A/N: I was in a mad dash with this one, so I'd first like to apologize in advance for the mistakes I'll more-than-likely make :'D -stabbed- It seems I make the most mistakes in this fic xD Do forgive me, this story doesn't have a beta, and since there are only about two chapters left, I don't see a reason to.

I felt excited to write this chapter. I've wanted it for a long time. Confrontation! Emotions! Conflict! This is what I feed on. And so I continue to put Zexy through hell. It's likely that i he were real, I'd be dead now :'D

Please enjoy -bows-

Fact: The Heart Can Break

At first, the tiny rocks that kept stabbing his feet bothered Zexion and he stopped at the edge of the parking lot, thinking about how dumb he was to have left his boots back at the party. Then his next thought was why he should care, and so he carried on through the grit and sharpness, his breath leaving him heavily.

He needed to find out how to get home. True, he was feeling distraught right now, but that didn't mean he was completely reckless. His tears were cold now, and his lips were beginning to feel chapped. Looking beside the parking lot, he saw a small building that housed bathrooms, and attached to the walls were a few pay phones. If Demyx cared enough to look for him – because he was certain the blond had seen him run out – the restroom would be the first place he'd search. Not to mention Zexion didn't even have change on him.

So he started walking. A good quarter mile from the ballroom was a general store that he took refuge in. By that time, his cheeks were flushed and his feet ached. His head was already beginning to hurt, but he tried to appear as composed as possible when he went up to the counter and asked to use a phone. People gave him long stares as he passed by – apparently not everyone was used to the costumes people wore on Halloween. Or maybe Zexion looked more horrible than he thought.

Uncle Auron picked up on the third ring. Zexion couldn't believe how relieved he was to hear a familiar voice. It seemed like he had been away from the world for years. He closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the counter as he murmured to his relative where he was.

"Well, I'll go over and pick you up," said Auron, but there was concern in his voice. "Did something happen? I would think you'd still be with that boy."

"That boy" was the absolute last person Zexion needed referring to. He covered his face with his free hand, turning away from the curious employee at the counter. "He's not with me. I left. Please, just…" He took a deep breath, tasting something sour on his tongue. "I would like to go home now."

When he hung up, he murmured a quick thanks and went outside to wait. He considered walking aimlessly up and down the aisles, but one, he was tired – and two, he was a person who stilled when upset. Demyx might be the type to move around a lot when something was wrong though. He seemed that way. Then again, Demyx seemed to be a lot of things before Zexion spent time with him, before this night.

Zexion pressed his back against the display window, feeling so tired. By the time Auron came and parked in front of him in the parking lot, he opened the back doors and laid his short body over the seats, closing the door with his bootless foot. Immediately, he was grateful for the warmth inside the car, but still he curled himself up slightly and leaned his cheek against his shoulder.

He felt the car move, and he heard Auron say, "What happened?"

Honestly, Zexion didn't know whether to answer and spill everything or just remain silent. In the end, he settled for murmuring, "An unexpected conflict occurred in my story."

Auron's tone was neither pushy nor indifferent. "Oh?"

Zexion nodded, completely forgetting his uncle couldn't see him. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, shards of glass breaking and breaking in his blood stream. He knew if he just didn't think about it, if he tried to compose himself, it would all be better. He knew this, but continued to focus on the pain clawing inside him.

"Yes, a character got killed off."

Sunday was spent with the covers thrown over himself, his hair fanned over his face and on his pillow. Certain parts of his body felt too hot – his mouth and throat, in between his thighs and his head. Other parts felt too damn cold – his hands, his feet, and his arms were prickled with gooseflesh. Since he was good at keeping down his stress levels, this fever was an unexpected way for him to wake up that morning. He was still in most of his costume, and he felt sticky and uncomfortable, no matter what position he rolled into. Finally, he decided to give up and shed off the rest of his clothes while still lying down, leaving himself in only his boxers.

