-SPOILERS THROUGH KINGDOM HEARTS: 358/2 DAYS-

"But oh, my heart was flawed; I knew my weakness—so hold my hand; consign me not to darkness"-Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

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It wouldn't have seemed unusual: a black-cloaked figure of the Organization, striding through the neon-lit streets of the World That Never Was.

But he knew it was. He knew that this was no ordinary walk because Roxas didn't even look at him as he passed, sandy blonde head high and purposefully aimed straight ahead.

Roxas just kept walking down the street, soon to disappear out of sight. Axel had a bad feeling that if he didn't say something, then that would be how Roxas left: alone and stubborn and misguided, and that they would never again speak.

So he broke the silence.

"Your mind's made up?"

This wasn't the time for quips or jokes. Axel knew that. Roxas knew that. Roxas had to. He had to know what he was getting himself into, walking out like this.

Thankfully, Roxas stopped at his words, even though he didn't turn around to face his best friend and only responded over his shoulder. "Why did the Keyblade choose me?"

The slightest of pauses.

"I have to know."

The words were final, hurtful. Roxas was choosing this over his own existence. This knowledge was worth his death? No way was the younger Nobody thinking clearly—Axel would just have to be the rational one for nearly the first time in both his first life and this one.

"You can't turn on the Organization!" Without meaning to, Axel pushed off the wall and let the words come out harsh. "You get on their bad side, and they'll destroy you!"

But Roxas barely turned his head at all, and replied derisively. "No one would miss me."

Axel would forever wonder what it was that held him in place, silent, stunned, as his friend continued walking away and around the corner—shock perhaps, that Roxas could believe such a thing, or anger, that it had come to this, or guilt, that there was nothing more he could do, or what.

He had no idea what kept him stationary while his best friend left him behind, ignoring sense and Axel's words, what stopped him from replying until it was too late for the intended recipient to hear him.

"That's not true."

There was no one there to hear the words, to see Axel's shoulders droop with the admission and the sadness he shouldn't have been able to feel.

"I would."

"The pull on my flesh was just too strong; stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie"-Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

The neon-lit streets of the World That Never Was looked exactly like they always did, casting colors upon the road in uneven, blurred patterns, the multitudes of windows lit with yellow glows, though no figures stood in their depths. There never were figures among the high-rises, never would be, Roxas supposed, except for those few, black-cloaked ones from the Organization—black-cloaked figures like the one leaning against the building just ahead.

The figure stood right where Roxas couldn't miss him, casual and motionless, head down like he was examining the road under his feet, like he didn't hear the footsteps from Roxas' own shoes, like he wasn't waiting for anyone, though Roxas knew he was.

So Roxas ignored his best friend, eyes gliding straight past him, half of him hoping Axel wouldn't speak, and the other wishing desperately for him to. The heat, the strength from his decision which flowed through him, gripped his bones (where did the need come from, Roxas wondered, the thoughts creating more stone inside of his veins, is this what emotions feel like, and how do I feel them without a heart?), told him that if Axel didn't speak, there was no chance of Roxas ever turning around and returning to the status quo of defeating Heartless and watching the heart-shaped moon grow, supposedly from his efforts.

But he didn't think that he wanted to return, to just let his questions go unanswered, so when Axel broke the silence, Roxas didn't resist as his insides froze, froze with... anger? Was that what anger felt like?

"Your mind's made up?"

No laughter, no joke in Axel's tone now. It wasn't something Roxas was used to, and there was a stab of pain inside of him, like he'd been stabbed, when he thought that if he didn't turn back now, he and Xion and Axel would never laugh together again on top of the clock tower with sea-salt ice cream in their hands.

It was the pain—was that sadness?—that brought him to a stop, though the reminder of the not-emptiness inside his chest and the other things he needed to know made the pain lessen and made more of his veins turn to stone. "Why did the Keyblade choose me?"

If Axel could answer, if Axel would answer, maybe he could give up on this plan. But, truthfully, he didn't want him to, so Roxas pushed away a lifting in his chest—hope, perhaps?—and preempted his answer.

"I have to know."

Roxas felt those words, felt how they hung in the air like physical weights, and their presence solidified his need. He couldn't turn back. He wouldn't.

"You can't turn on the Organization!" Axel's voice was rough, accusatory. It hurt, somehow, but the reproof in his tone was deadened as Roxas' resolve turned from stone to steel. "You get on their bad side, and they'll destroy you!"

The last words didn't even penetrate, Roxas' whole body now full of the hard feeling of determination. What would that mean, anyway? He could live with his questions unanswered or die with the knowledge he needed.

"No one would miss me."

Pushing him into movement again, the statement sunk the truth into Roxas' mind.

Questions, or death.

It wasn't like anything would change without him around. He was just a Nobody. A Nobody with a half-life and no feelings and no answers.

Roxas would change that. He would still be a Nobody, with no life at all, and still no feelings, but with answers.

~fin~

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A/N: I will have you know that the last half was a pure rush of pre-NaNoWriMo jitters, fueled by coffee and a desire to make up for my procrastination on my multi-chapter.

Sooo... sorry? I did not mean to let TDWI lie still for so long. It won't remain so for too much longer. I should have another chapter up in... December sometime? Yeah. December. Hold me to that. Sometime before the new year.

IMPORTANT: If you have any requests, please let me know! I'd be happy to write something small for a prompt, though I know it's not likely you'll want to see more of this stuff.

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If there are ANY mistakes, please let me know! I appreciate the constructive criticism.

But regardless of mistakes, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

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And a sneak preview for the (most-likely) next update; DRABBLE #3: [Sometimes-]Dark:

"Ven isn't happy, surrounded by mostly-dark, partially empty and not whole. He always feels like he's missing something, and he wants it back in the only constant of his existence, wants it with an unceasing, unwavering desire that never burns but only nags at him like a quiet voice.

[I don't know how long I've been here or how long I will be here but I know it hasn't been forever and it won't be long.] Time has no meaning—nothing has meaning, except for the missing piece of himself [and the memories I can't always remember], yet Ven can do nothing to get it back, nothing to ease the lack that eats at him constantly."