Nineteen Days With Demyx

Day 6 – Demyx Tries to Cook


It was a good day. Despite the comments about the whole 'waking them up with his screaming' thing that Demyx was constantly receiving from various organization members, he couldn't be in a better mood (unless, of course, he had chocolate. Because chocolate puts everyone in a better mood. And helps when one has just been attacked by a dementor.)

Demyx had made a decision whilst watching Saïx in the kitchen that morning. He wanted to learn to cook. Cooking was a form of art right? Like music! So naturally, Demyx felt the need to explore the concept of creating fancy shmancy looking dishes that tasted good as a plus. Of course, Demyx couldn't stay focused on Xaldin's copy of Cooking for Dummies for longer than five minutes, so he resorted to getting help from the member who happened to hate him the most: Larxene.

Knock knock.

Silence. Hmm… Maybe Larxene didn't hear him? He'd just have to knock louder then!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNO-

"WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT!?" Larxene stuck her head out, holding a towel to her chest. "All I wanted to do was take a fricking shower, and what do I get for wanting to be sanitary? An obnoxious idiot pounding on my door, and a video camera in the corner of the room!" She mumbled something about living with a bunch of pervs, thoroughly peeved.

Demyx had turned off his brain at the moment, blocking out every word Larxene had said.

"So Larx, can you teach me to cook?"

"NO!"

Slam.

"It was worth a shot!" Demyx skipped off happily.


After receiving a slap to the back of the head and a glare from Saïx, Demyx was lost as to who to ask next. Xaldin was busy, Larxene didn't like him, Saïx didn't like him, Zexion didn't like him. Wow, Demyx took a moment to congratulate himself on his incredible feat of making almost everyone in the organization hate his guts.

"Well, practice makes perfect right?" Demyx said cheerily to no one in particular (which was good because there wasn't anyone else in the room, and if he had been talking to someone in particular, he'd be crazy). And so that was the moment Demyx decided to become a self-taught chef.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long. After about an hour of mixing random ingredients into a bowl and shoving into the oven for an undetermined amount of time ("I'll just take it out when it looks ready!") without pouring the batter into a baking tin, Demyx decided that proper training was probably needed to make something that actually tasted decent. On the up side though, his dish did look pretty nice after he'd covered it in whipped frosting and rainbow sprinkles. It didn't smell all that great though…

Thankfully, Axel didn't pay attention to how it smelled and piled a generous portion into his mouth without a thought as to who had baked it. Demyx, predicting the outcome, promptly ran off to the most secluded, Axel-proof place he could think of: Larxene's room. Because running to hide in the private area of someone who hates you is always a good idea.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNO-

"Oh for the love of-" Larxene opened the door. She suddenly became very, very quiet. Demyx smiled nervously, eyes darting around and searching Larxene's face for signs of anger.

Demyx could hear Axel a little ways away, screaming bloody murder. And he could sense that the bloody murder would become a reality if he stayed at Larxene's door for much longer. Which was the worst? A singed mullet and a lecture from Xemnas about how much those custom made coats cost? Or the possibility of a lost limb?

Well, does a one-legged duck swim in circles?

So Demyx fled into Larxene's room just as Axel burst into the hallway in a fiery rage.

"DEMYX!" Axel's furious voice resonated throughout the hallway. "You'll be sorry you ever set foot inside this castle!"

Larxene was still staring at him, eyes unfeeling and cold as always.

"Thanks Larx, you're my savior! Ax would've killed me!" Larxene suddenly broke into an evil smirk.

"He would've, wouldn't he?" she mused. Demyx nodded, oblivious to the obvious scheme the blonde she-demon was currently in the process of plotting. Said she-demon only smirked wider. Suddenly, she put on an expression of mock horror, gasping at the now closed and locked door.

"Oh no, I've left my favorite pair of boots outside the door!" Demyx frowned, confused. He didn't remember seeing a pair of boots outside the door… Larxene seemed so sincere though! She couldn't be lying!

"Please, oh please, would you save them from turning to ashes?" Larxene blinked sweetly, pseudo tears brimming her blue eyes. Demyx saluted loyally.

"Of course ma'am! I'd be honored to fetch your beloved boots to keep them from a flame-filled demise." Demyx hastily scrambled out the door after messing nosily with the lock, and whipped his head from side to side, finding nothing on the blank white floor but his own, very faint reflection (Marluxia liked the castle kept clean, and it was, thanks to the dusks).

Suddenly, the sharp sound of a slamming door and the clicking of a lock confirmed Demyx's fears. He'd been tricked!

"Ah man! Xemnas' speeches are so boring though!" Demyx whined as Axel caught sight of him.


"…and that's why you need to be more careful with your coat. It's custom made you know! You can't go around dilly-dallying through wildfires and such! Remember that. And also, number IX." Demyx was fast asleep in the leather armchair opposite to a very much irritated Xemnas.

"IX!"

Nothing.

"Alright then. To make sure you know that what you did was risky and stupid, you'll take all of Larxene's missions for a week."

"WHAT!?" Demyx was wide awake at the mention of the accursed "work" that was the bane of his existence.

"Good. I got your attention. Now I'm going to repeat everything I just said about the organization's attire and you're going to listen or else you'll be taking Axel's missions for the next week as well." Demyx sunk deeper into the chair, wallowing in misery and self-pity.

Why did everyone keep on insisting that he do work!?