to be greeted by a hyper Tidus and a sleeping Wakka. Pssh. Good thing Riku had just arrived (escorted by a smug Hayner) in their room--it gave Tidus a diversion to work off his energy, which was deadly in large amounts.

He supposed Zexion had arranged for him and Riku to automatically share a room--it was easier to keep an eye on them.

He sneezed forlornly, finally finding the bottle of water and taking a long draught from it.

Instead of a field trip, it seemed they had gone on a training program; Sora attacking King Mickey had seen to that. Twilight Town's usually laid-back citizens (from what Roxas could remember, anyway) were now pale-faced and nervous. The Destiny Islands and Disney attacks had seen to that. The festival had been cancelled on accounts of security issues...which left them with generally nothing to do--except to spar with the Twilight Academy students and exchange battle tips.

Argh...he was in no shape to battle now. He had no idea he could be undermined by such a simple thing as a cold.

If Nobodies decided to attack, well, he could just order them away, whoever summoned them. As a Nobody who wielded light, Roxas held sway over Sora.

Heartless was a completely different issue. Well, a few Slayers would take care of that, but it was too risky; if the people here found out the Slayers were acting weird and following his command...they'd probably kill him on sight.

And on top of that, he had a cold.

A cold.

"...argh," he sniffed, drawing out his shortswords and their gilded scabbards from his bag and tossing them to the floor--they were in the way of unpacking.

Tidus' voice pierced the hazy fog of his thoughts. "What...?"

"Nothing," Roxas replied, mouth feeling as though it had been stuffed with cotton. He struggled to stifle his sneeze but he failed miserably. Ugh.

I give up, he thought, tossing his bag at the foot of his bed and dragged himself to the mattress. Kicking off his shoes, he climbed underneath the sunset-colored bedspread, shimmying up to the middle and burying his face in the pillow. He failed miserably in muffling his sneeze.

Roxas hated getting sick. That was a known fact. He hated getting sick, because it meant people would worry about him. Which was something Roxas hated even more. That was one trait he shared with Sora--both absolutely detested having other people worrying about them. That was the reason why Sora hated King Mickey.

He knew that a simple Curaga would cure him instantly, but right now, he didn't have the disposition to do so. Arrgh.

"Dude," Tidus' voice said loudly. Roxas stared into the darkness of his pillowcase. "Looks like you're down with the chills or something."

"No, I'm fine," he said hoarsely.

Cripes, he could almost hear Riku smirk. Roxas felt something hard bounce off the general region of his chest, and his Nobody hearing picked up the sound of liquid sloshing. It was, in all likeliness, a Hi-Potion.

"Drink up, it'll help," the smooth voice of the platinum-haired Wielder told him. He groaned and pawed for the vial blindy, setting it down at the side of his bed.

"I'm fine, Riku. I just need some rest, that's all," he said stubbornly, although his mind was telling him otherwise.

"Don't be stupid. Drink the Potion and get to sleep."

"No..." Roxas sighed, really meaning the opposite, 'cause a nap seemed really nice right now. Heck, he felt like he needed to sleep the entire day away. That's what colds did to him. He reached an arm over his bed and rummaged in his bag, feeling for a particular black looseleaf notebook.

Sora's journal was something Roxas didn't want ending up in wrong hands. That's why he brought the notebook with him, and that's why he's tucking it under his pillow right now. Just in case Tidus decided to conduct a random bag inspection.

His shard of heart skipped a beat when he heard Riku's voice. "Aww," he teased, "Roxas? You keep a diary?"

It struck him as painfully true. In a sense, Sora was him, and technically, it was true. Why did Riku have to rub it in?

...like Riku knew what he was doing, anyway. Roxas was getting tired of hiding Sora's, erh, condition--it was taking a toll on him to lie almost everyday to everyone who wasn't a Nobody.

"Probably filled with doodles of Naminé's name," Tidus chuckled, and Roxas was very grateful the pillow was there to cover his blushing face.

"Shut up, you two," he growled. "It's my Physics notebook--maybe if I sleep on it, the notes'll pass into my brain..."

How he wished it was true.

He drifted off to the merciful darkness of sleep.

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

"Axel."

"Axel."

