Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its subsidiaries. This is a not-for-profit fanwork.

IV.

Gone

Darkness.

It was cold… and damp… no. That wasn't right. Everything was burning, you could hardly see for the flames. He tried anyway, but every time he went to go through them they wove closer. Brightness, insufferable brightness, though his skin was numb.

No. That wasn't right either.

He couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. It kept changing, flickering at a second's notice, leaving him with more viscera than substance. A boat. No, a house, then a path in the woods, then a woman's face. His own voice, foreign and detached as if reading from a piece of paper—

I wasn't born anywhere near the ocean. That was a lie I told myself, the others. For some reason it made things mean more. No. I was born in the dryness of plains, so dry the dust smothered, and my mother—

He was falling again.

Literally falling.

Lea had caught Demyx by the collar. They were both half-dangling out of the open window in the castle in Radiant Garden. His name was Demyx and he was empty and hollow.

Lea's eyes pierced right through him. "Are you all right?"

He couldn't speak. He could feel the dust gathering in his lungs, gluing his tongue to his teeth.

Lea slapped him. "Snap out of it!"

The stinging in his cheek brought him back to reality. "What—"

"You fainted. You almost fell clear out of that window."

Demyx looked down; the ground was at least three hundred meters below. "Thank you," he said, but he was too shaken to mean it. "I think… I think I remembered something…"

"What did you remember?" Lea's eyes weren't just piercing; they seemed to glow. Demyx had trouble processing what a person's face was supposed to look like and he dropped his gaze to Lea's kerchief.

How did he possibly verbalize any of that? The woman standing in the tall dry grass. She was blonde like him, wasn't she? Or brunette? Or redhead. Somewhere in the same family. Her standing there in the grass in her blue dress with the ragged calico apron. The taste of dust. Always. Always. Demyx put his head in his hands. It hurt. He thought his skull might split open.

"I should bring you back to your room," Lea said.

"Who was she?" He spat. "That woman… who…"

"There was no woman, buddy."

"There was. I saw her. She was… she was…" A slick metallic taste filled his mouth.

"Let's get you back to Ienzo. Can you stand?" His face was closed now, guarded, but at least all of his features were where they were supposed to be. Lea slipped his arm around Demyx's waist and hauled him up.

He didn't know how he got back to the room, but he found himself with a mug of something hot in his hands and a blanket around his shoulders. It was raining now, and water pounded heavily against the closed window. The sound soothed him.

"You should drink that." Ienzo was boring holes into him with his gaze. "You'll feel better."

Did he even feel bad to begin with? Still, he sipped. It was sweet with an antiseptic undertone.

"It was stupid of me," Ienzo said. "I should have known that was too much for you in one day. I'm sorry, Nine. I was… distracted. I should have been looking out for your wellbeing."

He kept drinking; Demyx liked the way it burned his throat. He had no idea what it was. Alcohol? A sedative? Straight poison?

"Please say something. I'm worried."

He didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "…The medicine?" His own voice sounded strange.

"A calming draught. You were… very distressed when Lea brought you back."

"Was I?" There was no more of the drink and he clutched the mug. "I feel… light…"

Ienzo touched Demyx's forehead. "You should rest."

He wasn't tired, but the drink was making his body heavy. He lay down, struggling to burrow in the sheets. Ienzo took the blanket from his shoulders and laid it over him. Demyx heard him walk across the room and the light clicked off. Still, he didn't sleep, but watched the rain beat against the window, halfway between consciousness and unconsciousness.

He must have fallen asleep at some point for real, because he woke up suddenly in the middle of the night desperately needing to pee, and stumbled blearily towards the door. Through the crack in the doorway he could see another door open in the hallway, a sliver of gold light on the dark carpet. Demyx heard voices, still half asleep.

"…Very worrisome indeed." Aeleus's voice.

He shuffled, one hand along the wall for support.

"We are well and truly out of our league here. Every time we think we know the extent of the damage, something seems to happen. I worry for the boy. He is unstable, but there is no denying that he could be what we needed all along." Even. Of course.

His bladder complained for waiting around and eavesdropping, but he couldn't stop. They were talking about him. He knew they were.

"And what of how he feels?"

"He'll have to be made to understand. That's all."

He waited for them to clarify what they meant, but he heard the shuffling of papers and more silence. A couple of more minutes passed and nothing was said. He headed off to the bathroom in a daze, trying to make sense of these new cryptic statements.

He'd just had breakfast the next morning when he heard a knock at the door. He figured it was Ienzo or one of the others and huffed. But when he opened the door, a woman was standing there. It was Aerith from the meeting, with a basket. She smiled. "May I come in?"

He obliged, mostly out of surprise. She set her basket down on his dresser. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Aerith." She offered her hand.

He took it. She had a strong handshake. "…Demyx."

