"Number IX?"

On the edge of the rooftop of the lonely citadel sat The Melodious Nocturne, Sitar in hand, strumming contently. He was faced towards the barren and empty city, hit tune ringing out and easily invading the void of silence, filling the metropolis with soft, appealing music. He did not bother to turn his eyes up towards his Superior, but instead closed them, immersing himself in the sanctuary of his own sounds.

Nevertheless, he greeted, "Hey there, Zexion."

The Cloaked Schemer did not reply, but fixated his gaze upon Demyx's playing. He –and everyone else within the Organization- had told the boy countless time that his Sitar was not fit for playing; it was meant to be a weapon only. The strings were coarse and hard and tight, their purpose purely to strike harsh sounds in which to direct attacks with a sharp and sudden damaging force. Yet Number IX insisted on playing that weapon continuously with, what could be considered 'love', morphing harsh chords into gentle melodies, and rough compositions into tender rhythms.

The elder wrinkled his nose. In disgust, perhaps? At himself, mostly.

"Demyx." He said calmly, his tone even. "I must ask you something."

The Musician's fingers halted their dancing upon the Sitar's frets as jade-green eyes looked up at his Superior. "Hmm?"

"I simply do not understand your thinking." Zexion crossed his arms, boring his azure eyes into the boy, as if to search for something. He needed to know the answer to the question he couldn't answer for himself. "You've proven your talent with that weapon through your dedication and determination of producing decent music with it. If you were to only practice your actual use with in battle, you could be a very adept combatant. Not to mention, having the title of a 'weak fighter" cleared from your name."

Consideration barely touched Demyx's expression before he shook his head, an innocent and blank look rising to his face. "I don't care what others think of me."

Zexion couldn't help but admire his self-confidence. "But what others think of you affects how you are seen, and how much respect is passed onto you."

A careless shrug only added to the Musician's innocence. "It's not that I can't fight, or anything." His fingers caressed a thin string on his instrument, before plucking it lightly to release an ear-pleasing sound. A cocky grin appeared suddenly. "I just don't like to fight."

It was no secret; everyone knew Number IX was not fond of violence in the least. Yet, there was something behind that smirk on his face that pushed Zexion to question further.

"And why not?"

Demyx's smirk widened as he turned, silently, back out towards the expanse spread out before his eyes. His fingers then began to waltz once again, music flying out into the open air.

Seeing as he wasn't going to receive an answer, Number VI turned to leave.

"Because, Zexion…"

The Scientist flicked his eyes back in the Musician's direction once more, not bothering to pivot his entire body.

"I think fighting isn't as fun as living."

A soft gasp on Zexion's part, he was grateful for not turning around to expose his now shocked expression. The wisdom behind his words…although slight, impressed Zexion, opened possibility to a deeper, more thoughtful side of the boy. But then again, it could just be simple Demyx being…well, simple Demyx.

His innocence…that blank look…yes, he had to be simple Demyx. Simple as that.

And as Zexion left, and as he didn't turn around…

He'd never get to see that Demyx was still grinning…

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A nice Zexion and Demyx one-shot! I've always thought that Demyx didn't fight, not because he can't (which, if you've ever played KH2 you'll know it's SO FLIPPIN HARD to beat him…), but he just doesn't want to, since he likes living better :3