"Dammit, wake up!"

He shifted, moaned, groaned, and buried his way deeper into his white pillow, fervently wishing that whoever it was would just go away and leave him alone. He had had a massive hangover from the celebrations earlier--both the four seasons and the blood punch had been spiked with copious amounts of Luxord's whiskey. If he got his hands on the inebriated Dancers who did that...

"Axel."

The sound of summoning and wielding a large, sharp weapon. God forbid it was Saïx and his claymore who was waking him up. The very thought made him whip the pillow off his face in fright.

"Go away, Marluxia," he groaned, taking one look at the brunet standing beside his bed and stuffing the pillow over his face once more.

"Honestly, it's only ten in the morning! Don't you think it's a bit early to get drunk?" number Eleven demanded, japping the blunt end of his scythe into Axel's side mercilessly.

"What the hell d'you want?" he slurred, spots still dancing before his eyes in the cool light of Kingdom Hearts filtering through his window. All he wanted was to sleep this stupid hangover away. Who knew only three hours of drinking could lead to this?

"Get up, idiot, Curaga," Axel heard Marluxia cast irritably. His hangover evaporated almost instantly; he supposed it was because he had very high tolerance for alcohol. Unfortunately, he had seemed to test the limits of tolerance earlier. The punch seemed to be three-quarters whiskey--

He sat up, and groggily rubbed his eyes, swinging his still-booted feet over the edge of the bed. The brunet tapped a foot impatiently, watching him. Annoyed, Axel set the hem of his coat on fire, enjoying the sight of Marluxia frantically trying to put the fire out with his pillow.

Some Graceful Assassin he is.

"I take it that you're awake," he panted, shooting him a glare. Axel smirked.

"Obviously."

"So. I found a solution."

He blinked, staring at Marluxia's positively blinding smile. What happened to him? "What solution?"

"To our little Other problem."

Axel unconsciously straightened up at the sound of 'Other' and 'problem' in the same sentence. Larxene and Zexion would always reside in the 'Urgent Problems' part of his mind. He cocked his head thoughtfully, and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"We get rid of Arlene and Ienzo."

"Well, that's enlightening," he said sarcastically.

Marluxia tapped his scythe on the marble floor threateningly, and Axel wisely shut his mouth.

"All we have to do is to get Roxas to stab them both with his Dark Keyblade. That'll release the shards of heart to Roxas, since he's the nearest person and also the nearest to the original owner of the heart. Then Larxene and Zexion'll revert back. Easy. We just have to do it before they both completely revert--"

"Are you insane?" Axel asked in disbelief. "First of all, Roxas will absolutely refuse to summon the Keyblade that turned Sora into a Nobody. And how can you be sure they won't die if you stab them with a Keyblade?" He was practically yelling now; Marluxia and his harebrained schemes! "Have you even seen the Dark Keyblade? It's three feet of pure darkness! Are you in--"

"I want Larxene back," the brunet's shoulders slumped, scythe fading and him collapsing on Axel's bed, sitting next to him.

Axel stared. Once Marluxia hated him, but now the brunet was actually sitting next to him and talking to him civilly. He couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph as he tried to comfort his 'rival'."Listen, Marluxia, I know we all want her back--ow!"

Number Eleven had smacked him sharply at the base of the neck, sending ribbons of pain shooting down his chest. His steely blue eyes sparked with anger now, sienna eyebrows contorted in a scowl. "How can you sound like you don't really care? How can you sound that it's just like any other problem, Axel? I can't believe you!"

"It's not--"

"Well, what you're telling me now says otherwise! Larxene's been like the sister I never had; the only person I ever trusted! And don't lie to me, I know you love her, and I know for a fact that you'd do everything to stop her from going!"

Marluxia breathed heavily, the white bedspread curled up tightly in his gloved fist.

I know you love her.

"B-but, Marluxia," Axel stammered, head swimming, "I thought you l-liked her too?"

"You are such an idiot," the brunet answered with an inflection of amusement. "I do like her, but not that way. The only reason I joined in your fight with Zexion was because I didn't want Larxene to revert."

"I...I don't know. It seems so wrong. The Dark Keyblade is forbidden magic."

