Puzzles. Everything was a puzzle…to him anyway. They were, sort of, a non-discriminate something. Something to take his mind off of all the blatantly meaningless jobs he was given when he was in the castle. It comforted him, in a way nothing else could. It was also…a something he got used to doing, day in and day out. It was a something that he could live with and not have to worry about the consequence of his actions. For, he figured, if he did the puzzle wrong he could just…always start over again. Or come back to it later. But, no. His life was by far nothing like that. Because no matter the color, size, or gender of the person if a puzzle was hard, it usually was hard for everyone. Unfortunately, he wasn't like everyone. He wasn't anyone, in truth. An empty shell cast to the side as the life and light was sucked out of him, blanketing his very being in darkness. The idea, although as morbid as it seemed, was simply a fact of his, not so alive, life and nearly nonexistent and void existent. He could deal with those facts, when thrown at him by the others around him when he smirked. Admonishing him almost angrily, of course the idea of them being angry was to say in the least idiotic given the fact it was a feeling therefore, they couldn't necessarily portray it. So, after awhile, he stopped smiling, something he believed to be a reaction at best rather than an expression of emotion. Zexion figured that he was once happy in his past life; therefore smiling was but a small remnant of it.

He remembered the time he told Xemnas his theory. He had said it sternly and if not "passionately" if that was possible, which it clearly was not. He remembered Xemnas' words, "Don't be foolish, Zexion. We can no longer remember that which was our past." He remembered cringing as Xemnas let out a hollow heartless laugh inwardly he himself chuckled. Knowing fully well that smiling and laughing was not plausible, and yet he still did it, a reaction. He laughed because...for once, just this once, he truly understood and felt the meaning of the emptiness that was his being. He knew about it before this little meeting, it just...never fully sank in. But, through this private meeting he became truly aware...and hence began his musing on his life. He became silent, more silent than before, and every time Xemnas saw him, the silver haired man smirk. Like a satisfactory smile, knowing that he had knocked down one of his members dreams, hopes. Zexion never did like that. He really in truth didn't like anyone. It didn't matter though. Nothing ever really did. It's just the facts of his, and everyone else's life. They were living in a perpetually never-ending cycle of neither dead, nor alive. And the only way to break its hold was to gain a heart.

His life was meaningless. All their lives were. Trying to satisfy their hunger by gaining something they could never truly have. For...what if they did regain their hearts, and become whole again? Would it really be worth it? What of all the people they killed trying to achieve their goal? They wouldn't just accept them with open arms, it would be better if they stayed non-existent, no one cared about them anyway, at least that's what he thought. And yet...something within him, something buried beneath all the shadows and facade of content, he had to show day in and day out until he truly did become whole again, pulled him, edged him on, nagged and angered him to a point where he might burst and lose it. It puzzled him, it truly did, and he didn't know how to solve it. Another thing puzzled him as well. At this very moment, actually.

Sleep. He was indeed asleep, his vision pure black, like the familiar darkness. They didn't actually need sleep. Considering they weren't actually alive, and therefore didn't need the energy or rejuvenation it gave. Food as well. Here he was, stating clearly and adamantly, that they need neither food nor sleep. And yet, lying next to his bed, on his oak night table, was a plate and glass. Food. He was unnaturally hungry last night, the storm that came had awoken this urge to eat, like nothing ever before. Everyone, he believed, was fast asleep as well. He couldn't remember the time where he actually watched Vexen fall asleep at his desk, he was taking notes, and the next thing he saw, surprised him, he smirked as he saw the older man steadily asleep on his desk, a pen still in hand, he walked out of the room, putting his notes to the side and closing the door. He knew fully well that Demyx was quite possibly the only one up last night. For...it was like that time...long ago. A few years after Demyx had joined the organization, and he was not tired, nor able to keep still.

