7.

Ienzo frowned. He shook his head. "Perhaps a friend of yours?"

Demyx waited, to learn more. Nothing happened. "Maybe…"

"Perhaps a mutual friend perished in battle, and Elrena blamed you," he said. "Perhaps your distaste of fighting came from that time then."

"Because we were Keyblade wielders, you mean?" It made sense. He scoffed. "Maybe I was always a coward."

"Or maybe you were a frightened child," Ienzo pointed out. "As you so bluntly said to me, prior to being in the Organization, you were a child. "

"Seventeen. Bit older than you were."

"Seventeen is still young enough to be scared and overwhelmed."

"...Destroy everything," Demyx murmured. "The first Keyblade war… that's the one that shattered the World, right?"

"Yes."

"What if I'm from then?"

Ienzo shook his head. "That's not possible. A person can only time travel to a point where they had a body, or into a replica. If it's been that long, you would've naturally died long ago. And your body is organic."

Demyx didn't quite buy it. He just hummed.

"Recall Xemnas was a master manipulator," Ienzo said, brushing a few strands of hair out of Demyx's face. "He may have been right about the Keyblade legacy, but he was likely trying to throw you off. Make you dependent on him for answers. Don't let him keep winning."

Demyx nodded. "Thank you."

A small smile. "Of course."

Demyx tried not to think about it. Those flickers and pops of memory. It was his first substantial view into his own past. Was I always bad? Was I always worthless?

He went to the library to see if he could do any digging about that time. All he found were literal fairy tales, legends, nothing based in scientific fact . He got so desperate he even asked Even , but much like Ienzo all the man did was shake his head and say it was impossible.

"These memories could be corroborations," he said. "Your heart and mind were particularly vulnerable when he told you that, if I gather the timeline correctly."

The feelings were too real to be made up. Demyx stuttered out an approximation of that thought.

Even squeezed his hand. "You may feel fine, but you've experienced much lately which may make things hazy," he said. "These memories could also come from an attempt to not process what Xigbar did to you."

"You don't believe me," Demyx said.

"I'd believe you if it were remotely possible-which it isn't," Even said. "It was a lie, Demyx. Xemnas lied to you."

"Then how come all of us have no memories?"

"It could be any number of factors. Darkness, trauma. Maybe it is time travel, but not from so far in the past. I don't know, Demyx." A hint of Vexen's edge crept into his voice, and Even flushed. "I'm sorry for the sharpness of my tone. Obviously none of this is your asking. Were I not so split… I would love to study you further."

"Kairi?" he asked.

"...Quite. I will try to find some time in the coming days to see if there's anything in our research that might provide answers."

"I'm just making more work for you," he said, and his tone fell flat.

Even sighed. "Through no decisions of your own," he said. "My goal now is to help people. I'm helping you . Don't see it as a burden to me."

"I know," Demyx said. He stood up, easing off the infirmary bed. He took a breath. "If I were wanting to help people too, where would I begin?"

He blinked. "Truly?"

He nodded.

"I suppose you could give those restoration committee people a call," he said. "They might have work… more your speed."

"...Thanks." Demyx tried to smile.

"Perhaps you're sicker than I thought, if you want to work."

"Or better," Demyx said, and left.

Demyx did as Even said. He got Aerith's number from Ienzo. She was more than happy to put him in touch with Leon, their sort-of-leader. A day or so later he found himself facing a large garden flooded with a dozen or so years of undergrowth, armed with nothing but a shovel and a spade.

"This will help people?" he asked Aerith, a bit dubious.

"Beauty helps everyone," she said, with a smile. "Besides, in the back we're going to put in a communal vegetable garden, and medicinal herbs. A lot of stuff we can still only get off-world."

"...Really? I thought Radiant Garden was well-off."

She stabbed her shovel into the ground, unearthing thick undergrowth. "It is, comparatively. But we have a long, long way to go before we're back to where we were."

Demyx dug in as well. His weeks of sickness had made his muscles soft, and he had to work harder to get as much out as Aerith. "What was it like?"

"It's honestly hard for me to remember," she said. "I was only eleven during the Fall. I just remember it being really clean, and full of light and water and flowers. There used to be a whole lot more shops-not stalls like the marketplace, shops . And a full hospital. Nobody was ever hungry, or on the streets. We didn't have to worry about much of anything. Master Ansem was a very good king."

"...So I've heard." Demyx kept clawing at the roots.

"Ah-use leverage, that way you don't have to work so hard," Aerith said, demonstrating. "See how the roots just break up? This undergrowth is taking nutrients that our plants need."

Demyx dropped a handful of the roots onto the disposal pile. He could smell the wet earth, fresh and inviting. "What do you do with it?"

"Burn it for fuel. Or compost it."

