Title: Mission Impossible
Author: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: T
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.
A/N: This has absolutely nothing to do with the story, but ZOMG!! Am I ever on a massive DBSK bender!! I've spent the past two weeks doing nothing but scouring YouTube for their music videos/interviews/television roles/concerts/etc. I wrote this entire chapter while listening to their song "Dōshite Kimi o Suki ni Natte Shimattandarō?" ("Why Did I Fall In Love With You?"), and this damn song almost made me cry TWICE while typing for no good reason. I don't speak Japanese, but I watched the music video and it's so sweet yet so sad. Then I found the English translations of the lyrics and it made me go all teary eyed all over again.
*WARNING: SPOILER ALERT FOR UPCOMING GAME: 358/2 DAYS!!*
Also, while anxiously awaiting the European release of Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, I did some snooping around online and made a very interesting discovery: according to the latest game's storyline, Saix and Axel used to be good friends before becoming Nobodies. WOW!! Talk about a WTF revelation, though it does explain those new cutscenes I've seen in which Saix actually calls Axel by his original name (and yes, it IS Lea), and, according to the English translations of the scene, he even tells Axel that his friendship with Roxas is fake (since they met after becoming Nobodies) whereas Axel's former friendship with Saix was real.
*END SPOILER ALERT*
And now back to our feature presentation ...
"Momma says that frowning will give you wrinkles."
" ... "
"Momma says braids are for girls."
"..."
"Momma says you shouldn't walk around with sharp things."
" ... "
"Momma says that its rude to point sharp things at others."
" ... "
"AAAAAAH! Mommaaa!"
"Hey, kiddo," Xigbar said, prying the struggling joey from Xaldin's clenched fist. Holding the tiny creature by the back of his blue shirt, Xigbar tapped him on the nose in what was meant to be a mildly chastising manner, but, being in a poor mood himself, he tapped a bit too hard, which brought tears to the stuffed animals eyes. "Ah, cut that out. Isn't it about time you scampered off?"
"M-Meanie!" said the young kangaroo, lower lip trembling.
"Seriously, if you don't stop crying I'll—"
"Your parenting skills are sorely lacking, Xigbar."
"Aw, shut up. Deal with him, Super Nanny."
Luxord caught the joey with one hand. Giving the youngsters a calming smile, he put him down.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to look for playmates elsewhere," he said. "My friends and I are here on important grown-up business. And, as you can see, some of us aren't very friendly to begin with, so may I suggest going home?"
"I can send him home in a box ... " Xaldin sneered, retaking his seat against a tree.
"What, like a present?" asked the clueless joey, and gave an excited hop. "Like a present for Momma? She'd love that! With wrapping paper and a big bow on top? Let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!"
"I say, what's that over there?" Luxord said suddenly, moving the joey away when Xaldin summoned two of his lances. He pointed to a distant cluster of trees. "Did you see that? Is that what I think it was?"
"What? What? What?" shouted the joey, hopping with every "What do you see?"
"Wasn't that ... a heffalump?"
"WOW! Really? I don't see anything—"
"There it goes! Quick, my lad, after it before it gets away! You'll be known as the legendary Roo the Heffalump Capturer, and your mother will never make you go to bed early ever again!"
"No more strengthening medicine either?" asked the joey, making a face.
"For a great hunter such as yourself? Never! Hurry along now, before it escapes! And don't hesitate to chase it down all day if you have to. In fact, only return to us once you've caught it."
"Yay! See ya!"
And off went Roo the joey, sprinting across the meadow at breakneck speed, surprisingly swift for something so tiny and stuffed with cotton.
The six Nobodies breathed out loud sighs of relief.
"Bah, children!" Xaldin said, rubbing his head as he stretched out his cramping legs. "No control, these days. We'd get whipped back in Radiant Gardens for disturbing adults."
Xigbar, back up high in the branches, gave Xaldin, directly beneath him, a puzzled look.
"Bogus. Ansem opposed corporal punishment for kids, including us."
"What are you talking about?" Xaldin asked with a suspicious glare. "Then why did I have to hide in the manure shed for two weeks after accidentally blowing all his books off their shelves?"
"Ah, so that's where you disappeared to that time," said Xigbar, rubbing his scarred chin and doing a very poor job of hiding his amusement. "Meh. You must have misinterpreted things back then."