"We don't have a choice, Axel," he said firmly. "We have to do this soon, or it may be too late." Marluxia stood up, and walked to the door calmly, with no sign of his outburst from earlier.

Yep. All he needed was the overprotective brother. Pssh.

It was a risky proposition. If it was successful, well, Arlene and Ienzo would be gone once more, and they would probably live happily ever after, sans heart and real emotions. If not, well, both Six and Twelve would be dead, or worse, turned into Heartless. If he did nothing, both of them would revert completely.

It pained him to think of getting rid of the shards of heart, after all, it was what Larxene wanted, wasn't it? To have a heart and really feel? He wasn't in the blonde's footsteps to judge what was right and what was wrong; maybe Larxene really was happy that way. Why would he sacrifice her happiness for his own?

On the other hand, if he did nothing, Larxene would be gone forever. It hurt even more to think that he, Axel, had let it happen without even trying to avoid the catastrophe.

He had to choose the lesser of two evils.

But which one?

"How do I convince Roxas?" Axel finally said resignedly, staring resolutely at his gloves.

Marluxia paused, and looked back over his shoulder. "As I said, I know for a fact that you'd do everything for Larxene. You'll find a way."

And then the doorway was empty, strands of darkness fading slowly from the cool air.

Well, he was right about one thing.

He will do everything for the Savage Nymph. Somehow, he suspected that he still would, even if Sora's shard of heart wasn't beating in his chest right now.

Axel spent the rest of the day staring at the ceiling, formulating his plan.

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

"What do you mean, he's sick?" Naminé demanded, poking Tidus in the chest. The blonde boy eyed her curiously, cerulean blue eyes narrowing.

"Uh, he's sick?" he ventured, laughing slightly. Wakka snickered beside him. She fought the urge to smack their heads together. "No, really, Nam, he's got a really bad case of the cold."

She felt herself blanch; somehow she knew it was because the idiot had given her his jacket to wear. She felt incredibly guilty, and spun on her heels to walk in the general direction of his room.

"Eh? You ain't goin' to the gen'ral assembly?" Wakka's voice called after her.

She rolled her eyes, and looked over her shoulder at the two best friends. "Do you have to ask?"

She was glad to have finally gotten out of the same room of her Other; Kairi was fuming that she had chained down the Princess' memories of meeting Pence, Hayner and Olette. Really. Naminé hadn't meant to--it kinda got in the way, so she chained it down as well. But Kairi was still fuming; it took a persevering Riku to calm her down enough to be able to talked to.

Twilight Town held a lot of bad memories for her; this was where she broke Roxas' soul and uploaded its shattered pieces into a simulated town. This was also where she lost Sora.

She skidded to a stop in front of the room where she had watched the spiky-haired boy disappear into earlier, and she wrenched the door open, panting. Lover or not, best friend or not, Nobody or not, she'll take care of Roxas until her guilt disappears. Blecch.

Number Thirteen was buried under an avalanche of russet orange blankets, a single pale hand sticking out, dangling over the edge of the bed. Naminé crossed the room in less than three seconds and shook the lump that was Roxas.

"Mmahh, go away, Riku, I told you, I'm not sick..." he groaned pitifully, voice muffled under the bedcovers. She rolled her eyes and closed the windows, cutting off the ice-cold draft of Twilight Town. Next, she took firm hold of the blinkets and threw them back, revealing a shivering blonde boy, eyes firmly shut, skin paler than hers. That was saying something.

"You look pathetic," she declared, replacing the blankets.

The pillow covering his head tumbled off, and he shot up to a sitting position--and he collapsed back down again, probably hit by a wave of nausea.

"N-Naminé...what're you doing here?" he asked quietly as she stuffed the pillow back under his head.

"Obviously, I'm here to take care of you," she said sternly, putting her hands on her hips. "Whatever Tidus said, this is not a cold; you have the flu, because you're stupid enough to give me warmth when you yourself need it."

"And I thought you'd thank me," Roxas mumbled sarcastically, shifting so that he faced the other direction.

Sighing, she sat down beside him, sinking into the orange blankets. She placed one hand over his waist and lowered her head next to his, forcing back the giggle bubbling up her throat at the sight of Roxas blushing. "I am. You, mister, are not going out of this room unless you're completely healed. I'm making sure of that."