For a long time, there was just silence in his room. The silence made him think of music, reminding him of the CD Demyx had given him. What would he do with it now?

His father came up only once but left him alone when Zexion pretended to be asleep. Twice Auron entered, not fooled for a second about Zexion's behavior. He knew something happened last night, but he didn't seem to know what to ask. No one was used to the slate-haired teen like this. He wasn't used to himself like this. After feeling the teen's forehead, his uncle left and came back with a bottle of pills and a glass of water. Only when he was alone again did Zexion get up to gulp the medicine down.

Multiple times he heard the phone ring downstairs. It wasn't until his father came up again did he register who it might be, and he pulled his blankets closer to himself, stomach flipping.

"Zexion?" said his father, opening the door. "There's a young man who keeps calling over here, and he's asking for you."

Zexion's breathing slowed, audible with his parted lips. When he realized he wasn't going to be left alone unless he answered, he murmured, "I don't have time for conversations. I need to…to study. Tell him that."

"Fine," his father sighed in exasperation. His door closed and Zexion heard the shuffles of footsteps going down the stairs.

By the time afternoon came around, the slate-haired teen realized that even with all the hours he had to himself, he hadn't focused on anything that happened last night. Indeed the sounds of a guitar being strummed and the ghost of that voice were lingering in the back of his mind, but he didn't dwell on it. He shivered underneath his blankets, wondering how long he could cocoon himself here. He didn't eat save for a few crackers he took from the pantry, and he looked over his homework just once before dropping it to the floor. Studying was the only thing that would best occupy him, yet it seemed depressingly pointless. The thought in itself made him even more depressed.

Then he allowed himself to bury his hot-and-cold body into his bed again, where he severely furrowed his brow trying not to cry.

What he couldn't avoid was school, no matter how much he wanted to. Missing a single day was out of the question, and so early the next morning, he dragged himself out of his cocoon and went to the bathroom, his blanket stuck on his body until he mustered the energy to shrug it off on his floor.

Sweat was beading all over his skin, and he felt hot, so he thought a cool shower might wake him up better. A dull headache was still buzzing in his skull, but the medicine he took yesterday seemed to have taken away the fever, which Zexion was grateful for. It would be hard enough to focus on the day without having the urge to fall over on his desk and sleep.

After drying himself off, he opened the door to see a weary Fuu on the other side. He blinked in surprise, mostly because he never saw her in these early hours. He figured she must hole herself in her room until the last minute when he was leaving for the bus. Other times of course she wouldn't leave at all and just skip school.

Instead of saying anything, he was as silent to his sibling as he always was, nodding once in a vague greeting before heading back to his room. When he turned back once, he saw she was looking at him. Zexion quickly turned back around and closed himself in his room, the cool air making him shiver a little.

He slapped a hand over his face. "Come on, you can't afford to be weary now," he told himself. He picked out his uniform from his closet and began to dress. That's when he noticed the objects on his desk.

The bottle of pills was still there where Auron had put it, but the glass of water wasn't empty as Zexion left it. It was filled about three-fourths of the way, and when Zexion touched it, he felt how refreshingly cold it was, as if the liquid had just been poured in.

Zexion stared at it in mild confusion. "Who was in my room?"

Maybe it was just him, but his tie suddenly felt like a noose with how tight it felt around his neck. Before first period started, he made a resolution to stare down only at his assignment, and the teacher when she was speaking. He wasn't allowed to look anywhere else, he wasn't allowed to acknowledge anyone who tried to get his attention, save the teacher (though anyone trying to talk to him never happened anyway, Zexion felt secure in setting down these rules for himself). When the bell rang, he would, as quickly as possible, gather his things and leave – it would even be advisable to have his belongings collected before the bell even rang.

Having these rules in mind, Zexion stepped into the classroom was too relieved to see a certain vacant seat behind him. Now for the unsettling five minutes before the class actually began.

More students shuffled in, and everytime Zexion heard the door open behind him, he'd suck in a breath, simultaneously flipping furiously through his binder and listening out for someone to sit behind him. Each time he mentally scolded himself for forgetting his rules so easily.

