Hey everyone! It's me, Misfit, and I would like to introduce you to my first fanfic! It's a multi chapter, yaoi (Akuroku), AU fic, and yes, it has a plot line. Which I have plotted out -gasp- Anyway, please don't flame too hard, no matter how much you dislike it, because then I get sad, and emo, and, as people have told me, my hair is far too poofy for me to be emo. Go figure, huh? Anyways, I already have the first two chapters typed, so I'll be able to update fast, so please stick with me I hope you enjoy it, ta!
Warnings: Yaoi, Akuroku (AxelRoxas), slightest Zemyx, cussing
Disclaimer: Axel, Roxas, and other Kingdom Hearts related characters belong to their respective owners, Square Enix and Disney, of which I am neither.
Alright, let the story begin!!!
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S . o . l . i . t . a . i . r . e
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P r o l o g u e
I stumbled over broken pieces of glass, the scant light in the desolate realm reflecting off the shimmering fractures. I tripped suddenly, and barely caught myself before I plummeted to the ground. Looking back to see what I had slipped on, I saw a large piece of crystal sticking out of a small mound, as though planted purposefully on that very spot. I staggered back over to it and picked it up, accidentally cutting myself on the sharp edge. I hissed from the pain and happened to look down, catching a scene playing out like a movie in the small mirror.
It looked like an average Christmas setting, with a family laughing near a fireplace, a little puppy running around everyone's feet, and a small boy sitting in an old man's lap near the middle. Something about him piqued my interest and I looked closer, my nose almost touching the strange substance. Short, spiky flaxen hair, both eyes a bright sapphire blue, a slight smile gracing his porcelain features—
I dropped it with shaking fingers. I couldn't stand to look anymore, for I knew now what I was walking on. The mirror-like fragments, they were all of his shattered dreams, the hopeless remains of what could have been. I bowed my head and kept walking. The only thing that mattered now was the future. The future, that is, if we even had one.
Once upon a time, in a land not-so-far away, but just out of reach...
Chapter One: Empty Apartment
The cold, early morning wind swept around a lone figure, the slight breeze teasing already messy red locks. The man breathed in deeply, inhaling the humid air that signified the calm before the storm. Shrugging his black coat on a little tighter and digging his hands into the worn pockets, the redhead continued walking through the deserted street. He took another step, narrowly avoiding a puddle, and resumed his journey toward a place just as lonely as the road.
.A . x . e . l.
It was sprinkling by the time I arrived at my three-room apartment, the skies thundering their disapproval. Oh, and by 'sprinkling', I mean in terms of the weather here in Hollow Bastion. Basically, it was raining cats and dogs, and not just any cats and dogs, mind you, but the "lions and tigers and bears, oh my!" cats and dogs. Yes, I know bears aren't in the cat or dog family, but right then, as I was tearing off my soaked, favorite, and completely ruined black hoodie and watching the water drainage nearly flood the room, I really, really didn't care. You know why I didn't care? Well let me tell you. In short, it was the worst day of my life. It was awful, rotten, thoroughly appalling, terrible, and all those other words I'd need a dictionary or a language filter for that mean 'unpleasant'. There was one good thing that happened, though, that made it memorable. I learned the secret about life: I sucked at it.
I walked across the white tiles to my bedroom, my footsteps echoing around the room, filling it with just another empty sound. I stumbled through the doorway and collapsed onto my small bed, my feet hanging off the edge (yes, it was that short. No, I'm not just insanely tall; you just have to blame the bed on this one.) Laying face down in my red comforter, I realized I couldn't just stay under a rock (or blanket, in my case) and hope Life would look at me, say 'Haha, look at him, he's so miserable,' and pass me by completely after getting a good laugh.
I cast out a hand from under my pitiful heap of limbs and comforter and groped around almost drunkenly for a light. My hand finally came in contact with a small chain (after, of course, knocking over two books, a brush, and an alarm clock), and I tugged it toward me. There was a loud click, and light filled the room. I sat up, my back cracking loudly as I grabbed the book I had knocked to the floor, figuring I might as well do something worthwhile if I had enough time to even think about sleep. Psh, sleep is like an urban legend for me, just like breakfast and the man on the moon.
I glanced at the cover, reading the fancy, embellished script that was trying its best to pass itself off as 'real' four hundred-year-old lettering. I glared at it.
"You 'n' me, buddy. Both trying to be something we're not. And failing miserably."
I read the title, and smiled a bit. At least this was something I had heard about. Romeo and Juliet: Rewrite of the Original Romeo and Juliet by the great literary legend William Shakespeare. I flipped to the first page and began reading the book. A few minutes later, I was still stuck on the first line. All the Olde English was getting to my head; I just couldn't figure it out. Suddenly, I dropped the book and groaned loudly, knowing I would get nowhere without outside help.
Checking the alarm clock (still on the floor) to make sure it was 'after eight and before twelve,' as I had been instructed, I grabbed the phone and started to call my best friend, Roxas. I grabbed the phone, my fingers already dialing in a number they had long since memorized. Roxas could help me with Shakespeare; he probably knew it by heart already. Reading and writing literature is what he does in his spare time, crazy person that he is. He's cool though, once you get to know him. If you get to know him.
That's another thing about my best friend, he's really closed up.
