Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. This is a non-profit fanwork.

IX.

Sought

"Are there any rooms in the castle full of junk?" Demyx asked Even over dinner.

He looked up from his notes. "May I ask why you want to know?"

"I'm… um… looking for something. I don't know. Maybe an instrument." It wasn't like he could afford to buy one, and even if he could it wasn't like any place around here sold any. Something simple, like a ukulele, or a harmonica… he had to start with the basics if he was going to work his way back up to sitar.

"Well, I highly doubt that you'd find anything like that. It's mostly old books, broken equipment, furniture, and so on. But, if you absolutely must, you can look all you like. It's not too far from the lab."

He went by himself. He wasn't sure at all what he was expecting, but the room was more the size of a small warehouse, piled practically floor to ceiling with stuff. For the first hour he searched with a rabid sort of urgency; but Even was right, none of this stuff meant anything to him.

A prickling desperation crept down his spine and his search became more and more reckless as he pushed deeper into the cramped room. What would he do—what would he do if—?

Blearily, he slipped on some cloth on the ground and fell. On the way down, his elbow caught some glass and metal gizmo and it shattered on the ground next to him, leaving him with a handful of glass. Blood trickled down his palm. Demyx swore and tried to stand without further cutting himself. It was around then that he saw it, out of the corner of his eye—the familiar curve of a leather case.

Red splotches of blood fell to the floor. With his uninjured hand he reached through a gap between a massive cabinet and a rotting highboy for the case. It stuck in the small gap. He pulled harder and felt the glass through his clothes. He pushed the cabinet with his feet and tried to get it to budge just ten fucking centimeters, but with all the stuff next to it took a lot of strength. Finally he was able to squeeze the case though and it hit his chest with a hollow thunk.

Something warm dripped onto his leg; he remembered the stinging in his hand and healed it. Demyx hugged the case tight against his chest and inched away from the broken beaker, back towards the door. Bright tears of relief prickled in his eyes and, trembling with anticipation, he pried open the case just outside of the door.

He should have known. It was a guitar, but it was an absolute mess. The fingerboard was cracked almost in two and half of the tuning pegs were missing. There was not a single string to be found. The wood of the body had an odd texture to it, probably from repeatedly contracting and expanding in a room vulnerable to the elements. It felt like it might fall apart in his hands.

He gathered it gently and went to the library.

He found it hard to believe that there wasn't a single book on instrument repair. He expanded his search instead, looking for books on carving and wood crafting, and found a few things that might be helpful. And then just to be thorough he found a title about types of wood so he would know what the guitar was made of and how to deal with it.

Before he could even begin reading he had to find supplies, or at least stuff he could work with. Even with his fractured memories he was pretty sure he'd never had any type of expertise with this sort of thing. Whenever something had happened to his sitar, he'd just unsummoned it and when it came back, it was fixed. And any of the other little instruments he had, he'd just taken them to another world where there was someone who could fix it. He used to know anything and everything about the craft of sitars, but his knowledge about anything else was a bit more limited. And even the stuff about sitar was still vague and dreamlike, like trying to remember a name of an acquaintance met many years ago.

The next day he wanted to forage in the junk room again, but he had to work. The bitter relief of finding the guitar made him dread it a little less. At least he had something to look forward to, even if today was awful.

Demyx met Yuffie where he and Cid had left off yesterday. She was pale and, while he saw no scars, her skin was pink in places, especially across her neck. The words came out of his mouth before he was aware he was asking. "How are you feeling?"

She didn't glare; her expression was totally indifferent. She shifted the toolbox to her other hand, and by the way she twitched and rolled her shoulders he knew she was sore. "What's it to you?"

"It's called, you know, being a polite human being," he said. He crossed his arms.

"Polite, huh," Yuffie said. "Let's just get to work, mullet boy. I really don't feel like dealing with you today."

"Yeah? Well. The feeling's mutual."

They worked in silence, only speaking when absolutely necessary. Her voice was lower and less shrill, and he guessed that she was still feeling unwell. Demyx wasn't feeling so hot, either. Whatever energy that his new project had brought him had long since gone, and that bone deep exhaustion from yesterday was back with a vengeance. The water fought him harder than usual even though there was no physical resistance and made his arms burn. Was he losing his powers? Was that what this was?

"We should really try to hurry it up. We've got a lot to do," she said.

"This is harder than it looks," he said tersely. His vision started to swim and he let go of the water. "Whoa." He leaned against a wall.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Just… just…" There was something familiar about the burning in his muscles that he couldn't quite place a finger on.

"If you're tired, take an ether."

"It's not that. Shut up and let me think." But he couldn't, not with his head spinning like this. "This is a different water source than the one that goes directly to the town now, right?"

"Yeah. That's the point."

"Where is the source? I know it's underground, but is there a reservoir? Somewhere I can actually see it?" He tried to stand and stumbled.

"Uh, yeah. But why do you need to? You're just wasting time."

"I don't think so. Something's wrong with it." Demyx was able to get on his feet this time.

"Wrong with it? Or wrong with you? Maybe your powers are just crappier than you thought." She crossed her arms.

"I really think we should go. Just—" He was about to say "trust me."

"And what if I don't want to?"

"Then give me the map and I'll go on my own."

She exhaled and gave him a good once over. "Can you?"

He wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to let her know. "I'm fine."

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Let's go so you can stop whining."