His unsettlement came to a point when he felt a hand slide down his scarred arm. He commended himself for not even jumping or flinching at the contact, and he believed further plaudits should be awarded to him for not reacting when Demyx Watera spoke his name.

The hand on his arm shook him, and Zexion listened hard to that morning's announcements.

"Zexy? What happened Saturday, man?" asked Demyx.

The only answer given was the principal reviewing what was for lunch that day. The swimmer shifted so that he was in front of Zexion's desk, and the teen could see his untucked white shirt. Demyx bent down, and Zexion's blood pressure spiked at the sight of the tan neck and the lips that sang his secrets that night.

Those lips were turned down, slightly parted as the blond tried to think of what to say. "Hey, are you ignoring me?" He paused, that mouth twisted in distress, his bottom jaw worrying his upper lip, making it a darker pink. Finally, his voice low, he said, "Is it…about what I did? Are you mad because I sang your poem?"

For it to be out there in the open so suddenly made the whole event seem so trivial. And it made Zexion angry. His words were more than something trivial, more than something to scoff at, more than something that a random person could come along and reveal to even more random people.

He turned to look at the chalkboard. "How did you get it?" he asked in a barely audible voice.

Demyx considered, but finally he sighed and relented. "It was that day I went over to your house and found your notebooks. When you left to go to the bathroom, I saw that poem and it… I liked it. So I…I took it."

Zexion didn't even need reminding of that day, it stood out so clearly in his mind. "You stole from me," he accused, voice stronger.

His mouth opened and closed several times before answering truthfully, "Yes, I did. I can't say I didn't mean to. I just… It was a side of you I never saw. I knew it was inside you, and I was trying so hard to get it out of you. Zexion, your words… Your feelings are beautiful."

Heat flushed the slate-haired teen's face, and he subtly pushed his bangs over more of his face. "Please discontinue any further conversation with me," he said firmly.

He shouldn't had said anything in the first place, because now Demyx wasn't going to back down. "Zexy, listen to me," Demyx said, still speaking softly so that only Zexion could hear, "what I did wasn't meant to be something mean, I swear. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Might as well," retorted Zexion in a deadly voice, "so you can go on and sing those out to the world as well."

A twinge of hurt made Demyx's lips tighten briefly. It was then that the slate-haired teen realized that even if Demyx apologized, he wouldn't forgive him. He didn't want to. It wasn't about whether or not he could forgive, it was that he wouldn't. He refused to. In fact, he wanted nothing more to do with the classmate known as Demyx Watera. More than hurt, more than pain – for Zexion believed he exhausted those that night and weekend – what was burning in his chest now…was pure anger and contempt.

And now he was wondering what he could do to hurt Demyx. The odd thing was, he already knew how to do it.

The announcements had ended. They had talked straight through the pledge, and now everyone around them was pulling out homework from the weekend. Luckily, their teacher was off speaking with another member of the staff. Zexion knew he had minutes to start cutting Demyx away from him.

"Do you consider me your companion still, Demyx Watera?" Zexion inquired, his voice devoid of any particular emotion. Saying the blond's name didn't make his chest ache as much as he thought it would, but this relief quickly turned into confident resolve. He was steeling himself.

Surprise must have crossed Demyx's expression, but he wasn't silent for even half a second before he readily exclaimed, "Yes, of course! You're one of my best friends, Zexy!" He moved, setting his hands on the teen's desk. "I always want to be your friend. And I'm so, so sorry for what I did. I'll-"

"Actually, no," interrupted Zexion coolly. "You can take that apology and keep it to yourself. I don't want to hear it. As a matter of fact, I never want to hear your voice again, because I haven't ever valued your existence and I'm tired of putting up with it."