Well, it was possible. The curfew for room-hopping was at ten; and she had no intention of leaving Roxas sick until then.

"..argh," he muttered.

Ah, the things guilt made her do.

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

Roxas felt a hand remove the cloth from his forehead, heard water being wrung from it and being emptied into a basin, and felt it placed back again, cooling his burning skin. Naminé was right; it wasn't a cold, he had caught a very nasty flu bug. She had told him that he had a one-hundred-twenty degree fever. If it wasn't for his Nobody side, he would've been dead by now.

Naminé was looking for some Mega-Ethers to help her cast badly-needed Curagas, but Roxas had not thought of bringing one. Apparently, Tidus and Wakka didn't have one too, since she had searched their bags themselves. None of the girls carried such highly-concentrated Items with them. She had no intention of leaving him for extended periods of time, so here they were, alone in this sunlit room for the whole morning and noon now. Naminé had left him only to buy lunch--two tuna sandwiches, and a bottle of paopu juice for each of them.

Cripes, she had insisted on feeding him with the sandwich. I mean, c'mon, how degrading was that?

He growled in his throat, trying to get that happy feeling to go away. He didn't enjoy that. No, he didn't.

...so okay, he did.

"Oh, you're really sick," he heard the girl say softly, and he mumbled an incoherent 'yeah'.

She had taken to kneeling beside his bed and watching him rest and try to get sleep. His face felt hot, but right now, that had nothing to do with the fever.

It showed that Naminé really did care for him.

...or maybe she was just guilty.

Roxas forced his eyes open, and turned his face to look at Naminé. Her face was contorted with worry, and she was clutching tightly at the orange bedspread.

"Nam, you can leave me now, you know," he mumbled.

She burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Roxas. I'm so sorry for being such a stupid girl and taking your jacket. I'm sorry for being so helpless and everything and--"

"...erh...uuhm..Nam, calm down...!" He really was no good with crying girls; that was a common weakness he shared with Sora.

"I was the reason you got sick and now you can't be with Hayner and Pence and Olette because you're stuck here in bed and I was hoping I'll make it all better but no I messed it up and I can't even cure you because I lost all my magic points with breaking the final chain on their memories and on Kairi's, oh, I'm so sorry--"

Emotional pain shot through his heart, and he did the only thing he could think of pacifying the girl. He shifted quickly to the edge of the bed and hugged her, pressing her head gently to his shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. "Nam, don't be stupid. It's not your fault. I'd rather be with you than them, anyway."

He heard her give a strained giggle. "You're such a sap, Roxas."

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

Larxene yawned, and resisted the urge to just fold her arms on the table and use them as a makeshift pillow. Arlene giggled in her head, muttering happily about something involving sleeping draughts and late nights.

"Shut up, Arlene," Larxene murmured, staring at herself in the dresser mirror that the temporary dorms of Twilight Academy had to offer. A woman, roughly twenty years of age, with waist-long golden hair, delicate, almost sharp features, and emerald green eyes stared back at her.

Her heart beat rapidly, and she shook her head, taking deep, calming breaths. Arlene was fighting for control once more. Now that she and Zexion shared a room, and a rather small room at that, there was no telling how desperate Arlene would be to get together with Ienzo.

She wasn't blaming number Six; she had seen him do the same restraining on Ienzo. She had even caught him with teeth gritted and eyes streaming with tears in the room back at the Castle, whimpering about control and his Other over and over again.

He didn't want to lose his identity, and neither did she.

It was once her dream, to get a heart and be able to feel. But now that she had one, she wasn't too keen on the idea. What was the use of having emotions when she herself wasn't the one enjoying them? Arlene and Ienzo had bidden their time; why did they have to ruin hers and Zexion's?

The door opened silently, but Larxene felt the change in air pressure, as she usually did. She looked over her shoulder, knowing it would be the blue-haired scientist she'd see. "Hey, Zex."

"Hello," she heard him reply. She turned her gaze back to the mirror, staring at her reflection dejectedly.

"...if you must know, uhm," he paused. She blinked; number Six's voice had reverted into his Other's younger, more cheerful-sounding one. "Larxene, was it?"