He walked down the dully-lit hallways gazing at nothing in particular. Maybe the black landscape of the deserted city below him, or...the white washed walls ahead of him. Either way, he was silent. Unobtrusive to anyone around him, like a shadow almost. His eyes swiveled, from the floor, to the kitchen door, as a melodious thrum came from behind them. In his mind he knew who was behind that door, and he smiled a little. Maybe he was grateful for the company, or, maybe it was because he was anticipating the conversation he was about to have. But no matter which way he fitted the pieces. The puzzle that was Demyx, was the one and only thing that actually made him...feel different. The sent he gave off…it wasn't like anything before. It was like…a grassy meadow after a summer rain shower. A beach empty and deserted with only the crashing of the waves to break the silence. Like drops of water falling rhythmically from the sky against one's window. Demyx…made him feel…something he never felt, and it was this same boy, who he secretly admired in every which way possible, even if he was a higher number.

The boy himself was a mystery to him, of course it wasn't just because he had no past, they all had no pasts, what puzzled Zexion was...how carefree, how energetic, how...emotional Demyx was. It puzzled him to know, that somewhere out there, there were others just like him, the musical sort, who had hearts, had emotions, had feelings, and yet...they still didn't compare to the blondes melody, tune, or rhythm. It amazed him to a point where...Zexion was almost envious; he wished he could feel that way, but sadly…he couldn't. So. He spent more time with the blonde than anyone else, and in doing so; he tried to fit together the pieces of a very complex puzzle. One, which to this very day, he still hasn't figured out…yet. But, he didn't mind it, not one bit.

He stopped at the white door, pressing a gloved hand lightly on the smooth wooden frame. Another thrum, and he closed both eyes listening to the melody. He pushed gently and the door silently swung open, and there, sitting on the counter top, sitar in one hand and nestled against his body, and in the other a pen and beneath it was a piece of paper. He muttered to himself as he scribbled, crossed out and then huffed, blowing a few of his bangs upwards as he looked up, surprised. He squeaked, jumped off the counter and looked at his sitar, almost frightened, and if not worried. He was about to send it away...

"Z-Zex...ion..." he gulped, "I-I'm sorry!" Zexion sighed at the shaky tone of Demyx's voice.
"P-Please don't tell Superior on me! I-I know he gets mad when he finds out I've been fooling around with my music...please don't say anything!" Demyx cried biting his lip. Zexion found this understandable. Xemnas, when angered, could be extremely dangerous, not as dangerous as Saix, but...close enough. He didn't really feel nor care though, just because he had no feelings otherwise he would've, most likely, not have told anyone anyway. He wanted to call the boy before him pathetic, but refrained. Instead he waved his hand dismissingly.

"Demyx...what're you doing?" He asked monotonously as he stared at the boy, who was fingering his sitar.
"I-I-I couldn't sleep! T-The rain...it always makes me unable to sleep! It gives me such great song ideas!" Demyx replied almost excitedly.

"Let me hear." Demyx blinked at the dark blue haired young mans request.
"You actually want to hear...my song?"
"Well...you were staying up all night to write it, am I correct?" Demyx nodded, grabbing the paper from the counter.
"Then. It shouldn't go to waste. All your effort, I mean. Besides...I couldn't sleep anyway." Zexion mumbled. Demyx giggled a little but stopped as Zexion looked back up at him, with a glare almost. The blonde cleared his throat, and ran a hand along the three strings of the sitar. Zexion noted, while the blonde played, with much detail that Demyx's fingers were quite deft and nimble they had to be actually. For him to play that instrument so well.

"I watched as the rain was falling, but I couldn't see your face.
My heart ached even in the lovely weather as I stood there in place.
You were gone from my sight and I was soaking wet, and cold.
My heart was gone, and you broke it, I just wanted you to know.
These empty tears that I cry, no longer make any sense.
I thought that I'd forget you but you're in every breath.
And I can't stop my aching heart, even if you're gone.
I just wanted you to know that the rain has stopped.
Rain has stopped.
Since you have gone."

Demyx strung the last few notes, and then the room fell silent. Zexion had been sitting there as Demyx played, nibbling on a piece of bread his eyes closed. The tune was upbeat. Not as mellow as the others he'd heard from the boy. Something about the presence of the room, the presence of them both, changed. He blinked looking up at a pair of blue eyes.

