AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Welcome! I've been promising this story for a long time, and finally, with the turn of the new year, it's here. I once read somewhere that what you're writing about means something, regardless of the medium you choose to get the message across. That is sometimes the only thing that has kept me going as I've planned for this. And what I finally figured out - the reason I can finally publish this story - is that I'm writing about the journey to find yourself and accept yourself, when you turn out to not be who you thought you were.

This story is a Twilight Town AU, which takes place in a Twilight Town loosely based off of the one shown in Kingdom Hearts, but is set here in our world. No Keyblades or Organization XIII here. And, naturally, as stated in the description this is an AkuRoku (Axel x Roxas) story, one that will span across multiple chapters. I imagine that's why most of you are here, but if not, well...I advise you to leave while you still can.


DISCLAIMER:

I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of its characters, settings, items, or storylines. Neither I nor this story is associated with Square Enix, Disney, or any of the owners of the numerous co-collaborations Kingdom Hearts involves itself in.

Though I will only be stating this disclaimer once, please know it applies to this story as a whole, and not just this chapter.


*~* CHAPTER 1 *~*


Drip. Drop. Plip. Plop.

Roxas listened to the leaky faucet in the bathroom adjacent to the maintenance office. He knew he should fix it, per the building standards and safety code, but that might require a visit from the plumber, and more importantly, a bill mailed to him a week later if not handed to him right then and there.

There were some days when he regretted being a maintenance worker at Twilight Towers. The building was old and too active for its age, with permanent residents occupying the apartments in Floors 1 through 13, and hotel rooms for guests from Floors 14 through 20 - not to mention a working train station on the ground floor. He was sure the station had been the talk of the town when it was built - the construction was from a memorable era, with high arches in place of doors, stained glass windows, and its fabulous bell tower with a clock the town still relied on - but it would have been better suited to being a museum than some sort of mega complex for tourists. Still, he could not be upset with the owner of the building for turning it into what it was - he had made his own mistakes too, after all.

His contemplation of the past was interrupted only by the ringing of an aging telephone, vibrating dangerously towards the edge of his desk. "Hang up," he told the phone firmly, staring at it as if he could control the actions of the caller on the other side. At its continued insistence, he finally sighed and picked up the telephone, holding it an inch away from his ear.

"Hello?" A crackly voice at the other end of the line, noticing the ringing had stopped, decided to try their luck with the silence that had answered. "Hello, is anyone there?" The voice was male, Roxas decided, though the static made it rather difficult to tell.

"I can't quite seem to get into my apartment," the voice continued, followed by a short laugh. "This is the number for maintenance, right?" The caller let out a loud sigh, ending in a huff of annoyance. "Look, I can hear you breathing. You could at least have the decency to do your job and help a guy out!"

"Number?" Roxas asked boredly, not caring that his presence on the line had been discovered, nor that his silence had irritated the stranger.

"Thank you, I'm having a good day, and you?" the voice responded sarcastically. Now it was Roxas' turn to sigh.

"I'm doing just dandy, now give me your apartment number," he responded in kind. He was in no mood to put up with a sarcastic asshole - that was supposed to be his role in this building. He certainly wasn't going to let a stranger take that title from him.

"Thirteen-oh-eight," the voice responded pleasantly. "Now was that so -" But Roxas hung up on them, smiling at the thought of the dial tone sounding in their ear. He spun around in his chair, reaching behind him to open a cabinet. The cabinet was full of various keys for the building, and contained various compartments for additional keys, such as those for the boiler room, front desk, and the maintenance office he used as his workplace. The rows of keys for all seven floors of hotel rooms and thirteen floors of apartments stared back at him as he opened the door, and he scanned through them for Key 1308, in the thirteenth row and eighth column.

Roxas had always had a bit of an obsession with keys. He supposed, really, that it started out as an obsession with locks. Interesting things always seemed to be placed behind locks - and keys were simply what enabled him to find those hidden secrets. Tiny silver keys that opened music boxes and journals, large brass keys that opened doors, antique keys that opened desks and wardrobes - all of them seemed to present an opportunity to Roxas, and he had amassed quite a collection of them over the years.

