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

***This chapter is NSFW***

XXVIII.

Decided

"…So, yeah," Demyx finished lamely. He smoothed his sheets and looked away from Yuffie, towards the window. "That's what's been going on."

Yuffie's eyes were wide. She pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If I'd known, I never would have—"

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Are you still going to go?"

"I don't know," he said. "Every time I think I have an answer I lay awake all night, going back and forth… Ten says that this might not result in anything, that I might just be senselessly killing myself. I don't want to die. But I want to do the right thing. This just makes me so much more conscious of the fact that he did this to me." He mouthed the word "Xehanort." "And I just get angrier and angrier because shouldn't I do something, if I can?" He took a deep breath. "They told me to take a few weeks and think it over."

When she didn't say anything, he kept talking.

"Ever since we've… been together, I've been happy," he said. "I was myself again, like I might really survive this. But I feel like… hearing all this, now the bad parts of me are back, too. And I'm sorry, because now I'm making you deal with all this. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

She took his hands. He waited to hear it, the cutting words, the final blow. He couldn't bear it. "I know you'd want me to go. I'm such a fucking coward. I always was. I can't take care of anyone. I can't even save myself. The thought of him hurting anyone else like this, it… makes me sick."

She touched his face. "I can't make this decision for you."

"I never asked you to."

"I protect those I love," she said. "Even if it means ending everything."

His heart dropped. "I know. But I've never loved anyone before now," he said. "I don't know how I'm supposed to protect you. There has to be something else, something better I can do—"

She kissed him suddenly and he wasn't quite sure if he should respond. His hand slid down her back and she shifted, tucking her legs around his waist. The want was sharp as a knife, sticking between his ribs and lower still. He ran his hands along her arms. Her lips were so soft against his throat. He felt weak and his hands shook as he slipped off his shirt. She worked off her vest and he untied her headband, kissing the spot on her forehead where it used to be.

She straddled him and he lay back near the footboard, painfully aware of how small the bed was in comparison to hers. Her thighs pressed tightly against him. She slipped off her shirt and bra and immediately went to unclasp his jeans. The suddenness of this was new to him, and exhilarating. Even so he wondered if he should ask anyway. She went to take off her own shorts but he stopped to do it for her.

They touched each other, first through the underwear, then without. His feelings were all over the place, physically and emotionally. He'd never really touched her there, and it was bizarre but incredible. She tightened her grip in his hair and wordlessly adjusted the placement of his hand.

Despite the previous urgency for a while they only kissed and touched each other, long enough for the rest of him to catch up. How much longer would they have to be together? A few weeks? Maybe a little more? Why was it he could only really appreciate this now that it was almost over?

"I can feel you thinking," she said against his throat. "Stop. It's all right."

They started making love. He tried to do what she said, letting himself feel instead of drowning in the same old misery. Their breath, their bodies against one another. For seconds or maybe minutes he would be fine, but then the thoughts would poke him like thorns. He focused on her instead, on making her feel good, feeling for when she tensed or when her breath caught and trying to remember what got which reaction.

She came not long after. He felt it through his body and kissed her but couldn't help letting go as well. For about as long as the it lasted he was certain that everything would be fine, but once the endorphins started fading and he went soft the thoughts when back to madness.

She sat up gingerly, her face flushed. "You were holding out on me," she said.

He tried to smile, but he got up too when he saw something out the window. "It's raining," he said, half in amazement, half in shock. Thin, brittle droplets broke through the haze that covered the sky. The breeze coming through the gap in the curtains was cooler than usual.

"I can't believe it," she said. "Did you do this?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I mean, if it started raining every time I came, then I should probably start masturbating as a public service. Would've solved your drought problem a long time ago."

For a second this made her laugh, but then her smile slowly faded. She picked up her underwear and put it back on.

"You could stay," he suggested lightly.

She hesitated. "I need time," she said. "Not a lot. I want a few hours to think."

"Sure," he said, dazedly. He scooped up his own underwear. Suddenly being naked had lost its appeal.

"I mean, who knows. Do that to me again and you might have a harder time getting rid of me." She was nearly dressed now. She went over to the water basin by the door and washed her hands. The stiffness of her movements told him the gravitas was an act. She kissed him once, softly, and then left. The slam of the door reverberated throughout the whole room.

For a while he sat there in his underwear, feeling the stickiness of his own sweat and listening to the sound of the rain. It was starting to get heavier, and louder, and it drew up the smell of dust. He dressed quickly and washed his hands. Then he went to the roof.

The water pattered loudly here. He turned his face upwards toward the sky, letting his pores drink in the rain and feeling it soak into his being. He spread his arms. It was rapidly becoming a downpour. For just a moment his overwrought mind relaxed and there was peace and stillness. And he made his decision.

Demyx and Yuffie started sleeping together fairly regularly.

It seemed that whenever they had more than a handful of minutes together alone it would happen. Part of him didn't mind all the physical contact, but another part of him knew that if they were having sex they didn't really have to talk. And if they talked, they would just bring up the inevitable.