She eyed his figure in the mirror curiously. Ienzo was blushing. This was the first time Ienzo had acknowledged her existence as herself, not as Arlene. "Yep, that's me," she said firmly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Ienzo crossed the room in four swift steps until he stood right behind her.

"I don't know how to say this, but...my Nobody had already collapsed," he finished in a shaky voice, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Arlene instantly responded and forced Larxene to melt in his arms. Fortunately, she still had control of her voice, and her turmoiled thoughts.

"W-what do you mean, Zexion has collapsed?" she asked, forcing back a moan as Ienzo nipped lightly at her ear. Or rather, Arlene's moan. Oh God, the thin line between her emotions and Arlene's was blurring.

His gloved hands traveled from her shoulders down to her waist, and they crossed each other, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as he continued to nip her ear, or rather, bite down. Arlene was giggling inanely. "I've finally taken control," he panted rather triumphantly.

Zexion! No!

Arlene viciously pushed against the mental wall of defence Larxene had put up, eager to get rid of her. Under any other circumstances, number Twelve would have fought back just as viciously, probably even more, but upon hearing of Zexion's disappearance, she just lost the urge to fight. Zexion was one of the strongest people she knew. How much more for her?

In effect, she had just given up, for the first, and the last time in her existence.

Arlene pushed her aside, her walls breaking and shattering into piles and piles of broken memory. Larxene felt butterfly kisses trail down her neck, and Ienzo's fingers pulling down the back zipper of her black turtleneck. She fled into the darkest recess of the priestess' mind, intending to stay there and ignore everything she had come to see, and feel. She was no longer in control of her body; Arlene was, but she could feel every sensation, every small tremor, every shiver.

Ienzo had pulled Arlene to the orange-blanket covered bed, breath hot and tongues dancing every agonizing step of the way, hands wandering and pulling cloth off where it hid pale white flesh.

Larxene just shut her eyes and willed herself to just die and fade away.

Unfortunately, it was not going to happen.

Zexion...where are you?

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

"...there you are," Naminé groaned, collapsing on the plastic bench beside Riku. She had been searching around the whole Academy for the platinum-haired Wielder, hoping to the high heavens he had a Mega-Ether on him, and found him in the cafeteria. Strangely, people had been rather jittery around the quad...until she found out there had been a Heartless and Nobody dual attack earlier. She wondered inwardly why Roxas didn't feel them coming. Maybe the flu hampered his senses.

His fever had worsened; he was almost one-hundred thirty degrees already. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and she had to leave him for more than five minutes.

"Where's Roxas?" Olette asked suddenly from the other side of the table, making her jump a bit. She raised her bowed head and saw that here was Roxas' friends, all ranged on one side, and Kairi and Riku on the other. They must've been worried; they were supposed to be meeting for ice cream.

"Aww, is he still denying he's sick?" Riku's voice asked, and she managed to quirk a smile.

"I swear to God, he's the stubbornest boy I have ever met," Naminé said heavily, rubbing her temples. Every five seconds or so, when he was awake, Roxas reiterated the fact that he was fine, when he was obviously not. Remembering why she was here, she turned to them. "...do you people have Mega-Ethers on you?"

"Roxas' sick?" Hayner repeated, smirking in a very annoying, and evil, way. "And Naminé's 'doctoring' him? Alone? In your room?"

"I was just returning the favor!" she said furiously, heat creeping up her face in embarrassment as soon as she got what the blonde was implying. She blushed even further when her mouth quirked into another smile. "He was stupid enough to give me his jacket and then get sick himself!"

Kairi giggled.

Pence gagged. "You know, I think I'm on an overdose of couple sweetness. Ugh."

"We are not a couple!" Naminé said vehemently, face turning even redder.

Her Other giggled even more. "Don't be so defensive, " she said from beside Riku.

"I am not defensive!" she yelled. She realized it was the wrong thing to say when the table burst into laughter. Groaning, Naminé put her head in her hands once more, feeling that she needed a Curaga herself.