The keys at Twilight Towers were medium-sized, with a shiny golden color that proclaimed them as being newer than the building they belonged to. All the keys in his cabinet contained a small sticker across the front with the room number, something that marked them as belonging to maintenance. He lifted Key 1308 down, running his finger over the teeth and remembering, with a start, that he had picked up this same exact key only a week prior. Frowning, he pulled open a drawer underneath the cabinet and checked his spare keys, sighing as he noted both spare apartment keys for 1308 were still in his possession.

Being considered the keeper of keys at Twilight Towers had its advantages, one of which was knowing when an apartment was occupied or not. When someone moved out, their keys were returned to the front desk and then given to Roxas, who would go check on the apartment and make sure everything was in order. Then, when a new occupant moved in, paperwork was filed with the main office, and that paperwork would be given to Roxas so he could give the key to either the front desk, or directly to the occupant, depending on if they had already been granted access to the apartment or not - though he preferred the former, not being particularly fond of socializing with strangers. He wasn't surprised this new person was having trouble getting into their apartment without a key. Why had he not received paperwork for Room 1308? He sighed, closing the door on his wealth of keys. He supposed he would go upstairs and see who this person was. It wouldn't be the first time he was forced to make a house call.


The walk up to the 13th floor from the basement was not one of Roxas's favorites, though he had climbed the stairs to higher floors many times in the past. The scenic route was just as well, for the building did have surprisingly beautiful stairwells, which Roxas felt did not get admired nearly often enough. Far from the traditional concrete seen in more modern buildings, the stairs here were made of well-maintained stone and wood, with simply carved banisters that showed their age only where the railings were frequently gripped. He paused as he approached the door to Floor 13, listening for people on the other side. The cramped landing didn't allow much room for multiple people. Hearing nothing, he opened the door and headed to the left, towards Room 1308.

He took note of the stranger standing outside the door almost immediately. Far from looking anxious about waiting or irritated that he couldn't access his apartment, he was leaning against the wall with his arms casually crossed in front of him, looking towards the elevators on the other side of the building. He wore a long black coat, which nearly touched the floor and yet obviously had a long split in the front, as it appeared zipped and yet a pair of high black boots and black skinny jeans were visible from this angle. Roxas privately wondered if anyone had informed this man that it was the middle of summer, but kept his thoughts to himself as he approached the door and stood there, waiting to be noticed.

"Well, finally," the man said suddenly, surprising Roxas as he had not moved or even turned his head. "Took your sweet time. Just tell me you brought the key with you."

"You must be new," Roxas commented, purposely ignoring the implied question.

"What gave me away?" The stranger turned around and grinned, and Roxas took in the shock of spiky red hair, piercing green eyes, and most surprisingly of all the face tattoos that looked like small diamonds underneath his eyes. Not seeming to notice, the man uncrossed his arms and held out his hand. "The name's Axel. Got it memorized?"

Roxas looked at the offered hand with distaste, and the stranger yanked it back to ruffle his already-untamed mass of hair, like that was what he meant to do all along. "Like I was saying on the phone," he continued, "I sort of can't get into my apartment."

"But I assume that means you also sort of can," Roxas said pointedly. "Identification?"

"Excuse me?"

"Identification. I.D. card. Driver's license. Proof that you live in this apartment."

"Don't have any." Axel grinned again, fixing Roxas with his most charming look. "Let me in anyway?"

"No I.D., no key."

"Fine." He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, turning it around to show Roxas his identification. "Axel Lea Brenton, address recently changed and not yet updated on this card. Pleased?"

Roxas glanced at the license, noting that Axel was an organ donor and that he looked rather hungover in his photo. "No."

"Aw, man." Axel slumped over dramatically, at the same time folding his wallet over and slipping it back in his pocket. "You're killing me..." he looked at Roxas, realizing he didn't know his name. The blond smirked, having no intention of giving it out.

