memories
Axel hated going back to Radiant Gardens.
Or, Hollow Bastion as it was now called. The name didn't suit Axel's memories of the place—or, rather, Lea's memory of the place—at all. He remembered a shining place full of water and flowers, swaying trees and sparkling stone and polished bronze.
His hood was up, obscuring his face, but it didn't stop the sweet scent of flowers from swirling around him. Where was it coming from? He didn't see flowers anymore—the place was, to put it bluntly, ramshackle. Now. After Ansem The Wise had destroyed everything that had ever mattered to Axel.
No. Destroyed everything that had ever mattered to Lea.
Ansem had created Axel.
"Hey, wait up!" A little girl wearing a little pink dress ran past Axel laughing as a boy in overalls and no shoes chased after her, panting.
Axel turned to watch them run. They laughed and tripped, panted and yelled. Kids. He was a kid here once. He'd grown up in the town's center, in a little house with his mother and father, before he'd died.
Isa had lived near them, in a house with his aunt and uncle. His parents had both died of flu when Isa had been five years old, leaving him to be raised by his kindly relatives. They'd been friends since before Isa's parents had died, for as long as Axel—dammit, Lea—remembered.
They had always spent time together at Isa's house, where his aunt would make cookies and give them munny for sea-salt ice-cream they'd buy from Uncle Scrooge, who ran the ice cream shop and several other small businesses downtown.
Axel meandered through the small village now—some of the houses half-burned and bent, twisting like broken limbs. Radiant Gardens truly had become hollow.
He found his old house easily. It was one of the broken ones, but he ducked into the crooked door nonetheless. Ah. Everything was how he remembered—the entryway that forked into the kitchen or the living room. The stairs that led to his room, a small bathroom and tidy linens closet, and then his mother's room.
It was empty now, of course. Nothing remained of the life Axel and his mother had once shared. Perhaps, if he were to go to his room, some pictures would remain tacked to the walls. But the stairs were shattered and dangerous, and anyway, everything had changed too much.
Isa was not waiting for him. Siax was. And Siax would be very angry with Axel unless he completed his mission and took out the Heartless plaguing this place.
His old home. Siax's old home.
Axel summoned his chakrams with a flick of his wrists, swallowing the pain. He wanted to burn this house the ground, and with it, the last memories of his life.
Roxas had been born with no memories of his original self, the life he had led when he was whole and different, a name not yet twisted and stamped with an Xthat would carve its way to place where your heart once was.
Ipitiedhim,Axel thought as he stepped out of his old house, eyes zeroing in on the tidy little bronze home that was still standing and, possible, still inhabited by Isa's aunt and uncle. IpitiedRoxas when he first came here. But he's lucky.
I don't want these memories. Not anymore.