They hacked at the undergrowth for a while, until they had a sizable patch torn out. I can't believe I'm doing this during my free time, Demyx thought. If it weren't for his calluses, his hands would be getting blistered to shit from the rough wood handles of the tools.

"We can start with these guys," Aerith said, handing him some seeds. "Don't clump them too closely together."

There was something odd, in holding these tiny seeds. Knowing they could sprout into something someone would eat someday. He watered them with the metal can and placed his hands on the soft earth.

The something was pleasure, he realized. A sort of pride. "I won't accidentally kill these, will I?"

"No, squash are pretty resilient."

They kept digging and planting almost in silence. "I gotta know," Demyx said. "Why are you guys so okay with working with the old Organization members?"

Aerith turned to look at him. "Everyone deserves second chances," she said

"That's what Scrooge says too, but… you can't really believe that? I mean…" He swallowed, remembering. "Even after you came back, they sent the Thousand Heartless."

She exhaled. "I think I see it differently than the others," she admitted. "We… we really need the help. And I don't feel darkness coming from them. I don't know how else to describe it. Meeting Ienzo, especially. I knew he wanted to be a good person. ...It was a real trick, though, convincing Yuffie and Cid." A gentle laugh. "But all the evidence, all the things we've heard… they're trying to make up for what they did. We'd be stupid to turn down help from the only people who know how to fix these problems."

Demyx hummed in response.

"...I don't feel darkness from you, either."

He met her eyes. She smiled. "I know you wanted to ask. It's all confusing for you now. But it's going to make sense. I promise."

He blinked the sudden wetness from his eyes, and accidentally smeared dirt onto his glasses.

"...You smell like the earth," Ienzo murmured, pressing his face against Demyx's neck.

"You only gave me, like, fifteen minutes to clean up."

"I like it. All I breathe in is static and paper. You smell real."

"You should come plant with me sometime. Get some air."

He let go. "Maybe I will."

"So where are we going?"

He bobbed his head. "I've got a surprise."

Demyx felt a flush, a shimmer of anticipation. He followed Ienzo down a few hallways he couldn't recognize. Seeing him in casual clothes was still strange; today's number was a black T-shirt that fit him snugly, showing his surprisingly defined biceps. Then again, Demyx had to guess some of those books got pretty heavy.

All of a sudden Ienzo stopped. He coughed once, though Demyx couldn't smell any more dust or dirt than normal. "Oh," he said. "Not now ."

"What's wrong?"

The coughing worsened. It sounded dry, wheezy, not like an illness-borne cough. Like he had asthma, or was struggling to breathe. Ienzo stumbled a little and leaned against the wall, still coughing.

"Should I get Even?"

Ienzo shook his head. One hand was cupping his throat, pulling the thin fabric away from the skin, as though that would somehow help him. "...Happens," he forced out.

"You sound like you can't breathe."

"It'll pass." He coughed hard into the fabric of his shirt, almost doubling over; then as soon as the spell seemed to have started, it stopped.

"...The hell was that?" Demyx asked.

Ienzo's voice was still wheezy. "Partially due to how I passed," he forced between breaths. "My diaphragm is a bit weak… sometimes it spasms. Makes it hard to take in air."

"Is there a medicine you can take?"

"An inhaler," he said. "And antihistamines… but it can't cure it completely." He straightened.

"You'll be okay?"

He brushed himself off. "Many, many people have asthma or bronchial spasms, and they are fine," he said. "You needn't worry about me. See? It passed quickly." There was an embarrassed flush to his face.

Demyx frowned. "I thought I was the only one dealing with… stuff."

He shook his head slowly. "No. Not quite. We all have something… going on, I suspect. Human bodies… simply can't take a beating like a Nobody's. And we wake up with our Nobody wounds, after all." He sighed.

"You feel okay to uh… do whatever you had planned?"

He scowled. "It's only a little breathlessness."

"I'm just worried about you"

The scowl faded. "Well, you needn't," he said, a bit more sarcastically. Then, softening, "I appreciate the concern. Come on."

The hallways eddied out past several long stretches of stained glass, into a small, covered garden. A broken fountain and empty planters were against one wall. Half-alive plants filled the space; Ienzo had clearly tried to salvage them recently. In front of the fountain, Ienzo had set down a blanket, and a picnic basket. "A picnic?"

"This place used to be beautiful," he said, shaking his head. "My father used to cultivate orchids in here. But they are… fickle, delicate flowers." He touched one of the plants. "Even if they live, they might never flower again."

"I didn't know Ansem was into botany."

"He isn't." Ienzo's smile became sad. "My biological father was his apprentice, once upon a time."

"Oh," Demyx said. "I'm sorry."

"I scarcely remember him," he admitted. "My mother, less. But I feel comfort when I'm here."

"Thanks for sharing it with me. Really."

For a moment they just held eye contact, and Demyx could see that guard ease, a gentleness coming into him he'd never seen. And in a blink it was gone. "We should eat before the food gets cold."