Riku finally calmed down enough and took out two mega-Ethers from his vest pocket, setting them down in front of her. "Here," he said quietly, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Finally, she thought, getting to her feet and smiling gratefully at the Keyblade Master. She shot a death glare at Hayner (making him flinch satisfyingly) and dusted off her white skirt. Looking around, she caught the sight of an ice cream stand, and smiled.

She remembered Roxas loved the blue wonder that was Sea-Salt ice cream; who knows how long since he had tasted one.

Naminé waved at Olette. "How much is a Sea-Salt popsicle? Is it still twenty munny?"

The jade-eyed brunette giggled vehemently, managing a small nod of the head, probably getting why she asked. And probably knowing that she was getting it for Roxas. Heaven knows what else she was thinking. Grunting in reply, she stomped off, leaving a bewildered Kairi behind.

She bought two Rice-in-a-boxes, and a pair of Sea-Salt ice cream cups--dripping ice cream on the dormitory floors was something Twilight Academy would frown upon. Her feet automatically took her to the dormitories, right up to the room she had been occupying the whole day. Awkwardly balancing the paper bags of food, she prepared to kick the door open.

"I'm gonna get Yuna, 'kay!"

Naminé froze as Tidus wrenched the door open. The blonde blitzballer's mouth dropped open for a split second and suddenly curved upward into a knowing smirk. "Well, well, nurse Naminé. Here to take care of patient Roxas?"

"Shut it, Ti," she growled, stepping inside and resisting the urge to kick Tidus in a very private part. The blonde stpped out with that infuriating smirk pasted on his face.

Wakka burst into laughter as she passed his bed. She shot him a glare as she set down the food on the dresser table. Carefully picking out the Mega-Ethers, she stepped lightly next to Roxas' bed. He was sleeping, and still burning-hot to the touch. She downed the two vials of concentrated Ether in one breath.

"Ooh, go nurse Nam!" Wakka whooped.

She shot him a glare.

Pssh. She never really was good at healing...but Roxas was reaching nearly one hundred-fifty degrees. If he went any further, he might burst into flames. Naminé sat beside him, shifting his pillow slightly so that she could sit properly. She brushed the blonde strands of hair from his forehead and placed two fingers on the burning-hot skin.

Roxas snorted slightly, and settled back to sleep.

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

She staggered slightly as the draining effect of the spell on the caster started to take place. Roxas seemed a little less paler now, but his breathing was still uneven.

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

Her knees wavered, and she fought the urge to collapse right then and there. Panting, she summoned the strength to case more spells; the Mega-Ethers could only go so far. His skin felt much less warmer under her trembling fingertips.

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

She heard Wakka gasp in disbelief. It also seemed that Riku had returned from the cafeteria, judging from the voice that yelled her name. But she was too focused on casting the Healing spells to notice.

"Curaga."

"Curaga."

"Cu--" her Spellcasting had reached its limit; and her voice died in her throat. Drained of energy, she collapsed on the bed, dimly remembering Roxas' breathing smoothing out evenly.

At least her guilt was gone completely.

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

Roxas woke, as suddenly as if someone had emptied a bucket of ice water over his head. Groaning, he sat up to the sound of Wakka snoring, and the clock mounted high on the wall registered nine thirty-six in the evening. Beside him, Naminé shifted slightly and went back to sleep.

"What the heck!" he yelled, jolting the girl out of her slumber. Naminé blushed so much that she seemed to be glowing in the twilight. Wakka snorted, and turned over. "What're you doing here?"

She seemed to have frozen on the bed, cerulean eyes staring back at him fearfully.

Roxas noticed the Post-it stuck on his bedside table.

Dude, Naminé Curaga-ed you so much she passed out. On your bed. Yeah. Let her sleep. And noo, not that way.

He turned mutely to the flaxen-haired girl, who was now pretending to be engrossed in a small, black notebook she presumably had gotten under their pillow, in desperation to hide her blushing face.

Roxas blanched.

Wakka snored.

"I take it that this is not your own," she said quietly, looking over the pages, cerulean eyes searching. She was still blushing, however.

"Not here!" he hissed. "Riku might come back and see it!"

Naminé closed Sora's journal with a barely audible snap, eyebrows furrowed. She was probably still in shock from reading the first page; Sora had written a verse poem on it. And probably from the blood seeped through practically every leaf. His Nobody had spilled one of his paopu-blood packs on it, it seemed.