"You were the one who told me to run and hide until the coast was clear!"
" ... Oh yeah! Hahahahaha! Damn, I'm good, ain't it?" Xigbar now grinned widely, thinking back on the deception with a fond look in his eye. "Ansem never found out who did it, but his only threat was to make the perpetrator write lines. I didn't think you'd actually believe that he'd drag you down to the dungeons, strap you to a X-board and whip you to pieces."
Xaldin threatened to rise, but the argument was interrupted by a third.
"Excuse me," said Axel in a very sarcastic voice. He'd been silent for the past two hours, which would have been some sort of record had anyone cared to record it. "Sorry to break up your little skip down memory lane, but did you two forget why we're in these damn woods in the first place?"
From where he lay on his stomach, with a growing patch of grassless ground before him as he plucked out blade for blade with a bored expression, Roxas looked up with dull eyes as Axel, looking slightly unhinged, leapt up from the tree trunk he'd been brooding on. The plucks of music coming from the mound nearby fell silent as Demyx quickly put away his sitar, fearing it would fall victim yet again to one of his teammates' sour dispositions.
Axel marched up to his superiors, glaring up at Xigbar in particular. He made a senseless motion with his arms, as if too frustrated to formulate his words properly, before finally settling on good old fashion blame-laying.
"You were there," he said, also casting an accusing look over at Luxord. "You both were there, and you didn't do anything! You let what happened happen and now we're in it deeper than before!"
Despite being so rudely accused by a subordinate, Xigbar wasn't fazed enough to do more than slap his forehead and exclaim, in sardonic fashion, "Damn! How could we not have smelled that your Master Plan was going down the drain then and there? So totally uncool of us."
"I shiver to imagine what the Superior would have done if he'd discovered that we'd been spying on them in such a ... private situation," said Luxord, looking around the clearing they'd taken shelter in despondently. "How long have we been here, by the way?"
"Six days," Roxas said, checking his handy drawn-in-sand calendar.
At that, they all heaved heavy sighs.
Roxas went back to vandalizing the pristine grass of the Hundred Acre Wood, missing the privacy of his room back in the Castle, free of sniping Nobodies and interfering stuffed animals.
Watching as Axel continued to argue with Xigbar, Roxas thought back on how different a scene it had been six days ago, when Xigbar and Luxord had returned with the promising news that the Superior and Saix had locked lips in a Port Royal alley. Well, at first none of them believed the story, and Xaldin had forcibly administered a breathalyzer test on the two, convinced they were both drunk off their asses. Once they were proven sober and telling the truth, they'd been the happiest plague victims the universe had ever seen ... until the Superior barged into the infirmary unannounced, looking as though someone had drawn a giant smiley face on Kingdom Hearts.
Without giving any of them a chance to fake a cough or pained groan, he'd shoved a large jar of reeking rum into Xigbar's hands, opened a portal, and ordered them all to the Hundred Acre Woods for a reconnaissance mission. The orange blaze in his eyes had sent them running, scabby skinned and all, without so much as a question or complaint.
On the plus side, they'd all since completely recovered from their ill-conceived self-induced plague symptoms. Even Axel had been somewhat cheered up at having his full head of shocking red hair back, and Xaldin's sideburns were even once more.
Xigbar had handed the noxious rum apples to the first person they'd encountered, a young boy named something-or-the-other Robin, if Roxas had heard him correctly, and Luxord, familiar enough with this world to know its regular comings and goings, had commented that the boy had uncharacteristically been absent for the past few days.
Other than that one probable case of poisoning an inhabitant, they'd remained as inconspicuous as possible, hiding in the deeper parts of the woods. Unable to vent their confusion and frustration the usual way—slaughtering Heartless—it hadn't taken long for the first signs of restlessness to surface.
Axel was still fuming, offended that things hadn't gone according to plan, despite having not put much thought into his plan in the first place.
Xigbar had hated this world ever since an unfortunate run-in with a piglet that had ended up with him being blown into a tall tree, where he'd then been promptly set upon by an angry hive of honey bees. He'd cheered up a bit at the thought of having intoxicated a minor (which Xaldin believed to be illegal and creepy), but it was only a matter of time before he'd run off and bring misery upon the first hapless sap he encountered.
Xaldin hated every world, and everyone in every world. End of.