"I don't have all day." He tapped his foot impatiently. "Are you capable of proving you live here or not?" At the panic-stricken look on Axel's face, he spun around on his heel, muttering "thought not" as he started to walk away.

"Wait!" Axel called after him. "I can prove it! But you have to open the door. I can tell you what's inside."

Roxas turned around, looking critically at the man in front of him. Nothing about him looked even remotely trustworthy, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to see the inside of someone's apartment. He liked seeing how many different ways people could use the same space - and besides, in the event of untimely moves, Roxas always got first pick over what was left in everyone's apartment should no forwarding address have been left. It never hurt to start picking out things early. He had actually gotten a somewhat old, but still decent CD player off the last occupant of this very apartment.

"Deal," he agreed, marching over to the door and turning the maintenance key in the lock. "Stand over there," he instructed, waving Axel off behind the door as he poked his head in. He took a look around, and as his eyes trailed through the kitchen, over to the living room, and out the windows, he realized he had been conned.

"Nothing's inside!" Axel crowed triumphantly, pushing Roxas out of the way and strolling into the apartment. "Well? Am I right?" He gestured around the room, looking rather pleased with himself.

Roxas gave the man a sour look, not sure whether to be more annoyed at such a simple trick working on him or appreciative of Axel's nerve. Of course there was nothing in the apartment. Didn't Roxas know before even coming up here that Axel didn't have a key? He watched as Axel did a triumphant victory dance in the middle of the empty living room, and made a decision. He wasn't really supposed to let people stay in an apartment without the proper paperwork, but seeing as there was nothing in it and it was, after all, unoccupied, what was the harm?

"I don't do phone calls," he informed Axel, raising his voice to be heard above the non-existent music Axel was moving in time to.

"What?" Axel stopped, looking curiously at him.

"I don't do phone calls," Roxas repeated. "If you're going to make a habit of this - and I'm sure you will, since you don't seem to have a key or a decent lockpicking set - I would prefer you pick a different method of communication." And with that, he turned around, heading towards the stairwell and elevator bay. Axel Lea Brenton was not going to get the better of him.


He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when he arrived at his office the next morning to find Olette, one of his coworkers who worked the front desk, standing outside his door with a small stack of papers. Her brown hair had been braided into pigtails, and she flashed him a bright smile as he stepped off the elevator. "Hi Roxas," she called, waving energetically in his direction.

He held up his hand in response, his expression wary as he approached. While he found Olette to be the most tolerable of all his coworkers, and would often converse with her during lunch breaks or slow times, he never liked being greeted with real work in the morning. Especially when that work involved a stack of papers. Papers could be anything from an order form for new office supplies to someone accidentally setting the interior of their apartment on fire the night before, and he preferred to have a solid hour of email answering and coffee drinking under his belt before finding out which it was.

"Key requisition," Olette told him cheerfully, knowing the reason for his lack of enthusiasm. "Dropped off last night for Room 1308. Seems a little confused on how this apartment thing works...first he asked me for a key...then he agreed to fill out the paperwork when I told him I didn't have one...but then he just up and disappeared before I could grab it for him. Isn't that strange?"

Roxas, barely listening to her, had fished his own key out of his pocket and was opening the door to the maintenance office. "Yeah, sounds odd," he said, not entirely sure what he was agreeing with. He walked straight back to the key cabinet, opening the drawer within it and taking out the key she had asked for. In his tired stupor, he did not at first realize what room she had asked for, and had his hand halfway outstretched to give her the key before he realized. "Wait," he said slowly. "Can I see those papers?"

Olette handed them over, tapping on the signature line. "You have to sign it too, you know," she reminded him, reaching into her back pocket for the pen she always carried with her.

"Thanks," he said absently, scanning the paperwork for a name. Axel. A little lightbulb went off in his head, and he hastily grabbed the offered pen and scribbled his name at the bottom. "Here," he said, handing her pen back to her along with the key. "You hold onto this one. I'll come get it from you if I track him down first."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Olette's tone was skeptical, and she looked at Roxas as if he had temporarily gone insane. "I know dealing with clients isn't your favorite part of the job."

"I'm sure," Roxas told her confidently. "I needed to head upstairs anyway."

"Well, alright," Olette said, against her better judgement. "Your call. But I don't want complaints coming back to me later about your attitude!" She winked, locking her hands behind her back and walking out of the maintenance office, leaving Roxas to his contemplation of the paperwork.

As soon as she had left, Roxas let out a sigh of relief, staring at the paperwork and key together. That was a bit of a close call, and he was slightly grateful to Axel for not saying anything about already having access to the apartment. He supposed he wouldn't have gotten in trouble - he could always say he had seen this paperwork and forgotten to take it from him - but it was better to not have to explain. He flipped through the paperwork with interest, noting that Axel's handwriting was much neater and smaller than his own. According to this, his previous residence had been in a townhouse located in nearby Radiant Gardens. His work history was patchy, showing no more than a couple months' experience at any one location alongside what Roxas considered to be a high number of gaps in his employment. At the moment, he seemed to be self-employed, and Roxas could not contain his whistle at the salary on that vague description. Axel was making more per year than he could hope to make in two! Gritting his teeth in frustration, he picked up the key and made his way upstairs. He might as well get this chore out of the way early.


"Don't you own a change of clothes?"

Axel had answered the door in a particularly bad mood, being woken up from a night of sleeping on the floor by a series of sharp knocks. Despite his comment on Roxas's clothing, he also wore the same outfit as yesterday - a fitted black t-shirt with a red symbol on it, black skinny jeans, and his favorite pair of boots. His coat laid behind him on the ground, looking as if it had been thrown without any sense of decorum.

"Don't you?"

Ignoring the retort, Axel threw the door open wide, yawning in his visitor's face. "To what do I owe this early morning surprise?" he grumbled, looking down at the blond with annoyance. "Come to kick me out of my own apartment?"

Roxas withdrew the spare key from his pocket, dangling it in front of him. "For you," he said simply. When the man made no move to grab it, he prompted him again. "Shiny, brand new key. Will let you in anytime you want. All yours."

"No thanks."

Roxas stared at Axel, surprised. Yesterday all he had wanted was this key - and now he was turning it down? Who did that? He couldn't remember it happening at all during the time he had worked for Twilight Towers, and he wasn't really sure what to do in a case like this. Should he throw the key at Axel and run? Should he just return the key downstairs to the cabinet and wait for him to change his mind?

"But it belongs to you." He hoisted the key up a bit higher in the air in an attempt to make it easier for Axel, who looked to be significantly taller than him, to grab.

"Still not interested. Besides, if I never lock my door again, I wouldn't need it, right?" He stepped back from the door, looking behind him and wincing. "Care to come in? I could offer you some lovely tap water, but you would have to drink it directly from the faucet."

"You...do realize I'm working," Roxas informed him, gesturing at his outfit. While only the hotel staff were required to wear a uniform, he did make a habit of dressing entirely in black for work, all the way down from his thick-rimmed glasses to a short-sleeve, button down shirt made of a durable material and a heavy-duty pair of black jeans. The only things he was wearing that weren't black were the laces of his sneakers, which he was fairly sure used to be white, and the checkered band of the fitness tracker he wore on his left wrist.

"I don't see a name tag," Axel told him, smirking. "So you must have just stopped by to visit. Kind of you, really, but come back after I have some furniture and maybe a couple knick-knacks." He began to close the door, stopping when it was only open a crack to peer at Roxas. "That's a real invitation," he told him. "Come back sometime."

"I've got my eye on you," Roxas told the closed door as the lock clicked into place. He could hear the sound of laughter from the other side, and his eyes narrowed. This is war, he thought savagely. You haven't seen the last of me.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I do plan for this to be about the average chapter length, and I am desperately hoping to update once every two weeks, or even weekly if I can swing it (though I feel inclined to warn you my track record has historically not been good, and I also am unlikely to stick to Saturday updates. I just wanted to start the year off right!).

Stay tuned for Chapter 2, and thank you for reading / following / favoriting / reviewing!