It suddenly came to his attention that her legs were still touching his, and he turned scarlet.

"Let's just...go, okay?"

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

"Roxas, of all the places, why the hell d'you have to portal us here?" she demanded, black looseleaf journal still clutched tightly in her arms. He shrugged, and sat on the white table.

Her room. They were in Naminé's room in the Old Mansion, the one with all white walls and white curtains and white paper sketches. Her makeshift prison; a reflection of her even whiter room in Castle Oblivion. Here and there was dotted the crude images detailing Sora and Roxas' life.

However, number Thirteen only seemed vaguely interested, after all, he had probably committed those sketches to heart. Shard of heart. Half-shard of heart. Whatever it was that he had. Trembling, she sat down in her familiar white chair, and opened the notebook.

Never had she seen so much hatred and despair put down in ink.

Roxas hummed lightheartedly; she assumed he had already read through his Nobody's journal.

As she pored through the pages, the entries only got darker and darker. She glanced up at Roxas, whose eyes were looking everywhere except the notebook. She wondered whether Roxas kept a journal like this, and whether the entries spoke of bloodlust and rage all the same. After all, he was only a reflection of Sora, whatever anybody said.

Her gaze traveled down the pages silently, and one entry caught her eye.

I've already got a hitlist, and guess what? King Mickey and Roxas are the top two. Yay. I know I'll kill the mouse slowly and painfully, but Roxas? I dunno. Maybe together with that witch Naminé. Antiform tells me...I don't really want to, but Antiform tells me. I can't even say what's my own voice and what's his. I hate being like this...

She swallowed painfully; so that was how Sora felt...

Naminé felt Roxas stiffen slightly as his stormy blue eyes fell on the paragraph she was reading.

She knew they were both thinking of remerging.

...why couldn't they live happily ever after? Just because they weren't the main characters in the story didn't mean they weren't supposed to be happy...

The door suddenly opened, white doors swinging inward with a whoosh of air, revealing the very reason why they portalled here in the first place. It was so impossible her mind spun round and round until she felt like throwing up. It seemed like it was arranged; of all the places and of all the times why did those two have to come in here and now?

Come to think of it...Riku might just be giving Kairi a tour of his once-home. And it was done late night because they simply did not have time earlier.

But it looked all too arranged to her.

Roxas cursed fluently, and Naminé cringed. "Eheh...what...uhm...brings you here?" she asked in what she fervently hoped was a calm voice.

Riku stared at her bemusedly, tilting his head and aquamarine eyes crinkling with happiness. "The view," he said shortly, gesturing to the wall of windows of her room. Kairi then sprinted to the windows, pressing her hand to it like an overexcited child. The Wielder laughed softly.

God forbid they read the journal. She cringed once more, and exchanged glances with Roxas. He looked like he had swallowed an unripe paopu fruit.

The platinum-haired boy wound an arm around the redhead's shoulders, and she leant back into him.

"Okaay," he managed to choke out, in reply to Riku's casual answer. Kairi looked back curiously, and Naminé pasted a smile on her face. Three years of being a Nobody had taught her how to show feelings when she shouldn't be; to show fake smiles and frowns and the such.

"What are you two doing here, anyway?" Riku asked thoughtfully, a small smile playing around his pale lips.

Her shard of heart shot up in her throat, and Roxas' hand skittered over to cover hers, giving it a small squeeze. The glances they exchanged with each other was one of nervousness. "Physics!" the blonde said airily. "I really can't get it, you know, heh."

She nodded quickly in agreement.

Riku shrugged. "Well, don't let us bother you," he said softly, not really looking at them. He tipped up Kairi's face by the chin and stole a kiss.

Naminé felt her heart sieze in pain; it was just so wrong to see her and him. It was supposed to be her and Sora. And it was all because she, Roxas, the entire Organization, followed the orders of a king who betrayed the realm of light.

Cringing, she averted her gaze and resumed reading the journal, under the pretense of teaching Roxas Lifestream Physics. They couldn't just go and portal out; it'd look highly suspicious.

"Mmmhmm...don't let us bother you..." she heard Kairi murmur, and she had no intention of seeing what she and Riku were doing right now.