Zexion Anderson did not interact with people often. To be clear, it was that he never preferred the company of others. He did not stimulate others and in return no one ever emotionally stimulated him. It was this thought process that led him to the philosophy that if he did not bond with anyone, then he could not be hurt. It only followed that breaking off the bond he had been building with Demyx Watera should not hurt him.

Looking into those large eyes of aqua though, Zexion witnessed the anguish that suddenly dulled their color, a sight that Zexion felt echoing in his chest painfully.

It must've been a handful of minutes that they stayed looking at each other. Zexion only forced himself to finally tear his gaze away because he knew Demyx was searching inside of him for the lie in those words. As soon as he did though, Demyx was grabbing his arm.

"That's not true, Zexion," the blond said. There was no time to dwell on the fact Demyx didn't use the nickname he'd given to the slate-haired teen. "I know you must be pissed off, so you're just saying things. Things to piss me off. You're trying to hurt me…and dammit, it's working but you can't mean that."

"What's wrong, am I being a dick?" scoffed Zexion, breaking his arm free. "Go sit down, class is starting."

"No, not until you talk to me!" insisted Demyx in a voice that was louder than he intended. Others glanced over to them, but Zexion wasn't going to give them a good sight. With surprisingly easy effort, he returned to searching his binder for his homework.

It shouldn't feel this easy. Why is it so easy to destroy him and myself?

Finally, the message seemed to sink in. Demyx got up and went to his seat behind the slate-haired teen. Zexion felt the breeze the blond left as he walked past, the scent of citrus and chlorine left in his wake.

As his rules dictated, when the bell rang, he was the first out the door. He expected that Demyx would follow him and demand more explanations for what happened in class – he was actually trying to think up excuses he could give when he turned the corner and realized he wasn't being followed at all. Zexion didn't stop weaving through the crowds of jittering teenagers, but he did slow his pace a little.

How absurd my behavior is. Demyx is perfectly capable of catching up with me even if I were running. Why am I slowing down, thinking he'll come after me? The thought of encountering the blond was both uncomfortable and yet desirable, so to stomp down any lingering sentiments he may have, Zexion changed his course.

Miss Lockhart's eyes brightened the moment he walked into the office. "Zexion Anderson!" she said in a somewhat chastising tone as she crossed her arms. "You haven't dropped by in forever it seems! Come in, come in. Take a seat and relax."

"This isn't a pleasure visit," Zexion hastened to inform her.

Miss Lockhart pouted in disappointment and laid back on her chair, arms still crossed over her ample chest. "Then what can I do for you this fine day?" she sighed in disinterest. "If you're going to ask me about your status with Never Was University, I already told you that-"

"No, it's not that. I'm actually here to discuss the tutoring with Demyx Watera." Before she could get too excited, he deadpanned, "I want to terminate my participation in it."

The shocked look she gave him was expected. She sat up, leaning towards him. "Wait, you want to what?"

"I want to bring this little project to an end," he clarified with a nod, as if convincing himself as much as he was her. And it was working.

Miss Lockhart was shuffling papers around, busying herself like it'd make Zexion's decision go away. Finally, she stopped her fidgeting and asked, "But what about Demyx? He's making such progress with his grades. His coach is pleased with the both of you, and so am I."

"There's only a little under two months left in the semester," Zexion pointed out, taking a seat across from Miss Lockhart. "And he's not as completely hopeless as I once thought. He'll learn to fend for himself."

"This is grades, not survival, Zexion," Miss Lockhart said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Look, are you sure about this? Have you talked it over with Demyx?"

Zexion considered lying, but thought better of it. "Actually, could you notify him for me?" he asked, the idea just occurring to him. When she stared only blankly at him, he sighed. "You can notify him, right? He knows about my displeasure towards him now so this will-"

"Wait, are you mad at each other? Did something happen?" Miss Lockhart's brown eyes softened, taking on a more concerned tone. "I am a counselor, you know. I can help you two work whatever it is out."

Quickly, Zexion's forgotten defenses rose to attention, good as new. "No, that won't be necessary," he insisted while shaking his head fervently.