His legs were shaky and he struggled to keep up with her. He drank part of a potion he'd had, and that helped for a little while, but then it just got worse. Maybe—ugh—Yuffie was right and it was just him, and he was about to make himself look like a big asshole.

The reservoir was out of the way at the far back of the town, and the path that took them there was in perilous shape. Parts of the ground looked like they had been gouged out and most of the city walls had fallen, leaving behind jagged teeth of rock. More than once they had to climb and he really was losing all strength. Even if something was wrong with the water, he didn't have the energy to fix it.

The fountains and aqueducts immediately before the reservoir were all dry; mineral sand crunched under their feet, and it sparkled dully in the sun. Finally they got there. The purification system was massive and covered in splotches of rust. Several big vats sat corroding in the sunlight. They had once been covered with glass or something similar, but now all of it was broken. Demyx and Yuffie both looked down into the darkness, unable to really see anything, and she huffed in exasperation.

"There," she said. "Happy?"

He could feel something down there, but there was a cloying stickiness to the liquid that he couldn't place. His teeth were numb. He was sure he'd encountered it before… but his head was so foggy that he was having trouble keeping up. The water vapor below had an edge to it, almost like ammonia, but…

"Shit," he hissed.

Yuffie put her hands on her hips. "What's wrong this time?"

"The water… there's…" His words were slurring together. Demyx swallowed and tried to speak more clearly. He tried to let go of the elastic pressure the water had on him, but he couldn't separate it from his consciousness. It kept feeding. "There's…" He gripped the edge of the vat so as to not fall in and pressed a hand to his forehead. The burning in his muscles intensified.

"Spit it out," she said.

"It's…" It was singing through his blood. He had to let go of it. He had to, but by now this feel for water was an instinct and not something he could easily turn off. He had to get away, but his trembling knees gave out from under him, and he blacked out.

For a while he got half-hidden glimpses of consciousness. He was being dragged again across the cobbles—thump thump thump, thump thump thump—and he remembered trying to talk to Yuffie to tell her. "I have… I have to…" he kept slipping in and out. Getting picked up by a black coat with a red kerchief. His blood was ringing with it. They had to know. Someone had to know—

Demyx woke up aching from the inside out. His stomach churned and he crouched over the side of the bed retching. Nothing came up; he would get no relief.

Someone had to know. But what was it they had to know? He pressed a hand to his forehead—he still felt like he was spinning—and tried to remember. He muttered under his breath as if that might help.

Demyx could feel everything.

His power extended beyond his reach like a web. The water in the pipes of the castle buzzed all around and above him. It scratched his skin. Even more irritating was the blood in everyone's veins; mostly water but not quite there, he could sense them. The fluid rushed in Demyx's ears. He was sure this had never happened before—using the full limit of his powers involuntarily—not as a Nobody, not in the Organization. It was an immense strain on his whole being. He tried to pull the web back but to no avail.

Someone came to the door—Demyx sensed them before they entered. The pressure radiated all the way down into his lungs and he couldn't breathe—

"Nine. Nine, are you alright?" Ienzo took a step towards him and the pressure increased. Demyx clutched at the sheets.

"I can't—" He forced the words through his teeth. "It hurts, it's ripping—"

Ienzo took him by the shoulder and forced his chin up. "What's going on? What did you remember?"

Ienzo's proximity made him dry-heave. He heard through muddled ears Ienzo yelling for someone to get Even, but Ienzo was misunderstanding the problem, if only they would let him speak—

Even's green eyes. Two people in the room were more than he could handle. He gasped for air. He saw Even pull out and prep some sort of needle but couldn't fight against the bite of sedation.

It took him a long while to shake the medicine, and when he finally did Demyx was so thirsty he couldn't believe it. His tongue was as dry as sandpaper and his joints ached, but at least he could no longer feel the blood moving in people's veins. He struggled to sit up and tried to clear his throat. There was a glass of stale water at the bedside and he drank it all down. It didn't ease much of the thirst, but at least he could speak. "Is someone… is someone there?"

Even popped his head through the crack in the door. "Nine," he said as he entered. "What on earth happened? We had thought we were going to lose you. It was quite frightening."

Demyx shuddered. "Can I have some more water?"

"Of course." He left and brought back a small pitcher and a cup. "You seem… intact," he said. "What did you remember?"

"I didn't remember anything, it's… the water," Demyx said. He looked at the liquid in the clear pitcher, but his thirst was too painful to resist drinking it. "There's something wrong with the water, and it's…"

Even also studied it. "Like what?"

"Darkness." He said it at last. "I could feel it in my body. The whole south reservoir is poisoned with darkness."

There was a very long silence. Even had gone still and glassy-eyed as he thought it over. "…You're certain," he said.

"I would never forget that feeling." Sitting here now he wanted rip off his skin to ease the crawling sensation.

Even turned. "Ienzo!" he yelled. "Where in the blazes are you?!"

Footsteps down the hall. Ienzo barged into the room; his face was flushed and he was breathless. "Oh… Nine, you're all right. Whatever is the matter?"

"Ienzo," Even said. "It's time we go to the lab."

Demyx saw Ienzo flinch, but he kept his tone neutral. "I was just there myself. What did you need?"

"Boy, you know what I mean."

Ienzo exhaled. "Why must we go there?" He didn't look Even in the eye.

"Because the whole town might very well still be in danger due to our mistakes," Even said. "Nine, you'd better come with us."

Sorry for the delay this week. Hopefully things should be back more on a regular schedule for the next chapter.