A/N: Hey! Yes, it's another one shot, because I didn't have time to work on Solitaire, but didn't want to study, so I wrote this in bits and pieces. I think I'm just going to make a whole line of one-shots and post them as one story… I don't want too much clutter, y'know?

Dedication: The lovelies xdearest mistake and AnimePenguin, because I am a firm believer in the fact that a half plus a half equals a whole.

Warnings: ANGST! Oh, my, the angst. It is here. AND THERE'S A LOT OF IT!

Pairings: Akuroku if you squint. Hard. And tilt your head a bit.

Disclaimer: Well, AnimePenguin said that if she owned KH she would give it to me for Christmas, but she doesn't, so I guess it's still not mine. One of these days, oh yes, one of these days…

Half Empty

(…never half full)

It was empty. Oh, so, heartbreakingly, breathtakingly, earth-shatteringly empty.

Roxas pivoted on his right leg, bringing his hand around to thrust forward, then up, cutting in a crescent shape. The swordsman pulled his blade back with a sickening squelch as acrid, burning liquid sprayed his arm. He whirled left, killing one more. Then two. Then three, four, ten, hundreds, thousands, more and more and more. Roxas lost track of how many lost their life to his sharp steel. What was the point in counting, anyway? They were nothing. He was just emptying what was already empty.

He danced away, twirling his twin blades through the air, pink, crystal hearts raining upward as the blood -was it even blood?- of the Heartless rained down. And, you know what they say: you can't stop the rain.

His feet pounded the torn, blood-splattered ground in a constant rhythm, each step signifying another death, another heart, another nothing gone— or was it never there in the first place? Roxas didn't know. Didn't care. No, couldn't care.

Drenched, almost black hair lay plastered across his forehead, small rivulets of blood, darkness, rain and sweat running into his tired eyes, his muscles moving automatically as nothing fought against nothing for nothing.

The blonde faltered for a second, concentration slipping, and was rewarded by the feel of three dark claws raking across his back. He bit his lower lip to keep from screaming and took a step back, tensing his left leg as he waited for the Heartless to try again. He felt the air change slightly and flipped backward as the creature lunged mindlessly. Roxas brought his black sword, aptly named Oblivion, down as he was in the air, slicing the Heartless cleanly through the middle.

The boy -man?- landed evenly on his feet, breathing hard, looking around for anything, anything here in this nothing that could give him a brief rest. Except… that's all he found. Nothing, nothing in black bodies, writhing and twisting with acid yellow eyes, oozing puss and black poison, clacking its many claws and opening great, empty maws, looking for something to fill its great void.

And there was blood. Streams, rivers, lakes of black blood with small patches of discolored red, enough to walk waist deep in, enough to paint the city blacker than it already was.

Most of all, there was no respite, no stopping, no relenting. Waves of nothingness, oceans of nothingness, vast universes of nothingness, closing in on his insubstantial something. Because that's what he had; he was sure of it. He had something, something to fight for- surely that was worth acknowledging. He had a goal, he had a dream, he had a will, and, as they also said, where there's a will there's a way. Roxas didn't know who they were, but a lot of people trusted them, so he supposed he would too. Roxas knew he had something, so he kept fighting, and he wasn't going to give it up, no, not for all the nothingness in this poor, sorry, nothing world.

A blow from behind sent him falling, many more hits following as his grip on his blades loosened, as did his grip on consciousness.

Oh well. Roxas always did know he wouldn't die a peaceful death, not while he still had something. He always thought that he would die alone, too, with nothing by his side. And that's what there was, right? Nothing. It was probably better to go out fighting, anyway. He guessed it was time for the 'Last Defiance', as all of them said, though he doubted his death would be quite as heroic as they always said martyrdom was.

Roxas shook some unknown liquid out of his eyes and dug Oblivion into the pavement in front of him, leaning heavily on it as he stood, ignoring the accumulating gashes on his body as he pointed Oathkeeper at the storm cloud-covered sky, its elegantly sculpted handle scored in multiple places, the white paint almost completely obscured by the caked black blood decorating it.

"And from the east came a great energy, a great something, new and unknown," Roxas whispered, pouring all of his power, all of his being, all of his something into the words. "Thin beams illuminating the unknown, swatches of white cutting through the omnipresent dark, and so, I throw the windows of my soul wide open to this dawn, to this light!"

The sky split open, the overbearing, grey, miserable clouds parted, and through that hole, through that rift, came a faint trickle of light, then another ray slashed through the looming darkness, and another, and another, until there was a steady stream flowing onto the barren battleground, forcing the nothings back to where they came from, running in fear of the light.

Roxas allowed himself a gentle smile, a peaceful expression crossing his face as he fell to his hands and knees in the filth, the energy slowly leaving his body. That last attack… really was the last. And Roxas didn't care any more. He had won… beat back the nothing. It didn't even matter that it would be back, no, because Roxas wouldn't be. The pain he had ignored before had come back in full force, but now, now it was slowly slipping away. Everything looked blurry, though if the lack of clarity was from tiredness or tears, he couldn't be sure.

The last thing he remembered was a warm, fire-inducing hand on his shoulder, a desperate voice shouting for him to wake up, to open his eyes, to for God's sake, Roxas, wake up or I swear I will kill you all over again, and something wet landing on his cheek, which brought out another happy smile from the blonde. It was far better to die in the arms of a friend than in the clutches of nothing.

End note: I warned you, oh yes I did, can't say I didn't. I'm going to write a slightly cracky yet happy little bit next and post it after this one. Who knows, I might be able to get a whole line of one-shots going. The fic'd be like, a poly-shot. So… yeah. I'ma go study and work on Solitaire now. More to come.

Oh yeah, Roxas's attack is equivalent to the suicide attack Axel uses in the game. I figured all Nobodies might have a sacrifice-skill, so I made one for Roxas. Words are just that… words. Maybe it's a summon technique? Meh, I'll think it over and get back to you…