"Well, I'm just trying to get a grasp at the situation," Miss Lockhart said, tossing herself back to laying on her chair. "I mean, you two were getting along so well before. It wasn't just the grades with you two."

"What do you mean?"

A soft smile graced Miss Lockhart's features. "I mean you, Zexion. Do you remember the kind of person you were like in the beginning of the year? It's only been a few months, but already I saw some differences in you. And I think your time with Demyx helped with that. The both of you were good for each other."

"Everyone has a story, Zexion, and it's about time you let yours unfold. Starting with this Demyx. I think he could help you."

Why did everyone seem to think that? All the adults, anyway. Zexion used to take adults as the sane ones with actual opinions, but now he was starting to doubt this. Demyx wasn't good for him. What happened on Halloween should prove that. It was ample evidence. Yet Uncle Auron and Miss Lockhart – even Roxanne – went on about how he was changing. How he already changed.

Scary, Zexion suddenly thought, a mirrored feeling of the word making his stomach feel tight. I don't want to change. I thought I did, but I don't want to anymore. It's scary. It's scary…Mother.

Without mentioning the subject again, Zexion got up and, hugging his binder close to himself, walked out of the office. He heard Miss Lockhart tell him something about reconsidering, but he closed the door off on her words. Leaning against the wall right next to the door with a frown was Demyx.

Too many overwhelming things at once.

It took awhile, but finally, Zexion managed to say, "So you did follow me."

"What was that you were talking about in there?" Demyx deadpanned, eyes full of hurt and frustration. "What do you mean, you want to quit tutoring me?"

"Oh good, you know what happened. You'll save both Miss Lockhart and I the trouble of informing you," said Zexion. He readjusted his grip on his binder and began walking down the empty hallway. Second period must have started by now. "Well, that's the way things are now."

"Hold on there!" exclaimed Demyx, jogging to walk alongside the slate-haired teen. "Look, I get that you're the running away type, but-"

Zexion whirled to look at the blond incredulously. "The running away type?" he spat.

There was sympathy in Demyx's expression, but his words were strong and didn't match his expression. "That's right. Sorry for being so blunt but I doubt you'll listen to me if I'm not. You're the kind of person that needs to be told straight or you'll never even pay any attention," he stated boldly.

"Is that your conclusion?" Zexion said in disbelief, his voice rising.

"Yes, so just hold your horses for a bit!" said Demyx, grabbing the teen's shoulders and forcing him to stop and turn to the swimmer. "I can't change what I did, alright? What I did on Halloween…I knew you wouldn't like it, but I didn't know you'd run off like that. I was worried about you, Zexy!"

Zexion set his lips in a thin line. "You don't need to concern yourself with me any longer. I told you earlier how you aren't anything to me-"

"You're everything to me!" exclaimed Demyx, eyes wide as he gripped Zexion's shoulders tighter.

His body jolted, his hidden eyes searching into Demyx's oceanic ones, so full of emotion that Zexion was scared to peer into them for too long. He wriggled out of Demyx's grasp easily, backing away a few steps. "You say…such ridiculous things," he finally settled on muttering. He brought his binder closer to his chest as if it were a shield between him and the swimmer. "Take some of my advice here – just because you bluntly state your feelings doesn't mean you'll be understood. In fact, you might even be misunderstood completely. So outbursts like that…" He turned away. "…keep them to yourself."

He hadn't gone five steps without hearing an incredulous chuckle behind him. He stopped walking for just a moment to see Demyx smiling sardonically, his eyes glistening. The sight startled Zexion but at the same time sort of stimulated him.

"Look at this mess," stated the blond, running a hand through his styled hair. The ending strands clung to his fingers invitingly and shone in the sunlight spilling from the window beside them, making Zexion stare. "Here I am, making everything plain as day, and still you…" Demyx sniffed, but he was still smiling. "You're an idiot."