It took me about two years to make even a small crack on that icy exterior, but, as he has told me in his own words, "You have managed to worm your way into my heart, your fire melting my ice, and I'm still not sure whether to be angry or grateful." But he kept talking to me after that, so I'm still hoping it's grateful. The thing about Roxas is that he views emotions as weakness, and if you show your emotions, you're showing weakness. Roxas is the type of person whose normal smile never reaches their eyes, but their real smile never touches their mouth. Someone once said that the eyes are windows to a person's soul, and, for Roxas, I guess they were right.
I was pulled back to reality by the low, boring dial tone of my phone, followed by the crackling static of someone answering.
'H-hello?" A croaky, groggy voice came through the earpiece, making me grin for the first time that day.
"Why, hello, Sleeping Beauty," I said, interpreting the croakiness as tiredness. "And how was your hundred year long nap?" I flopped back down on my bed, the phone cradled between my ear and shoulder as I picked my book back up.
"A-Axel?" Yes, okay, my name's Axel. What were my parents on when they named me? I will never know. I turned my attention back to the person on the other line as they stammered something else out. "Axel? O-oh, I thought you were- no, listen, I need to come over, right a-away." The statement was filled with urgency, and the voice cracked at the end, as though suppressing tears.
I sat up straighter, genuinely concerned. "Rox? Roxas, what's wrong?" Roxas never showed weakness, hardly ever showed any emotion, for that matter. What could've happened?
"I'll explain later, I'm c-coming now." There was a dial tone, signaling he had hung up.
"Well that's informative," I said to the empty air, but without any real anger in my words. I ducked under my bed and pulled out a spare blanket and a pillow, items I had bought specifically for when Roxas came, and laid them out on the couch in my living room/dining room/kitchen. Hey, when you've got a three-room apartment, a lot of things have to fit in one space, one very small space. I even made hot chocolate, just in case. In case of what, I had no idea, but it helped me feel just a little more prepared.
The second I made a move to grab some cookies (hey, cookies help everything, no matter the problem), the door bell to my room buzzed.
"A-Axel?" There came the same, weak voice I had heard over the phone.
"Coming!" I yelled as I ran to the door, slamming the abused, rotting piece of wood against the wall. Beyond the threshold stood Roxas, looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him, heck, more vulnerable than he probably looked when he was born. His clothes were scratched and torn, his golden hair matted, and his eyes were full of unshed tears. One pale hand clutched a worn blanket, the other a tattered suitcase.
"Shit, Roxas, wha—" I was cut off as Roxas suddenly tackled me, his pale arms wrapping all the way around my thin waist as all of his tears came pouring out in a torrential downpour that could rival the storm's outside. I hesitated briefly, and then slowly put my arms around the shaking blonde. I led my best friend over to the couch, careful not to make any sudden movements. To be honest, I had no earthly idea what I was supposed to do; I'm a guy, damn it! Even with my handicap, though, I was a best friend, and I sat down on the couch, pulling Roxas down next to me, hugging him close.
"Shhh, Rox, shhh. It's okay now, shhh," I rubbed Roxas's back soothingly, my hand moving in small circles as I continued murmuring small reassurances that were, in all likelihood, not true.
The sobbing stopped after awhile, and Roxas's breathing evened out into a regular pattern, and it seemed my friend had finally cried himself to sleep. Which is a really crappy way to fall asleep, let me tell you.
"Rox?" I put two fingers under his chin to find his eyes scrunched closed. "You awake?" I asked, using my free hand to brush a few stray hairs out of his face. Roxas's only response was to tighten his grip around my waist and bury his head into my chest. Talk about awkward. I mean, sure, he's my best friend and all, in a time of need, but something like that'll still bring a blush to my face.
I sighed and gently slid an arm under his legs, lifting his up and carrying him into my bedroom/study. Setting Roxas softly on the bed, I carefully tucked him in with the spare blanket. I grabbed my red comforter and made to leave the room, only for Roxas's hand to shoot out and grab my wrist the second I took a step away. Startled, I looked back to see one hazy sapphire eye staring back pleadingly.
"Don't…leave. Please…don't leave." The request came out muffled and frail, as though he didn't want to be saying it but knew he would have to.
"Sure, Rox, whatever you want." See, I said this on the outside, but on the inside, I was a panic-fest. What was I supposed to do? There was a line here I didn't want to cross, but it wasn't exactly painted in neon pink for me to see. Sighing heavily, I decided that my personal turmoil could wait, and Rox needed me right now, even if he'd yell at me later.
I went over to the bed and sat down as far away as possible yet still close to my small friend, only for my efforts to maintain space be ruined as Roxas latched onto me again. I sat back awkwardly, half on and half off the bed, as Roxas fell back asleep on my arm. Feeling the circulation cut off in the grip of the blonde, I sighed again and glared at the ceiling.
"You sure have a lot of explaining to do."
And then, no one guessed it, but...
A/N: Okay, that was the first chapter! I hope ya liked it! -reads last sentence- Whoa. That sounded a lot like Goofy O.o A-Hyuck! Ha. Just kidding. Please review! They're food for the writer's soul! Tell me what you thought was good and what you thought was horribly, horribly wrong. Ta for now!
Love,
Misfit