a/n: Finally, the third chapter! 8D
Inspiration hit suddenly as soon as final exams ended.
Huh. I wonder why. xD This chapter raises even more
questions. Sorry about that. They'll be answered in time.
I promise.

- x -

iii.

- x -

Neon lights flicker warily as she walks by, unsure what a girl like that is doing in a place like this. Silently, the girl wonders the same thing, but continues on into the night, ignoring the winks and leers from passing windowpanes. The orchestra of humming air conditioners and barking dogs plays the same old song for all to hear, but only one set of ears is listening as if for the first time.

"Kairi?"

The voice belongs to a man of eighteen, and although young, he generally puts off an air of success that even the hardest working businessman can not produce. But today his signature smirk is turned downward into a hard, thin line that is too straight-edged for a man of his reputation.

The unmistakable stench of humanity envelops the pair standing by the rusting doorway. There is no money to wipe it away, here. No Dior perfume or expensive Italian wine. It is unmarred in all of its imperfection; untainted in its faults. (Welcome to the real world, honey. Enjoy your stay).

The young girl who the name belongs to feels blood rush to her cheeks at the mere sight of the young man before her, despite the heavy frost that coats the entire situation. His call had been urgent, and no matter of Sora's disapproval or the shady location could have stopped her from coming.

And there she is.

A girl.

With a man.

In an alleyway.

Romantic, right?

Kairi's right foot takes a tentative step toward him, ignoring the fact that the puddle her shoe had just met is most likely going to ruin the leather. Because the look in his eyes is that of a man trying too hard to pull himself together; the green is cracked and dulled in places where a mischievous twinkle used to reside.

His next words are sudden.

"Come with me."

She does.

- x -

The sound of rainfall begins to resonate throughout the tiny room. Demyx doesn't know why, but the soft pitter-patter of water running down the sides of the ancient brick walls is relaxing somehow. A child's toy piano sits dejectedly on one side of the room, its keys drowning in the white dust of lonely years. The young man looks at the instrument with something like sympathy, and then proceeds to sit down Indian-style in front of it.

"Hello, there. My name's Demyx. What's yours?" He whispers softly to the chipped plastic, letting the raindrops form a tempo as his fingers settle on the aged keyboard.

Memories of callused fingertips, Jimi Hendrix records, and a guitar case full of change rush back to him.

And the music begins.

It's a beautiful and haunted tune that plays with an almost eerie innocence. It swells as the notes become louder, more insistent. Life and love and loss all swim through the flow of dotted-halves and wholes that rise from the small piano, and they tangle themselves in Demyx's greasy knots of blonde hair. They writhe and dance in time to the music, which hurts, but Demyx doesn't care. It's better this way.

If someone was to enter the room at this particular moment, all they would hear is the strange sound of fingers hitting plastic keys. Nothing more, nothing less.

Because the toy piano had been broken for many years. Its battery-induced life had ended long ago.

But Demyx keeps playing, keeps moving, keeps hearing. The music is his own, tonight.

- x -

"Kairi, it is my greatest pleasure to introduce to you the lovely Naminé."

Dry charm hastily covers up any waver in his voice, any sign of weakness. After all, he was raised to wink and make respectable young ladies swoon, no matter what else was going on that made his ridiculous lifestyle seem unimportant.

The girl called Naminé studies her scuffed black boots with great interest.

Kairi pushes back a lock of her hair timidly, the blue of her quick glance toward Axel staining the thick air around them. "Um… nice to meet you. Naminé, right?"

The girl moves her head slightly. Kairi takes this as a nod.

Axel puts his hand on Kairi's shoulder (a touch so electric) and his tone of voice changes from bitter to soft. "Naminé needs our help. One of her friends has been…" He pauses for a moment, and his next words are harsher, rawer than they had been before. "… Well, he's not in the best frame of mind right now. He's been dealing with a lot lately, and I just think everything hit him all at once." A defeated sigh tumbles clumsily out of the corner of his lips, "He's sick, Kairi. Physically and emotionally. We – Naminé doesn't know what to do."

Kairi blinks. Once. Twice. Her brain attempts to process the information he fed her in his little speech, but something just doesn't make any sense.

"Axel… What does this have to do with you?"

A dangerous look flashes in those guarded green eyes, silencing the question.

Kairi fidgets uncomfortably for a minute, feeling altogether out of place in this abandoned building (that she feels is filled with secrets much darker than the scandal of the Upper East Side), but breaks the tension with yet another inquiry.

"So, why am I here?"

This seems to perplex the young man; he runs a hand through his wild red hair, and opens and closes his mouth like a puppet with a mute puppeteer. Naminé chances a glimpse upward out of her curtain of insecurity, as if she, too, would like to know.

"I just… I mean, you were the first person who came to mind and I… Well, I really… I thought that maybe you'd be willing to help." Kairi raises an eyebrow at this explanation, but he continues, "Or at least, I got that impression the other night. I thought I could sense something… different about you." When Kairi doesn't reply, Axel's expression goes from embarrassed to angry with a flicker of the buzzing fluorescent lights. "But maybe I was wrong."

Kairi idly kicks a bottle cap with the toe of her red flats, unconsciously pulling her hands into fists at her sides. "And what if you were? This still wouldn't make this situation any better or any worse! I mean, I can't just leave now that – it would be – I'm not that – UGH!" The rain outside drums louder on the roof in time to her outburst, punctuating it. "Are you freakin' crazy?! Is that it?! I hardly know you! And –"

"And yet here you are, standing in front of me, all dressed up for a night on the town." Axel's voice is low, and the danger that Kairi had seen before has taken residence once more inside his eyes. He lets out a humorless laugh. "You're perfectly willing to go out to dinner with a complete stranger, but helping a complete stranger is out of the question. Right. You really aren't any different from anyone else..."

One. Two. Three. Each step he takes toward her clicks ominously on the concrete floor.

"My mistake."

The words shoot out like bullets and wedge themselves inside of her chest, the shells of the letters clattering to the ground. As she takes a step back from the impact, Kairi swears that she sees smoke curl up from the corners of his mouth.

Images of plastic smiles and sneering faces race throughout her mind; smileforthecamerastandupstraightdon'tspeakunlessspokentoallpressisgoodpressyouhavetoclawyourwaytothetopyoucan'teattodaywe'reallfakeheredarlingSTOP.

Kairi uncurls her fingers and studies the red crescent moons on her palms.

"Who is he?"

Axel looks up, caught off guard, and snaps, "Who is who?"

"The boy who needs help, of course." She says it so casually, like one asks a friend to afternoon coffee. It surprises even herself, but she's too detached to show it.

The broken doll (Naminé, Naminé) slides her crystal blue orbs over to Kairi, and whispers so softly that the other girl has to strain to hear it…

"His name is Roxas."

- x -

A door opens slowly, painfully, and reveals a room exactly like all of the others (lifeless and hollow and gray). Only in this one, there is a boy. A boy who used to have hair like spun gold and eyes like the sky on a summer morning. A boy who used to have a smile on his face and a spark in his heart. A boy who used to have dreams and goals and hopes for happy endings.

But not anymore.

Life has given him death, if only in the metaphorical sense.

And as Demyx lies down next to him on the dirty mattress, he sees what used to be. He misses it, he needs it.

"Don't worry, Roxas," he says, affectionately stroking his brother's hair, "Nam is bringing an old friend to aid us."

The walls listen closely as Demyx sings a dusty lullaby.

"Don't worry, don't worry."

- x -

Hayner wakes up to white and blue and green.

White lights, blue sheets, green eyes.

And a smile.

"Glad to see you're awake. My name is Olette."