The accusation spurred Zexion back to reality, and he frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You refuse to change. You refuse everything that can attach itself to you," said Demyx simply, spreading his arms. Then he gestured at the slate-haired teen loosely. "You think you're like what you love so much – a fact. Facts don't change, right?"

Zexion didn't say anything. He was too stunned to do so. His feet were rooted to the spot and he felt his binder slip a little down his chest as he slowly absorbed Demyx's words. A fact? Was that what he thought he was? Was that what he wanted to be? There was no way Demyx of all people could come up with a conclusion like that.

Sensing he had left Zexion speechless, Demyx closed the space between them again. "I've got advice for you too, Zexy," he spoke in a sympathetic voice. "You're a human being. And whether or not you know this, human beings have a habit of changing. It happens constantly, without you even knowing it. You aren't a fact. You aren't unchanging. I know this because I've hung out with you these past couple of months."

"I'm not changing."

At first, it looked as if Demyx would retort with something brutal, but then the firmness melted away from his countenance, leaving the kinder expression Zexion was used to. His eyes were locked on something a little below Zexion's gaze. He reached out, bringing his wonderful scent with him as his warm fingers brushed against Zexion's cheek. When he pulled away, his finger was glistening slightly.

It didn't need to be said out loud. The way Demyx's gaze flickered from Zexion to the drying tear on his skin confirmed everything. And all Zexion wanted to do was turn back time, to a past when he didn't know Demyx, when he didn't know his scent, when he hadn't heard him laugh, when he hadn't fallen in love with him.

Demyx was looking at him seriously, his hand still hovering between them. His eyes were a deep well, full of kindness and affection, of silent intent.

"You're everything to me!"

Laughter and sneakers skidding on the floor echoed in the hallway, breaking the silence. Zexion's stare shifted to where Fuu was walking out the door with Seifer and Rai. There was a bag of a grassy-looking substance inside.

With a deep breath, Zexion tore himself away from Demyx and walked down the hallway and out the door. The blond didn't follow him this time. This time, he's really going to leave me alone, he thought as he locked his eyes on his sister and her friends huddling themselves against the bushes outside the school. Well, that's fine. It only fits, doesn't it? I can't afford this holding back anymore. He was dragging me down to everyone's level. The level I've been avoiding for years now.

I won't be held down by who I used to be.

Zexion made it over to the three teenagers just as Rai pulled out a lighter from his pocket. "Never touched the stuff before, y'know?" he said with a small grin.

Seifer opened the bag, a smile also on his face. "Well, there's a first time for everything. If any AP comes, just ditch the shit in the bushes, alright?" He stopped short when he saw Zexion approaching, then something like a scowl crossed his face. "What're you looking at, bookworm?"

Ignoring the comment, Zexion tilted his head slightly, arching a brow as he zeroed in on his sibling. "Do you think this is the wisest activity to participate in, given the trouble you've gotten yourself into already?" he inquired bluntly. He knew he was treading into unfamiliar territory right now, and he also knew pursuing this any further could get the shit beaten out of him. True, he never confronted Fuu when she was with her gang, but that was because he was observant enough to witness what happened to others.

But he was feeling confident today.

Fuu's one visible red eye blinked, processing what Zexion had just said. Then she looked over at her friends, all three bursting out in laughter. "What?" she choked out through her smile.

Not as daunted as he should be, Zexion counted off on his fingers as he continued to speak."You're going to get caught, which will cause more trouble for yourself and for father. Has it not registered yet that you're going to court for nearly beating someone to death? For sending someone to the hospital for medical care?"

Even though Seifer and Rai were laughing again, the humor was suddenly gone from Fuu's expression. A dark look crossed her features, making her look fragile and completely deadly at the same time. "Indifference," she finally settled on saying.

"Of course you are," sighed Zexion, shrugging. "That's all you ever are. Just go ahead and keep this up. It seems like all you know how to do is make trouble anyway."

Demyx was wrong. People didn't change. In a way, everyone was a fact. "Is it not a fact," he said out loud, and the three teenagers all shut up to look at him, "that you cannot change? Is it not a fact that what you're going to do for the rest of your life is harm people?"