Luxord was doing his best to remain civil, but since no one was in the mood for a game of cards the Gambler's gentlemanly patience was wearing thin.
Demyx was still too shaken by the sight of a wrathful Superior to do much of anything, other than pluck sadly at his sitar in a corner. Twice Xaldin had told him to be quiet, and Xigbar had overruled that order on both occasions, but still Demyx did his best to stay out of everyone's way.
Roxas supposed that he was the only one who wasn't as upset about their short-term exile. (This place wasn't that bad.) He spent most of his time thinking; daring to contemplate a theory he didn't yet dare voice, especially since everyone else was being so tetchy.
'Why would the Superior be so angry about what happened between him and Saix?' Roxas wondered silently, propping up his head on one hand. 'And why would he take it out on us? ... Is he even taking it out on us? What's the point of sending us away ... unless he suspects that we had something to do with it ... But he can't ... So ... '
"Hey," Demyx said, plopping down next to Roxas. "Think they'll be okay?"
Roxas looked over to where Xaldin had Axel in a headlock, demanding an apology from the neophyte while Luxord tried to pry the beefy arm from around a gasping Axel's neck. Xigbar wasn't very interested in breaking up the fight, but now seemed affronted at Axel's accusations that he'd been too chicken to step in during the epic drama that had gone down in Port Royal.
"We can start worrying once they draw their weapons," Roxas said, flipping over onto his back and folding his hands behind his head. "I don't mind if someone gets hurt, really. Maybe that'll be enough to shut them all up."
Luxord managed to free Axel, but only because Xaldin had remembered that he owed two weeks spent in a reeking shed as a kid to Xigbar. While Luxord coached Axel in the art of breathing, Xaldin made a lunge for Xigbar. Demyx jumped to his feet, but quickly sat back down when it became obvious that Xigbar needed no assistance: the Freeshooter had taken the liberty of intensifying the gravity beneath the Lancer's feet, effectively forcing Xaldin into a painful crouch. Things became even more colourful ten seconds later when the muscle cramps began to set in, although half the things Xaldin was threatening to do to Xigbar once he freed himself were physically impossible.
Fights among them weren't uncommon, but Roxas couldn't help but shoot Demyx a dubiously amused look at the other's unexpected desire to go to Xigbar's aide. Demyx coughed and turned his back to the oblivious Freeshooter, eyes averted.
"Er, actually, I meant whether the Superior and Saix would be okay," he said quickly.
This could just be an ingenious cover-up to hide his inexplicable concern for Xigbar's wellbeing, but Roxas didn't waste time and effort chasing that particular topic since Demyx had brought up the very thing that had been weighing on his mine all week.
"I didn't think the Superior was even capable of showing emotions, period," Demyx continued, relief etched on his face when Roxas didn't tease him about his earlier gaff. "He's a scary guy and all, but ... the way he looked when he sent us away ... It's like he couldn't control himself. The Superior couldn't control himself. That's, like, his thing: control. It's like my music, or Axel's fire, or Luxord's cards."
"Makes you wonder whether he is wrong about the whole 'We have no authentic emotions' bit, doesn't it?" Roxas asked, propping himself up on his elbows, squinting against the sunlight filtering in through the trees. "Demyx, are you thinking what I'm thinking ... ?"
" ... I don't know. Am I? I'm kinda sure I'm not, unless you're thinking about ice cream. Hey, there's a thought! Maybe they have ice cream here. I'm starving!"
Sometimes even Roxas could only sigh and shake his head at IX's short attention span. He pushed himself up and motioned for Demyx to follow him. Together, they stole away from the rest, which wasn't an accomplishment. In his attempts to pull Xaldin into an upright position Luxord had somehow earned himself the Lancer's ire, and Axel was waving a burning finger in Xigbar's unimpressed face. Roxas and Demyx could have shot out of there on a sparkling rocket and still go unnoticed.
Together they exited the confines of the woods and made their way down a narrow lane that eventually led them to one of the many tree-homes, complete with its own front steps and letterbox. A lopsided sign had been stuck into an unused flowerpot and read:
Away all day on sick visit. You are welcomed to join us at Christopher Robin's house to pay him well-wishes until he recovers.