Demyx's day without meals suddenly caught up to him. "...Food?"

Ienzo smiled; it was a bit sly. "Oh, yes."

They sat down. Ienzo took a few containers out of the basket, each wrapped in cloth to hold in heat. "A traditional pesto. Oh, and these are bits of skirt steak I marinated in molasses, garlic, with a little red wine vinegar."

"You can cook ?"

"What about this is surprising?"

"I just… I dunno." He'd never actually seen Ienzo eat, he realized.

"You thought I lived off black coffee and spite?" He asked. "It's true… most of the time I don't eat much of anything intricate. But I find… now as a human, the ritual of it… calms me. And food just tastes better now." He unwrapped one of the small bento containers and handed it to Demyx. "All it is is another thing to research." He handed him a small bottle. "Wine?"

"...Fancy," Demyx murmured, suddenly feeling guilty he'd come empty handed.

"Not quite. The wine is only a table." He popped open his and took a sip.

Demyx picked up one of the pieces of steak and put it in his mouth. It was probably the best thing he'd eaten since he was human. "Oh. My. God."

"I brought sandwiches if you don't like it-"

He grasped Ienzo's arm. "You are amazing."

"Har har."

"I mean it, Zo. This is so good." He had to restrain himself from gobbling it down like an animal. "If you'd told me, I dunno, I would've brought dessert or something."

"It is precisely not a big deal." He was blushing. "I figure you'd appreciate a square meal or two."

"...Says you. You look like you could probably gain a couple."

"Maybe this is something we should try to do more often," he said with a sigh. "Remind ourselves… we are human."

"Hey, I won't complain." The pasta was equally delicious; a subtle intermingling of flavor. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"This is… I dunno… really nice."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. "It is, isn't it," Ienzo said. The sun was starting to set, and the light was soft and warm. "Oh, there's more if you're still hungry."

Full, wine finished, they lay back and watched the sky in a pleasant haze. Demyx reached over and gave Ienzo's hand a small squeeze.

"Dessert would've been nice," Ienzo admitted. Demyx laughed. "Oh well. Next time."

Demyx looked at him. His eyes were almost that open again. "Next time," he said softly.

Ienzo leaned down and kissed him. He tasted a little bit of the wine, bittersweet, and he slipped his tongue into his mouth. Ienzo eased his weight on top of him, and Demyx wrapped his arms around him, feeling that smooth back, his toned ass.

"I figured there was a reason you brought me here," Demyx said.

"Can you blame me?" Pressing his mouth back against Demyx's.

"I would've never guessed you're this horny."

"Makes two of us. As though this is an arduous chore." He trailed down Demyx's throat. "Is it so bad, to be embodied?" Taking off his glasses and setting them aside. The world softened. Demyx reached up to take off that turtleneck. His skin was so soft . Ienzo unbuttoned Demyx's jeans.

"You're doing this because you want to, right?" Demyx asked.

Ienzo laughed. "No, I made you a picnic and brought you here because I don't want to spend time with you."

"Just-being physical in general. You know we don't always have to?"

Slowly, he nodded. "I understand. Yes, I know."

"Just… so you know."

"Since when do you care so much-about anything?"

"I don't know," Demyx told him honestly. "I just do. It kinda hurts, actually."

"It does," Ienzo said, and there it was again, that delicious spark of vulnerability. "It truly does."

"What can I do to stop it?" Demyx asked. "Hurting? You?"

Another laugh. "You are not sly at all. It's refreshing, actually." He slid off Demyx's shirt and kissed gently at those scars, making him harden almost instantly. "I'd have thought you'd want to woo me."

"To be fair, I thought you'd need a whole lot more persuading."

"Let's agree to surprise one another." He trailed his fingers gently along Demyx's thigh. "Could I go down on you?"

He gasped out loud. "Talking about surprises."

"I do miss it." Pulling off his jeans. Demyx should've felt exposed, in this odd little garden, but with Ienzo, he felt… safe?

"Only if you let me do the same for you."

Briefly, he looked horrified.

"If you want to! If you want to," he clarified. "Or something else of your choice." Trying to be sexy, probably failing.

Ienzo pecked him on the cheek. He slipped off Demyx's underwear and suddenly he was naked in this place. Ienzo cocked his head a little, running his eyes over him like he was precious. "A deal is a deal," he said. Feeling his hand along his bare skin made him floaty. Demyx reached for Ienzo's pants, pulling them off, and tried to get his underwear too. "Can we… leave those on for now." In a slightly sharper tone.

"I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Don't be. It's my own insecurity."

"But you're gorgeous."

"I'd much prefer to look at you." Kissing down his body. Was that his- tongue ? Each little touch was its own sort of torture, making his dick ache. "Relax," Ienzo said.