Roxas made a gagging sound.

She turned the bloodstained page, and found a note tucked between the inked pages.

"...it's the note King Mickey sent, it's what set him off on a crash course around the Worlds. It's also what made him leave Kairi in the first place," the blonde boy whispered carefully shifting his position that he hid the note from view. Not that the two would look at them; they were caught in what sounded like a heated--

Sora,

I'm sorry to bother you on such short notice, but this concerns the Keyblade. You see, there are still worlds out there that still have their hearts unlocked. I've just recently discovered this, and if the hearts remain unsealed, Emblems will continue to try and take over the heart, and I cannot allow that. I cannot ask Riku to do this, because no matter what happens, darkness has already planted a seed in his heart that cannot be uprooted. Constant contact with such power from the heart of a world will turn him. Please, go and seal those worlds, or Kingdom Hearts will fall, and all existence with it. Your duty calls, Wielder. Go alone. Do not endanger a princess of heart. I really am sorry.

Mickey

And this message can only be seen by you. Others see something about you and Riku's knighting.

"...oh, and this one...oh God," she burst out, immediately clamping a hand to her mouth. No wonder Sora was so bitter against the mouse monarch; King Mickey was the reason why he had to leave Kairi and Riku in the first place.

...but come to think about it, it was none of the King's fault. The Keyblade had chosen him as a Wielder. Not only that, but as the Key to Kingdom Hearts itself. So it was really Sora's fate to end up as a crusader, never settling in one place.

It was nobody's fault, it dawned on her.

She was grateful it was not Roxas who had been called.

Naminé was suddenly very aware of eyes boring their stare into the side of her head. Her throat constricted in fear as she stole a frightened glance at the two, who were still locked together in an embrace.

"Feh!" Roxas said with false cheer. "Don't mind us!"

She bobbed her head with mechanical enthusiasm, making sure her smile was still firmly in place. Her spine crawled with fear and nervousness. One wrong move, and they'd have to reveal everything--

"And what's this formula for, Nam?" the blonde boy beside her asked, jabbing a finger into the note. She immediately cottoned on that she had to play along with this, and she was never more willing to do so.

"Oh! That's for Materia Efficiency. Work times energy over--"

She had only a split second's warning, noticing the shadow that her furious Other cast over the white table. She snatched up the note just before Kairi slapped down her hand on the white table.

"Give. Me. That." her steely voice said dangerously. Naminé looked up into her beryl eyes and saw nothing but raw anger. It was a terrifying sight to behold, to tell the truth. They had no chance to play dumb now; from the look on her face, Kairi was more likely to kill them than forgive them.

Riku put a restraining hand on her shoulder, but Kairi took no notice. Both their eyes trained their glance on the note, and they simultaneously blanched. Suddenly the Princess of Heart's hand shot out and snatched the piece of parchment from her hold, reading it.

If the situation hadn't been so serious it would've been fun to watch both of their eyebrows climb so high they were in danger of disappearing into their hair. Her Other swayed on her feet unsteadily, and Riku had to hold her shoulders straight.

"Naminé, this isn't good," Roxas breathed.

As tempting it was to roll her eyes heavenwards because of Mr. Obvious, she did not. She had a feeling the gesture would not be appreciated.

"The hell it's not," Kairi swore softly. That was the first time she had heard her Other swear--bluntly put, she was pissed off. The Princess then wrenched herself free of Riku's grip, stepping and leaning closer to them. Roxas immediately portalled over to Naminé's other side. She herself was backing into the chair short of the point of making it topple over.

"Kairi, no..." Riku repeated, but he trailed off, wisely knowing when to give up.

Her teeth ground against one another, and she tensed, ready to portal away in a split-second notice of Kairi's violence.

The redwine-locked girl was pale white with fury. Naminé decided right then and there never, ever get on a Princess of Heart's bad side. Kairi took a deep breath, and screamed.

"How the hell did you get this?"

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wieehh.

there you are.

it's the beginning of the end; it'll be quite action-y (if there was such a term) from here on.

any questions? I'll get back to ya.

I have art for Nobody's Perfect on deviantart. yay. http/ please?