Trust Xigbar to bring alcohol into a children's story book and nearly kill off one of the main characters. Peeping into the windows to make sure no one was in, Roxas sat down, took a minute or two to enjoy the peace out here, then motioned Demyx—who was still looking in through the windows, fascinated—to join him on the front mat.
"Axel's planned worked," Roxas said.
"Huh? Really? Things are even worse than before," Demyx said, juggling a miniature flowerpot and almost dropping it. He quickly returned it to its rightful spot next to the crooked sign. "I know Axel's your best friend and all, but I don't think he's helped us out at all. Now the Superior really mad at us—"
"Not at us," Roxas said. "If he was mad at us he'd have sent us to the Underworld or Halloween Town, or somewhere else swarming with Heartless. Instead, he sent us to this place. Yeah, it's so peaceful and cutesy here that it has Xaldin wanting to scratch his eyes out, and everyone's on edge, but at least we're safe. It really doesn't feel like much of a punishment. He doesn't know about the Master Plan, or we'd really be in a world of pain."
Demyx took a while to think this over.
"So, you think he's mad with Saix?"
"I considered that, but it wouldn't make any sense. The Superior could have been offended or outraged by Saix's reaction, but that kiss caught them both off guard, so Saix isn't really to blame here."
Demyx made a face as though he understood, but couldn't keep it up for long.
"But how does any of this prove Axel right?"
"As far as the Superior's concerned, this is just between him and Saix. If the Superior's angry with himself, what's he got to be angry about ... ?"
" ... "
"Demyx, who initiated the first kiss?" Roxas said, trying to reel in Demyx, who was being distracted by a pair of butterflies.
"Huh? Oh, er ... the Superior."
"And the second kiss?"
"The Superior."
"So, if someone is to blame for what happened between them, who would that be?"
"The Superior—Hey!" Demyx perked up with an excited bounce. "He's angry because he chased Saix away? As in, he wanted Saix to stay with him, is that it? Seriously? Awesome! Well, not really awesome ... but good, ya know? I mean, that must mean he at least cares about Saix ... doesn't it?"
"There's only one way to find out," Roxas said, getting to his feat, almost hitting his head on the low doorframe. "I'm going back."
"Wha? Back to headquarters? Nuh-uh, Roxas, I really don't think that's a good idea!"
"Better than just sitting around here, waiting for Xaldin to poke Axel full of holes. I'm just going to scope out the situation. If anyone asks, I went to look for something to eat."
"Not good. So not good," Demyx said even as Roxas opened a portal. "What if something happens to you? You wouldn't stand a chance against either the Superior or Saix. Get Axel to go with you—"
"It'll be easier to hide my presence if I'm alone," Roxas said, slipping free of Demyx's desperate grasp. "Be back soon."
"Wait ... "
But Roxas stepped through the portal without looking back.
Alone on the tiny doorstep, Demyx was torn between returning to the others, as told, or following his gut instincts and chasing after Roxas. It was suicide, going to the Castle, knowing the kind of mood the Superior was in. Even scarier, who knew what mood Saix was in, let alone his current location. Roxas was a good kid. Demyx liked him a lot. He didn't want to have to scrape whatever remained of him off the floors and walls. As the only one who knew Roxas' plans, he'd be held responsible for sure.
"Not fair!" he wailed, already imagining the accusatory eyes of their comrades. "I didn't mean for him to get ripped to shreds!"
"What's with you?" asked a drawling voice behind him.
Demyx jumped with a loud "Eep!" and turned to find Xigbar sauntering towards him, idly spinning what looked like a grey cloth tail with a pink ribbon on one end and a nail on the other.
Caught off guard, by Xigbar no less, Demyx panicked.
"Er ... Roxas went ... uh ... to get shoes! No, wait ... Clues? Tools? ... What was it he told me to say again—I mean, what is it that I happen to know he went for, because he didn't tell me to lie for him or anything, okay?" Demyx laughed nervously, feeling slightly flustered at the same time. "It's not like he went to do anything other than get ... Food! Yes! He went to get food! That's it. Nothing else going on, so you don't need to ask what's going on or anything ... er, sir! Hey, whatcha doing here? Taking a walk?"
Xigbar, who'd been looking bored, narrowed his eye in suspicion.
"Well, I was looking for you, but now that you pointed it out, where is Roxas?"
But Demyx didn't really catch the last part.