Hard to do so when Ienzo was about to suck him off. Suddenly this felt so much realer, more grounded, than rubbing each other off under clothing. More like actual sex. He tried, but then Ienzo took his dick into his hand, stroking so gently , prising his thighs apart and kissing the sensitive insides. He felt the heat of his mouth against it, Ienzo's hand still along the base, and he made a small, shrill noise.

This wasn't fair.

Of course Ienzo was good at this. Ienzo was good at everything. He ran his tongue along the ridge, then down along the shaft. Demyx grasped at his shoulders, and feeling his bare skin turned him on more than anything. Ienzo took it deeper into his mouth, his breath hitching a little. He hadn't been lying; he was liking this, the rhythm a bit erratic. He broke away for a second, pressing small kisses along his thighs, his sack, before taking it again. Demyx felt vaguely paralyzed, unable to do much more than stroke his hair. He looked down, meeting his eyes by accident, feeling an electric sort of shock when he saw Ienzo's openness.

Suddenly he understood everything. Ienzo wasn't using sex to avoid getting personal. It was the other way around.

It didn't help that he was deepthroating him, beautiful tightness and heat, a sort of lightness he could feel all along his skin. "Hey," Demyx said hoarsely. "I'm really…" Ienzo's soft gasps were only making it worse. He squeezed Demyx's hand hard.

Demyx couldn't help it. He tried not to thrust against his throat, moaning, everything feeling like it was turning inside out before abruptly breaking open.

Ienzo eased it out of his mouth and sat up. "Fuck," Demyx said softly. "Fuck."

He smiled a little. "You're easy to please." The vulnerability was still there, and Demyx noticed his hands were shaking a little. "I… I'm going to try. But I don't usually… let people… see it."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"I just want to make you feel good."

"I know," he murmured.

"Would you feel more comfortable with your shirt on?"

Ienzo shook his head. The color was high in his face. He lay down beside him. Demyx kissed him once (tasting salt). He had to make this worth it. He'd wanted to kiss his whole body for so long. To taste him. There was a fine film of sweat all along Ienzo. Demyx ran his tongue gently along the nipple, and hearing his soft gasp, worked it with more insistence, trailing his hand along Ienzo's body. He was quivering all over. Demyx let that same hand tease his inner thighs, not quite touching.

Ienzo's hand tightened in his hair. Demyx moved a bit farther down, to his surprisingly toned belly, wanting to taste that muscle, so he did. Ienzo groaned a little. Tentatively, he let his other hand slide between his legs. He didn't so much as tense. Demyx stroked him through the fabric, feeling the heat and the dampness. He had to take it in small steps, first sliding his hand down his waistband, making sure to not quite touch him, instead trailing a finger down the joint of his legs. "Okay?" Demyx asked.

Dazedly, he nodded. Demyx pulled off his underwear. He knew why Ienzo was so conscious about this, but at the same time couldn't quite understand when he was so beautiful.

"Relax," he said to Ienzo. "Just breathe." He kissed down the fine hair below his belly button. He could smell it, so strange and musky, and pressed a kiss down along the lips before trying anything more.

The key was gentleness. Teasing. Demyx honestly had no idea if he was good at this or not-it had been a long, long time-but he had to try. He didn't stay in one spot for too long, or in the same way, running his tongue along his clit, then down along the actual opening. At least the wetness was promising.

"Go back to… that thing before," Ienzo gasped, so he did, tracing light circles around it. Ienzo's thighs tensed. "Faster?"

All he did was listen, feeling another spasm roll through him. He could almost understand why Ienzo avoided this-he was so exposed , had to be so trusting-but hearing a soft, musical sort of moan, hoped it was worth it. Demyx reached up to brush his finger along Ienzo's nipple and felt his hand hold it there.

He ran the tip of his tongue along the opening again, pushing just slightly inside, and felt him shudder. Why do you taste sweet, he thought. He rolled his tongue along the lips and returned to his clit, chancing to bring one finger up inside of him.

Ienzo cried out, startling him, and Demyx broke away. "I'm sor-"

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."

So it wasn't a sound of displeasure at all. He doubled down. Ienzo's hips strained against him. Demyx kept fingering him, but didn't break away from his clit, not daring . It was so hard now, and he was so wet , and breathing in such a beautiful way. Ienzo's hand squeezed his tightly, his whole body trembling. He heard a small "oh," and then quite literally felt Ienzo come, tension rolling through him.

Demyx pulled away. Gently. Wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ienzo handed him one of their picnic napkins. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Ienzo nodded. He was still breathless. "That was nice."

He laughed a little. "Just nice?"

"You know what I mean."

Demyx lay down beside him, chanced wrapping an arm around him. Ienzo leaned a little closer. "Relaxed?"

"Yes. A… rare sensation for me. Please let me savor it."

He kissed his brow. "Okay."