So he hadn't been able to tell her about his choice. They barely exchanged more than the most casual small talk. If this sort of relationship had started naturally, it probably would have made him happy. Now, not so much. A numbness and a determination bleached out most of the anxiety.

At least the drought had broken. The air was no longer so threateningly dry, and it made his body feel better. He didn't feel so bad about letting the tub fill more than halfway.

As August wore on into September he took to training his powers alone. The first time he went out into the rocky expanse he expected the sitar to fight him, to feel the same pain he'd felt months ago. She landed in his arms like she'd never gone. He tuned the strings, ignoring the discomfort in his long-softened fingers, and set to work.

"Nine?" Ienzo's voice had taken on a soft, undemanding quality whenever he spoke to him.

Demyx looked up from his breakfast and offered a friendly, cordial smile. "How are you, Ienzo?"

"Might I speak to you?"

"Go ahead." He sipped at his coffee, barely looking up from the composition he was working on.

"You've been absent so often lately. The others and I are worried about you."

"Oh, I'm fine," he said smoothly. It didn't even feel like a lie.

"This sudden shift in your mood…"

"It's nothing to worry about," he said.

Ienzo didn't push any farther. "What is it that you're working on?" he asked. "I wasn't aware that you had been writing again. That's wonderful."

"Yes, I started a little while ago," he said. "I figure I might as well. At least while I still can."

Ienzo went still. Demyx pretended not to acknowledge this reaction and drank more coffee. He'd made it weak, and it tasted horrible. "…So you've made up your mind?" Ienzo asked.

Demyx looked up. "What else am I supposed to do?" he asked. "If I'm going to die, I might as well get it over with fast, right?" Ienzo squeezed Demyx's free hand. He pulled away. "I have some stuff I have to take care of."

"We'll talk about this later," Ienzo said. He sounded wounded, but Demyx didn't care.

Yuffie was surprised when he showed up at her door. Thick, dreary clouds covered the sky. Demyx wasn't used to seeing them anymore.

"Hi." She blinked. "Um, what's up?"

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Well, Aerith's here—"

"I mean really talk, not…" He exhaled.

She paled. "Okay."

He held out his hand to her. Yuffie hesitated, then took it. They ended up in the bailey, not speaking for a long time. His heart was starting to race and his mouth went dry. "I wanted to tell you before you found out at the meeting." He touched her face. "I'm going."

Her eyes dropped, found some strange middle distance. "Where will you go?"

She'd misunderstood, and this made it even harder. "On the mission, Yuffie. I'm not… I'm not running away."

She put her hand over his. "Part of me hoped you would," she said.

"How could you stand me if I did? I couldn't live with it. It made me feel like… like something in me was burning," he said. "I can't sleep. It gives me nightmares. I think I have to do this. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all this."

"Don't be," she said. "If it were me… I know."

He took the paper he'd been writing and gave it to her. Her fingers caught on the folds.

"I can't read sheet music," she said.

"It's meant to be played," he said. He brought out the sitar and offered the song to her. The composition was rough and raw; then again, so was she. He wasn't sure how well he articulated what it all meant to him. When he was done, he let the instrument vanish. "I love you." A hot flush flooded his face. "I wanted you to know."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. A tear rolled down her face. This was why he had to go. The pain had to stop. He drew her into his arms. She held onto him so tightly it hurt his ribs. He could feel her trying not to cry even more.

For a long while they stood there like that. He didn't want to let go.

"This fucking sucks," she said to his shoulder.

"Yeah. Tell me about it."

Yuffie straightened. He tried to smile, but it fell flat. "You know how I feel. Fuck, I... do too. Love you."

"Bet you didn't think we would be like this." They turned to face the town. The sun was starting to set. It always seemed to be getting dark these days.

"No, I thought you'd be an easy lay."

He kissed her cheek. "I have to go," he said. "Ienzo wants to see me. But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Go. Do what you have to."

He felt her watching him until he was out of sight.

Ienzo was waiting for him, as were Leon and Even.

Leon's expression was somewhat bittersweet. "Thank you for this," he said to Demyx. "You have no idea what this means to us."

"I sort of do," Demyx said. He tried to keep his tone light, because if he didn't make himself smile he was going to lose it. "I mean, I know how valuable good intelligence is. That's why I always got my ass handed to me by Isa when I wrote shitty reports."

"We have a few things to talk about," Leon said. "We've set a date for your departure. We'd like you to leave in two weeks."

It sent a nervous shimmer through his body. "Okay," he said evenly.

"Before then..."

"Perhaps I'd best explain," Ienzo said. His expression was oddly blank, telling Demyx he must actually be feeling something stronger. "Your body and powers seem to be in reasonably good shape. We'd like to spend the next few weeks…"

Even's face was harsh. "We need to make sure you can handle the strain of interrogation," he said.

As excited as I am for the new KH trailer, I also just want to know my boy's real name... #bringdemyxback2k18