"What'd ya' think?" Demyx asked sitting back against a chair he'd taken up. Zexion rolled it around in his head.
"It was...fair." he stated, not knowing if that was the right response to give or not. In truth...the song hurt. A heart? Is that what happens when one has a heart? He was so curious to know...he wanted...he wanted to feel.

"Say Demyx?"
"Hm?" the blonde had gone immediately back to strumming on his sitar again. Zexion inwardly sighed. Another few tunes came out, along with mumblings as Demyx put the pen between his teeth and crumpled up the paper.

"If we ever...get hearts." Zexion paused shaking his head his gloved hand over his left eye he smirked.

"I mean. When we do get hearts. Would you…like to come with me?" Demyx by this time had his mouth gaping open and the only noise to follow his action was the soft clinking of the pen, to the floor below. He blinked a few times, not sure what to say.

"Y-You really want me to come with you? Zexion?" Demyx asked awe clearly in his voice. Zexion nodded his hand moving to his chin.

"I've been thinking about it…for a rather long time." He said dully as he got up and walked over to Demyx's chair, placing one hand one either side of the blonde, who backed up against the chair a little as Zexion moved closer.

What was it? What did he have…no one else did. All the others…were missing something, but not him. Demyx made him feel…

"You make me feel…like I have a heart…" he whispered as his left hand came up from underneath Demyx's chin tilting his head so that he was looking directly at him. He really didn't know why he'd done it. Nor, how either. Another unsolvable puzzle. One that he truly could never solve. Maybe it was…because he had nothing to grasp. Nothing to show proof of his existence. That maybe…by trying to gain something he could never posses it was tearing him up inside. Like a vicious storm, or raging fire. But, with Demyx he felt at peace, no longer waging war within his head, or thinking. He just did things.

His lips pressed lightly against the blondes his chest brushing up against his as he leaned forward. But he pulled away quickly. Not wanting to be caught like that. Demyx just sat there and blinked, unable to response to his superior's motive for that action, or the consequences that would come. Zexion stood straight.

"Write some more songs for me, won't you Demyx?" he heard the blonde scoffed.

"You kiss me and then ask me to do something for you! Zexion, what was…"

"I don't…I don't know. Will you write them, or not? I must tell you, I'm not very good with words, nor writing. You wouldn't want to have to sing to them…" Zexion turned around, now facing the door.

"Where are you going?" he heard Demyx ask almost pitifully, like he didn't want to be left alone.

"Some of us…have more productive things to do." He replied with a hidden smirk.

"Music is productive!"

"Only for the ones who write it." He retorted.

"That's not true, lots of people use music to study and stuff." Demyx said getting up.

"Ah. But the real question is…how well do they do on the material they studied." Zexion replied taking one final look at the blonde, whose back was turned, as he gazed out the window.

"Th-Thanks. Zexion." Demyx sighed, looking at the floor. "You're the only one…you know. Who ever listened to my music, willingly anyway." Zexion nodded, and then walked to the door. He never really understood why he'd kissed the blonde. It just felt…right, in a way. Considering they couldn't express emotions. So. He took it as a form of a thank you something he rarely, if ever, did. He turned around looking back at Demyx from his position before the portal.

"Thank you. Demyx." The blonde blinked as he heard the whoosh, suggesting Zexion had left, he couldn't respond in time, though. And he looked up, only to see the plain white kitchen wall.

From that moment on Zexion never had told anyone about that little incident. Not a soul. He could've told Lexaeus. He actually could've told the man anything, personal or not. And he would sit there silently, nodding, only saying a few words that reminded him more of a cryptic code than advice. But no. Instead he kept it between the blonde and himself and every time it rained, down pour, or drizzle. He'd find Demyx's scent, and appear in the room with the blonde who had always taken up his sitar, no matter what time he arrived. And he…well he would come and sit, eyes closed, as the music played and silently listen, never making a sound. Sometimes he would bring a puzzle or two, to do as well, because…he learned, and apologized for, that music was not just productive for the player but for the listener as well. And some of his finished puzzles were proof of just that.

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up in bed, his blue bangs falling over his right eye as they both narrowed.

"What a strange dream to have." He mused shaking his head, as he sniffed the air. Everyone's scent was present…except his.