Fuu's face was turning as red as her eyes, and Seifer and Rai's temper didn't seem far behind. Even so, Fuujin Anderson's intense expression of hate was more drawing than theirs. For a second, Zexion almost faltered, but instead he let his sibling's contempt feed his own stirring emotions. Demyx's words were now becoming a ghost in the back of his mind, like they never existed.

Zexion turned, heading back inside. "Unless you want to be here by the time an assistant principal will, I suggest you all move out. I'm not above informing a teacher about this." His fingers had just brushed the door handle when he was stopped by a voice ringing out in the mid-morning air.

"What do you care!" Fuu was advancing on him before he knew it, her arm extending to shove him into the glass of the door. Zexion's eyes widened – not only was Fuu's voice breaking, but she had spoken more than two words in a single statement. Her visible eye was wildly wide, her teeth gritting in between her lips. "What do you care what the hell I do! You stopped caring! All you care about is school and locking yourself up in your room! You only do that, and you never talk to people, and yet-! And yet Dad still only pays attention to you!"

Zexion stopped breathing. Fuu's fist that gripped the front of his shirt was heavy on his chest. He couldn't look anywhere else except for her face, showing over three years' worth of emotion – emotion neither of them allowed the world to see.

Seifer and Rai were standing a few feet behind her, the weed all but forgotten. For a second, Zexion thought that they might cheer Fuu on, but he heard only silence. They must be as stunned as him at Fuu's outburst, enough that they couldn't even jeer or support her.

"Only you get paid attention to, even though you're the one who want to be invisible the most!" screamed Fuu, wetness falling down her scarlet cheeks. "Only you! Dad wants nothing to do with me! All he can talk about is you! I'm the failure! I'm the delinquent! Now I'm going to goddamn fucking court and you can't even worry about me! I'm…I'm… I'm your sister, goddammit!"

The door handle jabbed Zexion in the back as Fuu tossed him away in disgust and turned heel to run down the sidewalk leading to the school. Seifer and Rai were numbly watching, their eyes wide. Zexion had to admit, he couldn't do much else either. What was one supposed to do in this type of situation? What did someone who was used to feelings do?

I don't… He was so confused. Fuu felt like that? Had she always felt like that?

He reacted before he knew it. The image of her retreating back with her fists pressed against her sides got larger as he ran towards her. His arms were flying freely – had he forgotten his binder? He called out her name – once, twice a little louder, his voice slightly more desperate. He frowned when she sped up her pace. He opened his mouth to say her name again just when he saw that she was crossing the street…

…and that a car was approaching her.

Zexion almost tripped as he picked up his pace. His lungs were already growing tired – dammit, why did he spend all his time inside?

A horn blared as Fuu stalked straight ahead, not even checking to see if cars were approaching. At the sound of the horn, she turned, her body visibly freezing on the spot. Zexion extended his arms to move her out of the way. He only had time to briefly curse himself when his shoes hit the street.

The thud of his small body was surprisingly loud. And the sensation of his flesh tearing apart in immediate pain was greater than the touch he felt when he shoved his little sister out of the way of the car. Focusing was impossible once his head burst from the impact. Before he blacked out, maybe even before he shoved Fuu away, he thought for the briefest instant, I could die right now.

And that was fact.

Ending A/N: I think I made Zexion experience too many emotions in one day -bites lip- My logic is that since he's undergoing such a change, the conflicting roller-coaster of emotions is appropriate. This is new for me, too. I'm used to writing concrete feelings that a character experiences. So this was interesting to try to write.

Next chapter will be very short, so expect it out soon. I thank all of you for your continued support. I'll try my best as always to give you good updates -determined-

I wonder f Demyx was redeemed in this chapter...or if I just made more people hate him... ;w; I'm sorry, Demy OTL

Review/critique/comment/question? Sorry again for mistakes! D: