Report 71
The mission took place in Agrabah, and among the sandy dunes of the land, the Heartless found shelter and a terrain advantage. Our best attempts at flanking the enemy proved futile, and thus we engaged in ranged combat, seeking higher ground as the battles progressed. No new heartless were sited. Likewise, no anomalies in behavior occurred to me, and the mission proved to be common fare. A good number of hearts were harvested this day, and the mission bar was filled to completion with ease, albeit being a time consuming expedition. The temperature was as is standard for the arid world. I believe it safe to assume there is no aberration in this area, at least for the time being. I have yet to venture forth into the cave which is in the likeness of the jaws of a tiger again, but I believe the situation to be much the same in such a place, which is to say, lacking singularity.
Following the mission, there is nothing to report, as always. No anomaly presented itself on this day.
I'm quite sure.
Demyx wasn't one for surprises. Being a fairly laid-back individual, he preferred his daily routine simple and undisturbed. He always tried to keep a low profile, especially with superiors such as his. Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly easy to avoid the austere gaze of Saix when he shirked and passed on his responsibilities to the other members of the organization. Of course, through the years he had learnt whom he could and couldn't bestow his duties upon. However, the newer members of the organization were still unassessed, in terms of whether they would raise a fuss over his malingering and the like. Roxas especially was an undecided case, as mostly he would bear with it, but on rare occasions, his leniency would reach a limit. He shuddered, thinking back to the first time he had been punished by Xemnas: a cruel subjugation under the relentless Moogles. He had liked the creatures, with their bouncy antenna-pompom, and their petit limbs. They were docile, maybe cute, even; he had thought that was the case. He wouldn't make the same mistake again; they were slave-drivers, and he'd never forget it…
In the memories of Demyx…
The room was dimly lit, the sole source of light obscured by a small figure, floating slightly above the ground. The brown haired Nobody lifted his gaze from his spot on the floor. His arms were bound behind him, and his legs ached too much to stand. His throat was parched, and his lips, cracked. Through the haze that covered his vision, he could see the cruel silhouette of his temporary superior. "The new potions arrived-kupo…" a high voice rang through his eardrums, and he shuddered at its sugary-tone. "We need someone to lift it-kupo…" Demyx gulped. He tried to get up, but a soft paw pushed him back down. "You'll help us, right-kupo..?" Two yellow eyes stared at him through the blackness, and more flooded in behind them. Tears filled his eyes, and he felt himself being pulled up roughly, his left leg buckled, but he was raised for a second time, and led out to his fate of unloading produce for his Moogle masters…
He shot awake, and again he found himself in the dark room. It was all the same; the familiar throbbing of his limbs, the tied arms, the open door, the silhouette, everything. It was like a dream; as if he was living it over and over again, with the chirping sound of the moogles ringing loudly in his head, similar in manner to crickets crying… At least, as he remembered it.
They were the essence of the devil. Just, extremely fluffy incarnates of the highest evil…
It was with this fear in his heart that the musician approached the thirteenth's dwelling, with the purpose of apologizing for his indolent behavior. He stopped before the door, preparing himself. What should he say? He never apologized to anyone, especially not a pubescent boy that could potentially sentence him to hours of servile fearfulness under beings worse than any Caesar. He bit his thumb in thought, as he pondered what expression he should wear. He could hear Roxas talking inside his room, but there were no replies, so the youth assumed that his junior talked to himself.
"I guess that isn't exactly strange, I talk to myself all the time…" he said, contorting his face into different positions he hoped appeared regretful and apologetic. Roxas had been silent for the moment, and Demyx wondered what the sudden lapse in self-conversing was due to. The male thought for a moment, and came to what seemed like the logical conclusion. True to his oblivious nature, he was ignorant of his tendency to make highly inaccurate inferences. Thus, he figured the boy had bit his tongue, and suffered prolonged silence because of it.
Perfect! I can be his hero in this time of need! The ninth member grinned to himself, an image of himself as a knight on horseback filled his mind. Fear not Roxas, I shall gain your favor with this righteous deed. With vigor, he thrust the door to Roxas's room wide open, only to find that the blond was not in fact in pain from self-injury. Neither was he talking to himself. In fact, he wasn't even alone, but instead quite the opposite. I really should learn to knock. Thought Demyx, as his mind began to image the torture that was to come. He'd really done it now…
A burning sensation left his soul saturated. It felt like excitement, but a little bit more… enervating. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but Roxas was a bit too distracted to think about such confusing things. He was startled at first, but Xion's hands behind his head had stopped him from jerking away, and after only a moment, he felt instincts that he never had known urging him to answer her actions; a sort of payback, perhaps. Her lips were sweet, but salty too -though, he supposed this felt quite a bit better than Sea-Salt ice-cream ever did-. He unconsciously licked his lips, imagining his favorite treat, and his tongue passed over her lips as well. Xion flinched slightly, but couldn't bear to break contact, at least, before Roxas did. On cue, the boy quickly pulled away for a split-second to take a hasty breath, before rapidly pressing their mouths together again. He adjusted himself slightly, so that he could lean towards her more comfortably.
Abruptly the door flew open, and the pair quickly jerked away from each other, each turning shades of red never before reached by human complexion. Roxas averted his gaze as soon as possible, and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fade into darkness like the Cloaked Schemer. Immediately, he began fantasizing, deciding whether it was worse to have Xemnas, Xigbar of Saix standing at the doorway. He decided it didn't really matter who it was, because he was pretty sure that the whole organization would know within the next hour, unless it was Axel.
Please be Axel…
After all, there was no organization member that owed him anything. He was younger than the rest of them, and not to mention the thirteenth member; only ahead of the fourteenth, who sat beside him with the same thoughts running through her head. Please, whatever deity resides in the heavens, spare me. He wasn't religious, but you're only atheist until the plane starts falling, right?
Apprehensively, he opened his eyes to find himself facing a dumbfounded Demyx. If only I'd killed him after the mission, like I'd wanted… He sighed, accepting his fate, and looked up with the most serious gaze he could muster.
The musician blanched, frozen in the spot like one of his water sculptures. Knowing the dire state of affairs, there was only one thing he could think to do. Prostrating himself, the ninth missed the surprised expression that struck the boy before him as he drew forth the most profound persona he could feign. "Please have mercy, Roxas-dono." Too stunned to reply, the blond stared dumbly at the youth before him.
Why is he silent? Is he scorning my attempts at begging for forgiveness? Is his rage building every second I wait? Should I run for it? For the love of Poseidon, please say something…
Deciding it was best to continue, the older Nobody began again; "I was unaware of your situation. Please accepted my humble expiation for interrupting your… bonding with-"
"W-what? No I- Well… I… What?" Both males looked at each other, fear gripping their hearts. True to their innate characters, both were oblivious to the clear misunderstanding taking place before them.
"Please! Don't forsake me! I beg of you!"
"What are you-"
"Roxas-dono!"
"What-"
"Onegai-"
"Stop!" Both were silent, and Xion huffed. She placed her hands on her hips sternly and repeated herself more gently.
"Please stop... I'm not… entirely sure what you two are talking about, but I think if we forget about this, then it'll be better for everyone…" She sighed. This was already a grand mess they were in, and all the shouting wasn't exactly helping them resolving anything. The two males looked at each other and nodded vigorously. Demyx wasn't sure what higher power had just saved him from his fate, but he sure wasn't staying to find out. Roxas made a mental note to make sure Xemnas learnt nothing of what had taken place, and he was fairly sure his reports were more trusted by their superior than Demyx's words. He would have to be subtle though, as to not make the precaution too conspicuous or suspicious. No problem, he thought confidently. Subtlety is my middle name…
The thirteenth and fourteenth found themselves alone in the room once again. Awkwardly, they looked around the room in silence, accidentally catching each other's gaze, and with alacrity they turned away. Xion broke the silence.
"So..." Another awkward silence fell, causing the two to recall what they had been doing only moments ago, which in turn caused the crimson to return to their features.
"I-" They spoke in unison, and both stopped to let the other continue.
"I'm sorry." The girl said, and the blond shook his head. If he had a heart, he could would have sworn that it would be beating audibly.
Doki- Doki- Doki-
"I didn't… dislike that." He attempted to hide the embarrassment in his words, but his best efforts were in vain.
"Me neither…" She trailed off, deciding it was better to put off asking whether he would do it again for another day. Shifting uncomfortably, Roxas looked back at his female companion.
"What does this mean?"
"I'm not sure." The thirteenth though for a moment.
"Do you think we should ask Axel?"
"Hell no." The answer was almost immediate, but to be honest, Xion was considering doing it herself. She wouldn't tell him that just yet though. The black-haired Nobody took this as her cue to leave.
Unconsciously, she turned left as she walked out, unintentionally moving away from her room. She was thinking too deeply to notice however, and found herself bumping into something as she walked, breaking her from her trance.
"Well if it isn't Poppet. What a coincidence." Xigbar lied, donning his strangely debilitating grin. Xion gulped. The Freeshooter was the last person she wanted to see then, and she assumed he knew that too. "So, how'd it go?" Immediately, her cheeks flushed again, and she wondered what was prompting the strange reaction over and over.