"Demyx…" he let out a sigh as he tossed his bed sheets to the side and placed both bare feet on the floor. He twitched a little at the coldness and then got changed, putting his coat and boots on, for he never walked around the castle bare foot, it just wasn't his thing, he guessed. A knock, and he turned to see a showering mop of dirty blonde hair, and a pair of cynical eyes peering at him from the open door.

"Zexion. Where is Demyx?" Vexen asked slightly annoyed.

"I was just going to go find him." He replied walking out his door as Vexen moved aside.

"You better find him quickly, then. Superior is having a meeting soon and you know how he gets when anyone is late." He was going to say something to the extent, that's because Superior acts like a baby, but he refrained and only nodded as he heard Vexen sigh and disappear through a portal. He narrowed his eyes sniffing again. He went back to his room, remembering the plate and cup from the night before and he made a portal to Demyx's room. He blinked as he pushed open the unlocked door.

"Demyx. Are you in here?" he asked, getting no reply as he looked at an empty room. The boy's sitar wasn't even present, which puzzled Zexion even more. Something was wrong. Extremely wrong. He turned and made another portal to the kitchen standing now before the white washed door, that he had passed through on so many occasions to hear the melodious tune of the sitar. He pushed on the door a deep foreboding rising within him. He gasped. The only sound reverberating through the empty kitchen was the sound of glass shattering on the tile floor. He looked, his eyes wide.

"D-Demyx!" he ran over to the blonde's unmoving body. He slipped a little as he saw the pool of blood on the floor around the blonde. He stepped backwards, his eyes going to the table and the pieces of paper on top of it. He snatched it. His eyes reading the note that was undoubtedly written in blood.

I see you've found this note…number six. Too bad for your little friend, though. You best watch your back. You're next.

"You who are in seek of the truth, be puzzled no more...for you are the master of your own fate."

What the hell was going on? What did it mean…Demyx was dead…he was alone, and yet. The smile on the boys face was a smile of content. Happiness. Had Demyx really been happy when he died? He couldn't bear to stand there; he crumpled the paper between his left hand and left the kitchen, where the night before, he had left the lights on.

"S-Superior!" Everyone turned around. They all stared at an odd sight. A disgruntled Zexion. Xemnas eyebrow rose as he watched the blue haired boy stand before the long marble table, a nobody symbol etched in its center. Surround the room, was thirteen large throne-like chairs. Pillars stood at all four corners of the massive room supporting its white walls.

"Zexion? What's wrong? And where is Demyx?" Xemnas asked in his dull non-caring tone.

"Demyx is dead Superior!" Zexion yelled back. Everyone blinked. Silence.

"Is that so? What a pity. Do you know who has committed Demyx murder, Zexion?

"I can't believe you! You don't even care! Your members are dying, and yet none of you even care…" Zexion murmured his eyes burning with anger.

"I asked you a question, Zexion."

"No. Sir, I don't know…"

"Very well. We shall be on alert. There is a trespasser in our castle."

"What about Demyx! Are you just going to leave him, in the kitchen!" Zexion yelled back. He couldn't stop himself; he didn't know what the hell was going on with him. He was digging himself deeper.

"And why do you care so much about him, Zexion? He never did much for this organization anyway. Now. If you care so much about number nine you can go and get rid of his body yourself, and don't come back till you do." Xemans replied malice stringed through his voice as he leered at the boy, his orange eyes blaring in the white rooms light. Zexion turned around, letting out a shaky sigh as he gripped the not in his left hand and walked off into a portal. Appearing back in his dimly lit room.

"Zexion…what's gotten into you?" a voice asked him. Vexen.

"I'm not in the mood Vexen, I suggest you leave me…now." He paused his eyes widening. This scent…it wasn't the scientists. No. It was the scent that surrounded Demyx. His killer! Zexion spun around his eyes darting back and forth they narrowed.

"Who's there…I know you're not Vexe-" he gasped as he turned to see Vexen leering at him, a smile of pure malice spread across his face. His hand shot up to Zexion's bangs, the one covering his right eye, and he pushed them away exposing his right eye.

"My, my. What a pretty eyes you've got…Zexion." Zexion hissed and smacked the man's hand away, and the image of Vexen disappeared. Zexion's hair fell back into place but something was off. Terribly off. "The power of illusion?" he gasped as he slammed the note onto his desk, his eyes re-reading over the message. An icy laugh, and he gasped again. He panted as he saw blood drip onto the note. His right hand rose shakily to his bangs, now wet and dark with blood. He let out a cry as he gripped the rim of the desk, his right hand over his right eye, which was now bleeding profusely.

"W-What did you do…what did you do to my eye!" he managed to gasp as he saw with his left eye the pool of blood forming on the desk. There was so much. All from his eye? He hissed as he the pain got worse.

"Oh no, Zexion. You've had this wound all your life…your eyes. One, which can see color, and the other…that sees the true colors of your world. Black. And White." He heard a voice whisper in his ear, and then let out a heartless laugh, as he spun around. No one was there, though. He hissed as the pain intensified. He gripped his right eye harder as his vision in that eye became blackened, more and more. The warm liquid running down his face and chin dripping onto the floor as he staggered to the door. Vexen! He needed the scientist. He could fix his eye. Tell him what was wrong…

"Going so soon? Zexion? Why. I haven't even gotten to the fun part, yet." A man in an organization coat replied as Zexion sniffed the air, he backed up just in time to dodge a silver dagger. He rolled to his left as the man stabbed downward, missing him that time, but he arched upwards turning to Zexion and sliced into the boy's exposed back. He hissed as he felt the daggers clean edge cut open the top of his shoulder as he tried to get away. The man grabbed him by his left arm, spun him around and slammed him into the wall. He grimaced his right eye closed tightly as black dried blood covered it. He glared with his left.

"Why…why did you kill Demyx!" He whispered. The man snorted.

"Fool. You don't deserve to live, if you don't know that answer!" The last thing he saw was the man's hand rushing up from the side. A cheap hit. Since it was his right side. Then next thing he saw…was utter, and complete darkness. Not like it was any different from when he was awake. This just seemed more…peaceful. A long silence, and then.

A shattering. Something like glass. A young boys cry and a woman's shouting. A smack of a hardened hand against skin and bone.

"I-Ienzo!" A woman cried. "Shut up! Stop trying to comfort him!" a man yelled as he yanked the woman by the hair. A young boy, whose right eye was now bloodied and wounded, looked up from his position on the floor. A puzzle piece was in his shaking hand. He sobbed, as the pain intensified in his eye and he stood shakily to his feet. A hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder shaking him and forcing him to look up at the man, the one who had caused him so much pain.

"I told you not to hang out with those boys, anymore. Ienzo." His father whispered gripping his shoulder tightly. He whimpered as a shooting pain ran down his arm, as he tried to break his fathers grip.

"They aren't like us…why do you insist ON DISOBEYING ME!" He yelled as his hand came up, fast and quick, and slammed itself into his right side. He gasped as he fell once more.

"S-Stop! Please Shiu! He's learned his lesson!" a woman, who was his mother, cried out desperately.

"Get out of my sight, you disobedient brat!" his father spat, and he glared, tears forming in his left eye as he got to his feet, and then ran. Ran with everything he had, as he rushed out into the stormy night, never looking, or turning back.

He sobbed, the pain in his right eye was a little better, but it was still closed shut. Swollen from the glass shards that had pierced it. The dried blood on his face and neck was being washed off by cold, tuneless, rain. He shivered sniffing as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm.

"I-Ienzo!" he turned at the sound of a familiar, friendly voice. Braig. The young man with the long ponytail gasped.

"IENZO! W-What happened to your eye! Hey! Ienzo!" Bragi shook him looking at his bloodied right eye.

"God…who did this?" Braig asked, his eyes narrowing at the boy's silence treatment. He grabbed Ienzo by the shoulder, and the boy winced, breaking away and huddling closer to himself.

"S-Shui…" he sniffed. Braig's yellow eyes widened and then narrowed.

"Son of Bitch! Your own father! God damn it! Ienzo why didn't you tell us sooner!" Braig yelled clenching his fists.

"Braig. Now isn't the time…" Dilan replied stepping out from the surrounding forest. The rain. It was so peaceful. After all he went through. Day in, and Day out. It puzzled him as to how normal he still was, even if his father wasn't…the nicest person. He still managed to forgive him. His left eye watered up tears about to flow. He just wanted to sleep. He gripped Braig around the chest, taking the older boy by surprise.

"Briag! I-I sorry…I have nowhere else…" Braig looked down at the soaking wet boy, and then to Dilan, who nodded.

"It's alright. Ienzo. You're welcome anytime." He replied smiling as the boy sobbed into his waist, his red tears mixing in with the clear, pure, rain.

"Come on. We better get Even to check out that eye of yours."

He gasped as he awoke from the dream, his body shaking. He looked at his hands they were in some sort of contraption. His head as well. He tried to pull out, but. He was stuck, and he didn't know how to break free. Tears. His gloved left hand gently wiped away the liquid from under his left eye. Was he…actually crying?

"NO! It can't! We can't…"

"Express emotions. Is that what you wanted to say, Zexion?" the man appeared, walking out from the shadows. He looked down at the boy, who was in a guillotine. His right bangs hanging over his bloodied right eye.

"You know. The reason for your power. Don't you? The ability to smell others scents." He chuckled as he walked forward stopping as he summoned something into his hand. "Your eyesight. You compensate for that, with your ability. But. I bet you never really thought of it that way, am I correct?" Zexion didn't answer. He just stared at the floor, his right eye throbbing. Why was no one coming? Didn't anyone realize he was missing for a prolong amount of time? He tried, with little effort, to break free of his imprisonment, but he was tired. His left eye stared at the dark floor. He couldn't tell where he was. Some sort of torture chamber? Since when had there been any such thing in the castle? He looked at the man as he slammed the piece of paper onto the floor, a pencil along side it. He grabbed Zexion's chin, he tried to break away, but to no avail.

"This is a puzzle." He motioned to the paper, his eyes flickering. "Figure it out, and you live. Otherwise. Well…you should know." He smiled as he let go of Zexion and stood strait. He waved his hand and a clock appeared, suspended in mid-air.

"Time's ticking…Zexion." His eye looked down at the paper. The constant tick of the clock becoming annoyingly, and obnoxiously loud as he tried to figure out the puzzle.

That which one doesn't know has been right there beside him all along. From dawn's ascent. To evening's awakening. Who am I is but a fragment of the puzzle. The real question is…who are you? Zexion.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Tick. Tick. Tick. He looked up at the clock, eye narrowing. The pain on his right side becoming increasingly annoying. And then…silence. He gulped as the clock dissipated into a purplish black smoke.

"Time's up. You. Lose...boy" the man said a smile spreading across his face, exposing point canines. Zexion gasped, as he saw strands of the man's hair as he briskly turned and began to walk away. SILVER!

"NO!" He yelled looking up his left eye wide as the last thing he heard was the snap of a rope, and the feathery whoosh of a steel sliver blade cutting downward through the air.

It surprises me…Ienzo.

I-Ienzo…is that what my name was? Heh. I understand now. Who you were…I understand…who I…was.

To think. Everyday of your life, you went about solving puzzles. Day in, and day out. And yet, the greatest puzzle of all…was your own life.

An empty kiss. On that lonesome night.

You who don't have hearts…shall be redeemed.

The eye which sees nothing but the truth is blinded by that which is so close. An eye masking the past of one's empty self.

The silence that binds, as the crimson shower continues to fall down.

You who lack a heart. Are now at peace with one's self.

You held the key to your own fate…the turning point of one's life.

The secret. Unknown to the eye of its beholder.

The chain. Invincible as it wraps around you, constricting all connected to it.

A chain of memories, far too old to remember. The rust of one's time…has made the links brittle and weak.

A chain of memories…

Your fate. Has been sealed.

Be at peace.

Wow...um...sorry for the longness? Dx I truly am. Geez...I didn't mean for it to end up that long...and I didn't even put in all the flash backs I would've liked. But. Eh. They weren't too important...UGH! Yeah, so Zexion kicked the bucket...I shall flee from fangirls now... :jumps out a window: Read and Reveiw!