"Nice to formally meet you. I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but you left in such a hurry."

He wasn't sure what to say. "I was feeling… pretty overwhelmed."

"But everything is all right?" She frowned.

"I… I guess…" A stranger didn't need to hear his woes.

She reached into her basket. "Well, part of the Restoration Committee's job is seeing that new residents feel comfortable and welcome. This is for you." She held a cloth bundle out to him. It was warm and full of fresh-baked cookies.

"Thank you. So much." After days of eating nothing but the same bland things over and over again the smell made him feel weak. "But why—"

"You're not used to being shown kindness, are you?"

What was he supposed to say to that? He clutched the bundle.

Aerith nodded. "Well, unfortunately I have to go. But if you ever want to drop by and visit, I live in the residential district in the eighth sector. It's towards a corner, under the name Gainsborough. Even if you just need a friend." She picked up the basket. "Have a good day, now."

"You… you too." He watched her go, transfixed. The cloth was soft in his hands, blue and covered with pale yellow flowers. He took out one of the cookies and ate it, again on the verge of tears.

He went down to the library by himself. The only way to get stronger was to try and push his limits, day by day. It was rough going, but worse than that was being unable to walk up stairs without feeling on the brink of collapse. He was looking for Aeleus. He wasn't sure he really wanted to ask him for this favor but he knew he should for his own good.

He found Aeleus puttering in the library, probably trying to hover over Ienzo.

"You're better, I hope?" Aeleus asked. "We were all quite concerned yesterday."

"Yeah… well… a lot happened." And a lot more that hadn't been told. "I was wondering if… maybe you could help me…"

Aeleus didn't ask what it was; he just stared down at him expectantly.

"Well… the truth is… ever since I reformed, you know, I've been pretty, uh, frail?" Aeleus wasn't the type of person to put you out of your misery in conversation. "And I was wondering if maybe you might be able to help me… get stronger? I guess?"

Aeleus said nothing. He barely blinked.

"Obviously you don't have to. It was a… question." He bit the inside of his lip.

"I'll help you," Aeleus said. And nothing else.

"All right. Thanks. That's really generous of you?" He figured at that moment death would be preferable. "So… like… how do we go about this…"

"I'll need to think first," he said. "There's a lot to consider."

"Right. Of course. So I guess I'll. Uh. Go now." Demyx left the library, blood burning in his face, thinking about what the hell he had just gotten himself into.

Thankfully, it wasn't anything new and it didn't involve a whole lot of getting hit. Lexeaus and Xaldin had often double-teamed training the Organization members; Xaldin had been more of the whip-cracker, while Lexeaus knew your limits and genuinely tried to help. They repurposed a larger empty room to the east, and Aeleus found some old weights. The workouts were exhausting, but not unduly so. Demyx found himself liking that he had something to do, at least, for an hour or so a day. Aeleus didn't make him feel uncomfortable; not like the others did. They didn't talk a lot more than necessary. There was something comfortable in this silence, progressive rather than frustrating.

After about two weeks of more or less constant soreness, he was stronger. Demyx could at least walk the length of the castle comfortably. He shouldn't have been proud of something so simple, but he felt better knowing he could escape into town if he had to.

One day, he was resting at the end of the session when Aeleus actually spoke to him first.

"You're different," he said.

He didn't understand. "Different… like…"

"A different person. Determined. But emptier, I feel, as well."

What was that supposed to mean? "Well, I mean, I didn't want to be that weak forever-"

"Have you tried to summon your weapon?" Aeleus was putting back the equipment, rather meticulously, fitting the weights in a small pyramid.

"No. I haven't tried to use any of my powers. I feel like I would get yelled at." It was true. He didn't know why he was procrastinating, but the idea of the heart damage was so terrifying he wasn't sure if using magic would somehow make it worse.

"By whom?" Aeleus turned to him.

"Ienzo. Even. I don't know."

"I think maybe you should. These halls are awfully quiet."

Quiet? The word started to unravel something sinuous inside of his head. What did he mean by quiet?

"Nine?"

Demyx looked up.

"You do remember that much, don't you?" Aeleus's calm, unchanging expression was starting to unnerve him. "What was its name? What did you call the sitar?"

A sharp pain pierced through his head and he put a hand to his temple, as though that would somehow help.

Its name? That wasn't right. She wasn't an it. She was… she was…

Her name gone, quiet, like a whisper. For the first time the silence in the room was suffocating and all he could hear was his own harsh breathing. Where was she? Where was she?

"Nine?" Aeleus repeated. "It was taken from you, wasn't it?"

He tried to stand but slipped and fell onto the hard ground. He felt the scream building in him, burning, and clapped a hand over his mouth instead but the sound escaped through his skin anyway. It wasn't a sound of fear but of an intense, paralyzing grief.

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