"W-what do you mean?" The man chuckled and continued.
"Oh Poppet, you can't fool me. How far did you take it? Judging from your face, I'd say you at least reached first base."
"First base?" She repeated, confused.
"Now, now, don't feign innocence." Realizing his junior really had no idea what he was talking about, the eye-patched male continued. "You really don't know what I'm talking about? To be honest, I'm a little disappointed. Most teenage girls know this stuff before they enter highschool… I suppose I'll just have to educate you then." Xion was suddenly very afraid, and she took a step back in apprehension, yet she listened nonetheless.
The hall went dark and -after a moment- a single light returned. Xion found herself facing a blackboard with Xigbar standing at its side. An old, white lab coat over his organization uniform. He held a monocle up to his exposed eye with one hand, and a piece of white chalk in the other. Reaching up to the top of the surface, he wrote the words 'Sex Ed' and 'Mr Xigs' in all capitals. Then, he drew a large baseball pitch in the center of the board, and subsequently drew a line from the first base.
"These are the four bases; checkpoints for every male and female alike that goes to take a swing." He chuckled at his own analogy. "Every hedonist alive strives to hit a home run." Xion was about to ask what a Hedonist was, when he asked his next question.
"Now students, does everyone know what kissing is?" He asked, a disturbing sense of pleasure evident dripping from the unusual tenor of his scruffy voice. Xion, deciding it was safest to go along with him, nodded her head apprehensively. Satisfied, Xigbar continued.
"Well, first base, also known as making out, is a little bit more… exciting." The fourteenth frowned at his choice of words, but remained silent. Xigbar pulled out an oversized dictionary from his pocket. Where does he get all this..? He dropped the chalk on the side of the board, raised his voice, and changed his tone to one more haughty and mockingly profound; the tone of an underpaid middle-aged employee reduced to teaching teenagers about intimate human relations, who believed they deserved more from their Bachelor's Degree. He rifled through the pages from the back and stopped near the beginning. Clearing his throat he read; "French kissing, or deep kissing, is the act of kissing a partner's lips during amorous activity." Picking up the chalk, he scribbled the words he had dictated messily near the line he had drawn. Next, he drew a line from the second base.
"Second base…" He paused, and retrieved a stool from the space behind him, and kicked it towards her. "Take a seat." Acquiescingly, she accepted.
It lasted painful hours, as Xigbar made sure to adumbrate in his explanations, forcing his unwilling pupil to ask questions. In contrast, he made sure his elaborations left nothing to the imagination. As he concluded his speech on the fourth and final base, an exhausted, anxious, and red-faced Xion wondered whether his teachings had finally reached their conclusion.
"A spurious conjecture, young one. But no, now it's time for the fun stuff, so sit tight." The poor girl groaned, true to the identity of a high school student Xigbar had thrust upon her, who had just learnt of extended classes. "Where to start…" A devilish flare burned brightly in his eyes.
Roxas really did enjoy writing. There was a certain pleasure gained from sitting down and choosing from a wide variety of options, in order to bring together coherent, cogent reports. He supposed it was due to the lack of other types of intellectual stimulation available to the common Organization member, with the obvious exception of the chilly academic. He thought himself appropriately sagacious -proficient in the art of the pen- as he pondered whether or not the seventh reminder of normalcy to his superior was necessary. Better safe than sorry…
Reading over his work again, he felt a warming sense of achievement. He had given an average report, while delicately suggesting that words from a certain musician were highly dubious. Damn I'm good. Although being a shorter report than usual, its main purpose was to assist him and the fourteenth in remaining inconspicuous, and he believed it to be a success. Smiling foolishly to himself, the boy realized his desire for word weaving was not yet fully sated. But what else was there to write about? Allowing his mind to wander had been a mistake, as he found himself picturing a certain black-haired girl covered only by a particularly diaphanous material. Forcefully removing himself from his own thoughts, the adolescent youth decided that maybe, although its utmost secrecy was definitely necessary, the events of the evening needed to be recorded in some form. The idea slowly developed in his mind, mental gears spinning once again. Maybe, I'll make a new set of reports… Yes… Just for myself. Satisfied that he had reached an acceptable solution to his boredom, Roxas set pen to paper. I'll have to come up with a name... He decided it was best not to concern himself with relatively unimportant details at present. Rapidly, the boy allowed himself to write freely on the page -with his usual, intellectual manner, of course-.
It's a strange feeling, pressing your lips against someone else's…
