4.

As the days became weeks, Demyx started to feel better. The soreness in his muscles faded and he wasn't as tired all the time. He was able to explore the castle for longer and longer, though he still got exhausted easily. He got used to wearing glasses, though for those first few days every time he saw himself in the mirror he thought he was seeing a stranger, especially with his hair still loose. He doubted the others would consider hair gel to be necessary… and he didn't miss the time spent finagling every little strand of hair.

One thing that didn't improve, though, were the nightmares.

It seemed like every night around the same time he was forced awake. Some of these nightmares were about the time in the desert, brutal and hot and painful and helpless, but mostly they were about… other things. Being bludgeoned by Sora. More things, harder to remember, about being a kid with other kids, about Heartless, strange worlds he could've sworn he'd never been to. Fights, injuries, deaths. A lot of deaths. He'd wake up panicking or crying and would sometimes have to run for the bathroom to get sick. And then the thought of the nightmares would fade away, making him doubt he'd even dreamt in the first place.

There was one night when he was having another desert nightmare. These did stick around, and he wasn't sure whether or not he was glad for that. He'd wake up in that bed, in a room that was most definitely in a town, and once he stopped crying he got up to get a glass of water to remind himself he could. He sat back on his bed, but he was shaking too hard to go back to sleep. He got up, turned on his phone's flashlight, and started walking. Maybe to orient himself, maybe just to move, as though to get away from the bad memory. Demyx walked for what felt like a long time, a spare tear running down his face every now and again. Time had passed; why was he feeling like this?

A light in the semidarkness. "Don't come any closer. I'm armed." Ienzo's voice, hoarse and unlike any time Demyx had ever heard Zexion speak.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's me!"

"...Demyx? What are you doing wandering around at night?"

"Yeah, well, same goes for you." He took another few steps forward. He could barely see Ienzo's silhouette. "I was… having trouble sleeping."

A pause. Then, "I was too. I miss those days, you know, when we didn't have to sleep." His voice was unsteady.

"Are you… okay?"

Another pause, longer. Then, "Demyx, does humanity feel odd to you?"

"Weird how?"

He lowered the light so it wasn't right in Demyx's eyes. Ienzo's own were bloodshot. "Would you like some tea?"

"Uh… sure, I guess."

He followed Ienzo down back towards the apprentices' quarters, into the small old kitchen. They could just barely see the moon from the window. Ienzo put up a kettle on the gas stove and pulled out a box from a cabinet. "Chamomile might help. You, anyway." For a moment they just waited for the water to boil in silence. Demyx took a moment to look at Ienzo. He wore a thin robe over linen pants and a plain T-shirt, and his hair was messy, and there were bruise-colored bags under his eyes. Ienzo noticed his appraisal. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he snapped.

"Sorry, sorry. Chill." He cleared his throat. "I've just… never not seen you in a uniform. Ever."

His expression slackened, became almost morose . He shut the whistling kettle and poured them both some water. "It is odd, isn't it, what we get used to?" Ienzo sat across from him at the table. "Though this reminds me of my initial query. Is humanity strange to you?" He looked him in the eye, and Demyx realized from the glint in his that Ienzo needed this answer.

"Um…" He thought about it. "Yes and no. I mean, some things feel the same, but on the other hand, I… don't feel like what I remember to be me . Maybe if I had memories of the past, it would be different. When I played through some of my old stuff, it felt like someone else wrote it. There's a lot I'm trying to come to terms with. I don't know if it's good or not." He debated telling Ienzo about the nightmares.

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Quite," he said slowly.

"Does that help?"

Ienzo opened his mouth. Closed it. "I suppose it reassures me that I'm not losing my mind."

"Do you feel like you are?"

"Oh, yes. Yes." He rolled his eyes. "I was a Nobody for quite some time. To suddenly be back in this body, with this heart… as you said. Dissonance. For me, being a Nobody was normal. I did not crave wholeness the way you all did."

"Why not?"

His brows shot up, and for a moment Demyx almost thought he saw Ienzo's eyes watering. "Why indeed," he said. "Why… indeed." He paused. "Feelings… especially the emotions now we've gone through all that… are messy, dark, and complicated. They take from my… ability to be of use. They weaken me. Were I to… lose this burden, but still be able to make up for what I did, I-"

"What did you do?"

Ienzo went, if possible, even paler. He'd never seen Zexion at a loss for words, never saw him react to anything. Ienzo's breathing had quickened, his eyes glazing over. "I must go," he said. He stood up and put his mostly-full mug in the sink.

"Wait-Zex-I-"

"My name is Ienzo." Demyx guessed there was supposed to be venom behind the words, but he sounded on the verge of tears. "Ienzo," he repeated. "I'm sorry-"

He was already gone.

Demyx cursed his own behavior. But how could he have known that was a sore subject? He'd made Ienzo cry-the fierce, impenetrable Zexion. Maybe, he realized slowly, Ienzo and Zexion were more separate entities than himself and his Nobody. One had feelings, the other had not. Could feelings really make so much difference?

He looked at his own trembling palm. Maybe so.

That next day, Demyx was again tired from his sleepless night, so he spent some time getting used to the gummiphone again. He hadn't had much time with his old one to understand it other than "it can call people." But it had a multitude of functions; he could send people notes, take pictures, play games, journal, and… share pictures with people?

The app called itself "Kingstagram." Most of the users were people Demyx knew, or had heard of; Riku, Kairi, Roxas, Naminé. Lea and Isa. Ienzo. It was so interesting what they felt like they had to share. Pictures of themselves, of each other, places, food. He spent quite a lot of time just looking through these images until he seemed to hit the end. A post made by Ienzo.

A true scholar finds clues to the future in the mistakes of his past. #testpost.

Ienzo had made this program himself. To connect people, to share with them. He tried to figure out how to comment like other people had, and was prompted to make an account, so he did. Demyx took a picture of himself.

Rocking that #glasseslife now. Simple enough.

Within about fifteen minutes there was a response from Lea. Ha. Nerd. Demyx smiled a little. Maybe he did really want to be friends. Demyx decided to text him.

Hey.

The response was almost instantaneous. Did Lea and them have jobs? Did they have things to do? Or were they like Demyx, also killing time? Hey! How are you doing?

A lot better, actually. Trying to get my shit together.

A laughing face. I know how that is. Nice glasses. It's a good look for you.

Har har. He bit his lip. How did you do that?

What? Oh, the emoji? There's a button right above the keyboard.

A pause. Demyx didn't know what to say to him. Lea responded first.

How is it in good old RG?

I haven't actually been outside… I have no idea.

What are you waiting for?

That is a… good question.

Walk around. Get some air. Talk to people.

Demyx sighed. You're probably right. Then, what do you do? In Twilight Town?

I'm a bartender. Martini emoji. It's a living. People are interesting, anyway.

Ha. I could use a drink.

So go out and get one. Wink.

Maybe I will.

I hope you do. Catch up later, I have to go to work.

Demyx sat staring at the exchange for a while. It was the closest thing he'd had to a normal person conversation in… how long exactly?

Demyx wished he had friends. Real ones, not people who were taking care of him out of moral obligation, or who were just being nice. He'd wanted to be human for so long, but that just meant putting in the work of… building a life.

For the first time since he'd been in Radiant Garden, Demyx left the castle.

It was a cool spring day that felt like rain. Once he walked through the construction sites, town was bright and vibrant and alive . There were more people than he'd seen in some time, and they all looked… not happy , but no longer so drawn and miserable as they once had before the war. There were children playing, shoppers milling around in the marketplace. And for once, he didn't have to squirrel himself away and hide.

Demyx wandered for a time. He didn't have much money-maybe enough for a few meals or a small trinket. He'd have to live somewhere someday, get a home or room, pay rent. Could he imagine himself living here? Breathing in the bright smells-cooking food, perfumed goods, oncoming rain-he thought he could .

But how did he just make friends, without all the icky "oh, I was a bad guy" exposition that had to happen? A spike of anxiety made his heart race, and suddenly this place no longer was so pleasant.

"Ice cream, laddie?"

The voice startled him, and he felt another, harder flutter in his breast. "You talking to me?"

"No, the other fish out of water." Looking up at him was a duck in a rich red robe. For a moment the sight of the white feathers made him shudder, recalling Sora's friend and his hand in that battle. This one was offering him an ice cream bar, still in the wrapper.

Demyx took it. "Thank you," he said. He reached into his pocket for money.

"Quite alright. These were surplus anyway. Go on, sit." He gestured to one of the small tables by a shop door.

Demyx looked up. The shopfront seemed to be an odd mismash of things-food, some scattered goods that boasted they were from Twilight Town or Traverse Town or any number of places, and a small depot labeled simply "post office." "This your place?" Demyx asked him.

"That it is." He had an odd accent. "Business is booming. We'll grow yet."

Demyx looked at the teal bar and took a small bite. The salt-sweet combo was oddly familiar to him, like a half-forgotten dream. "You know," he said softly. "I have friends who are obsessed with this ice cream."

"I should hope so! Took me ages to recreate the flavor. The family that first made it… isn't around anymore." A sigh. "The scientists up at the castle, yes? They're pretty much solely keeping this aspect of business afloat."

"The…" Demyx blinked. "No, these are… people from elsewhere."

"...I'm wary of them too, to be honest," the duck said. He shook his head. "Knowing what they did… well. Sends shivers through me feathers."

Demyx wondered if this was what Ienzo had been referring to. "...What did they do?"

"I knew you weren't from around here, laddie." He smiled sadly and offered his other hand. "Scrooge McDuck."

"...Demyx. And, uh, no. I'm not from around here."

"It's a dark story… not exactly one to be told by new friends over ice cream." A wry chuckle.

"...Oh. But, well… it's said their experiments are part of what helped this world fall in the first place."

"...With darkness?" Demyx knew this much from whispers in the Organization.

"On hearts. People. Children, too."

Demyx swallowed, feeling his stomach clench.

"But… so we're told, by Leon and them anyway… they've turned a new leaf. Devoting themselves to good. And I… trust Leon." Scrooge smiled. "What a conversation."

"Ha. Yeah. Sorry." Demyx tried to smile, too. Experiments? On kids? But how-

No wonder thinking of it made Ienzo so upset. He had to be feeling guilty. Right?

Was it wrong for Demyx to want him to feel guilty about that? What exactly had they done? Ienzo was roughly the same age as him, and this fall had supposedly happened about eleven years ago… meaning he'd have been a child. Unless…

Was Ienzo one of the experiments? "Oof, yeah," he said. "So why'd you stop me, then? Giving away ice cream isn't exactly good for business."

The smile became sheepish. "I admit I have something of an ulterior motive," he said. "I've been looking for a young, strong boy like you. We're growing too fast and there's not enough help."

Demyx almost snorted. "Like a job?"

"Sure. Someone new to town like yourself must need one."

Demyx opened his mouth. Closed it. "What kind of job?"

"Someone to man the post office. Maybe do some delivery work."

At this point he actually did laugh out loud, mostly at the irony.

"Aye, you coulda just said no-"

"I'm not saying no ." He took another bite. "I just, ah. Let's say I've had some recent experience in that."

"Even better! When can you start?"

He blinked. "You must be pretty desperate to be hiring me on the spot."

His eye glinted. "We're all for second chances here in Radiant Garden. So can you be here tomorrow by nine?"

He thought about it. But what else would he do at the castle other than sit around and agonize? "Sure," he said. "Why not."

Scrooge grasped his free hand. "Welcome aboard."

A job. Well, at least it was something.

He had to build this life somehow. But how? Demyx was still physically recovering, still lacking memories, lacking a whole lot more.

What did he want ?

Being directionless had once suited him. After all, the Organization had taken care of most of his material needs. As long as he had Arpeggio, and time , the world may as well have been his oyster.

Demyx sighed heavily. Maybe that was what he needed, a good long jam sesh. Anything to work through these tangles of thought. Reassure him he was good for something .

He returned to the infirmary, his informal room, sat cross legged on the bed. Brought the sitar into his arms. It had to mean something that it was still here, right? He had to mean something?

He started with some well-known and worn compositions, but almost on their own accord he found himself volleying through a rhythmic nightmare, a harsh minor key that wasn't quite taking shape. He tried to understand the emotions in this song, thick and heavy and old . A key to his past? Did he want to know who he once was? Did this have anything to do with the dreams? How could he possibly move forward if he didn't even know who he was?

The song scattered into silence, and Demyx felt tears on his face, fogging his new glasses. He took them off and swiped at his eyes, seeing in his blurry peripheral Ienzo , of all people. "What…" Demyx began, sniffling. "I thought you were mad…"

"...I heard you playing," Ienzo said. "The tone… concerned me."

"Why should you care?"

He touched his chest. "I fear I may feel… the same."

"...Same…"

Ienzo offered him a clean handkerchief. He gestured to the chair next to the bed. "May I?"

"Uh-sure." Demyx patted at his face with the cloth. It smelled slightly sweet, like detergent, almost floral. Sandalwood? A product of Ienzo's? (Why was he wondering? Why did he care?)

He sat. He looked careworn, his hair a fuzzy mess, like it hadn't been combed in a long time. Demyx found himself struck with the urge to brush it out of Ienzo's eyes, what that skin might feel like against his palm. There was something different in his eyes, something less guarded.

"Look, about the other day, I'm sorry," Demyx said.

"You did nothing wrong," Ienzo said slowly. "I just… wasn't aware how little you knew of the Organization's founding." His fingers, knotted in his lap, tapped together anxiously.

Demyx cleared his throat. "I was in town today, and I met that guy, Scrooge McDuck? He said something about experiments."

Ienzo nodded sadly.

"And… Vexen alluded to them before. Horrible things… you did in the name of… progress, or whatever."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. "Yes. We were… scholars of the heart, for the longest time. Learning about it, what affected it, human nature. But to understand a heart… you need people. Subjects. Tests. From there… it is very easy to… lose track of the impact. Easy to slip into darkness. And Xehanort… goaded us, pushed us." His head snapped up. "Make no mistake, the experiments I did, I did of my own volition."

"How old were you?"

Ienzo blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"We're about the same age, right? And that was… eleven-ish years ago? Meaning you'd be…" He bit his lip. "A kid?"

He ran his hand through his hair. His mood had changed immediately, and the air felt like it had cracked. "And?"

"I dunno, after listening to all of Xemnas's lectures… stuff about when the heart is most vulnerable, and shit, aren't kids like… really easy to manipulate?"

Ienzo took a quick breath.

"And you were like, a genius kid too, right? So you thought you were above it all. I'm sure all he had to do was tell you you're very smart and special to make you… ah… want approval. Cause you always did as Zexion. Just saying. It was all, "please the Superior" "reach our goals " that." He waved his hand around a little. "I dunno, it might not be all your fault? Just saying."

"But I…" Ienzo took a sharp breath. "I still… I still hurt and killed people, I-wanted to see what I could do. How far we could push it. We were learning about… the building blocks of the universe, and people… so many people suffered and died… I remember." He shuddered. "If I hadn't persuaded Master Ansem to build that lab-"

Demyx's heart was beating hard and fast. He'd never seen Zexion like this-there was something raw and wild in it, something he'd just been feeling a few minutes ago. "Did you build that lab because you wanted to hurt people?" He wasn't sure if this was helping or not.

Ienzo shook his head. He was blinking quickly. "Come to think of it…" His voice was tremulous. "I'm not sure it was… actually my idea? Oh god, Demyx." He locked eyes with him. "I never… I don't think… it wasn't my idea. " Demyx heard him panting. "I didn't even realize…" A wry, panicked laugh. "Xehanort said that… considering I was his son… I had the best chance convincing him. So I did." He pulled his hands through his hair. "So much of what I thought was true was a lie all along…" More harsh, odd laughter. Then so slowly... he started to cry. "Oh god."

Demyx knew that feeling of unraveling somehow, of feeling everything you've ever known come apart. (You were growing a heart all along. Keyblade legacy sleeps within you. ) Perhaps, even, buried in memories of before. Without hesitating, he reached over and drew Ienzo into a hug.

It felt strange to have another body close to his after so long without contact. Almost foreign. Ienzo jerked a little, and Demyx almost let go, but after a moment he sagged into his embrace.

"But I still…" Ienzo forced out between breaths. "I still… did those things, I still hurt people, but if he… if he'd never… I wouldn't have…" Taking gulps of air like it hurt.

Demyx shushed him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay."

"It's okay. You couldn't have known better." Demyx wondered if he were telling himself this too. A young amnesiac waking up in the middle of nowhere, only for Xigbar to find him, with a smirk, collect him and tell him he could help. Could give answers to the emptiness, the lack of memories. Being brought into a strange world of darkness and nothing… never knowing humanity or a real, normal life. He would've, though, if he'd been left to his own devices. They both would've.

Ienzo pulled away slightly. "Everyone told me I was doing the right thing," he said softly. "And after all that… I believed it. I believed this was all for the greater good. And it never was." He pressed a hand to his mouth. "If I could believe for years that Ansem had gone mad and it wasn't true, of course there could be more I was wrong about."

"No." Demyx felt something tighten in him. He wanted to help. Somehow. Someway. Someone. Even if that someone was just this old coworker in his arms. "But you can do the right thing now."

"I can now," he repeated. Shook his head. "Demyx, you have no idea what this means to me."

"It's just the truth."

"The truth," Ienzo mouthed. There was an odd pause. Demyx realized once again how close they were together, the way he smelled, clean, almost like sandalwood and old-fashioned ink (a whisper of a not quite realized memory). He noticed for the first time the curve of his lips, how soft they looked, and he wondered what it might feel like to-

Ienzo leaned up and kissed him.

It was an abrupt, startled gesture. Demyx gasped a little in surprise.

Ienzo pulled away; he seemed shocked, too. "I-forgive me. I'm not sure why I-I felt so many things, and…"

"You kissed me."

"I guess I did."

An awkward pause. Demyx touched his lip, feeling the ghost of pressure.

"I shouldn't have-I should- god ." He hissed in frustration, pulling a hand through his hair. "I can't do anything right-" He got up and tried to turn away.

Demyx grasped Ienzo's hand. "No."

"...What?"

He touched Ienzo's face; he didn't move or resist, his eyes glinting as though curious to see what he would do next. Demyx kissed him.

The response was strange and immediate, like no kiss he'd had as a Nobody. Something fluttered in him, tight and wanting and wholly new. Demyx was in shock. He didn't know what the hell was happening. He brought his hands up through Ienzo's hair, kissing him all the while, bright and electric. And Ienzo was kissing him back .

It was quick. It was confused. He was pretty sure neither of them wanted it to stop.

Help me. Oh god. He felt Ienzo's tongue along his lips and let it inside, a feeling like velvet, like falling, and he grasped at him through that white coat. Demyx felt that kiss in his whole body, a heavy unrestrained wanting wanting that had maybe been dulled by being a Nobody, who could be sure, or maybe it was because he had never been kissed like this-

He felt himself being pressed against the bed, the softness of Ienzo's hair against his throat as he kissed it, this new and beautiful sensation after going through all that hell. He couldn't think, everything fuzzy and dull at the edges, his cock hardening and throbbing almost painfully-

Maybe Ienzo felt it happen, or maybe he just had more wherewithal than Demyx to realize what exactly was going on here. He sat up, breathing hard, looking shocked. With one trembling hand he touched his mouth. "I… I, um." Ienzo eased off of him. "What was that?"

"Uh," Demyx said. "Huh."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry. I kissed you back."

"I feel I can't control myself and that shouldn't be your problem. All these realizations must have sapped my self-control-"

"It's fine."

He stood. "Well… I'll…"

"Yeah."

He cleared his throat. "Good day." He left in silence, closing the door behind him. Demyx sat up, shaking, want still bleeding heavily from him. This was a bad idea. Having sex… with… Zexion? No, Ienzo. He'd never felt like that before. No wonder it used to be so easy to manipulate people in those days… None of his brief encounters in his time on other worlds were close. Everything about humanity was so messy and intense-

He rested his hand against his dick. I shouldn't. But yet the thought of living with this feeling for long was almost unbearable. The thought of Ienzo's mouth on his, his lips against skin… He slid his hand below his waistband and began stroking it. Anything to feel normal again, to get the idea of this out of his head. He was just latching on to the literal first person he'd come in contact with. It was not a good idea.

Yet even just touching himself felt too good… what would it feel like if they… if they hadn't stopped? If Ienzo had held him down and fucked him-

There was more to it. That vulnerability, that confusion, that humanity. Demyx had never seen it in him. For a moment they had just connected like two people. Two normal people. Instead of hypothetical sex, he found himself thinking what it might be like to not be alone… to work through this whole complicated life together…

As he came, for a moment it was all bearable. But once the feelings began to fade, Demyx knew there was no chance in hell of it actually working. And now he had a mess to clean up. "Fuck me," he muttered, aware of the irony.

Well. At least this new life was interesting.