"You were looking for me?" he asked, in an embarrassingly high voice. Clearing his throat, he added a more manly sounding, "Why?"
"Because you were missing," Xigbar said plainly, snapping the cloth tail at a butterfly fluttering around his head. "This place's bad enough without having to listen Axel bitching all the time. Luxord managed to calm Xaldin down by somehow getting him involved in a card game, but I owe them both munny."
Demyx shrank back against the tree, the doorbell poking him uncomfortably in the lower back, though all he really noticed was Xigbar planting one hand next to his head and leaning in.
"So, where is Roxas?" Xigbar asked. "Whether I like it or not, I'm currently in charge of this bunch and I don't want to be losing anyone on my turn. Where did the kid go?"
" ... Away?"
"No duh. Where did he go for 'food'?"
" ... He'll be back soon."
"From where?"
Demyx made a helpless sound, hoping the solution would come along soon and handle this for him, but after several tense moments it was still just the two of them, staring at each other. When Xigbar sighed Demyx flinched, expecting some sort of disciplinary action for not cooperating. When nothing happened he peeked out of one eye.
"You coming?" Xigbar asked, already continuing on down the path.
"W-Where?" Demyx asked, following anyway.
"Got some time to kill, so let's drop by that Christian Swallow kid."
"I think his name is Christopher Robin."
"Whatever, dude," Xigbar said, flinging the tail away into some bushes where its unhappy owner would probably never find. "Must be boring round his house, with him being sick and everyone worried that he'll never get better. Let's swing by and make things more interesting."
"And you want me to come with you? Really?" Demyx asked, excited.
"The more the merrier," Xigbar said, already plotting something grand in his head. "And what's a water balloon fight without some water?"
" ... I don't think anyone will be in the mood for a water balloon fight over there."
"Well, they're getting one, whether they like it or not," Xigbar said with a grin that promised nothing good for Christopher Robin and his friends.
Falling in step, Demyx watched Xigbar as the other began listing the many traps he could think up from the top of his head. Even as the Freeshooter described his idea of a tsunami-based ambush—and dismissing the chance that some of the victims couldn't swim—Demyx smiled at the other's eagerness. Yes, he was plotting a potentially deadly prank, but it was nice to see the Freeshooter happy. In a strange way, it suited him.
Kingdom Hearts had always been beautiful, majestic and captivating, but Xemnas couldn't recall having ever attributed the word 'lonely' to his greatest creation. But that's what stood out the most now. It was one of a kind, his masterpieces, but as big as it was, Kingdom Hearts still looked small, up in the great black expanse of the perpetual night sky. All the way up there ... All by itself ...
With a frustrated growl, Xemnas stood, grabbed the heavy chair he'd been sitting in, and hurled it over the edge of the Altar of Naught, where it tumbled down into neon-dotted oblivion and landed with a distant crash on the pile of wrecked chairs that had preceded it.
There was a flutter of robes as two Sorcerer Nobodies brought in a new chair (the fifteenth for this evening) for Xemnas to sink back in with a sigh. It wasn't common for him to have his servant Nobodies around him, but ever since his return to the Castle they'd kept close to him, disturbed by their master's strange behaviour. Trays of untouched food and drinks stood everywhere, as did the scrolls and books the Sorcerers had brought up from his office, hoping work would be enough to draw his attention away from the unhelpful skies.
This place, what had once been his absolute sanctuary, had failed to calm him. For the first time ever, Kingdom Hearts was not enough to settle his errant thoughts. He'd been here for days, waiting for clarity to come to him in the soft light of Kingdom Hearts, but the silence had stretched on without answers.
Until now.
Xemnas cursed beneath his breath when he felt a shift in his mind.
" ... heh ... "
"Is that all you have to say?" Xemnas asked the Voice, which had been blissfully quiet since that cursed night. "You've had days to come up with new material."
"Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" chuckled the Voice. "I notice you haven't done anything to heal that painful burn he gave you."
Resisting the urge to touch the blistered skin on his chest, Xemnas looked away, even though there was not much else to look at.
"Such a fierce rejection from a loyal underling—"
"It wasmy behaviour that was deplorable, not his."
"You are the Superior, Xehanort!" the Voice snapped, suddenly not even patient enough to toy with him first. "Who was he before you found him? Who were they before you organized them? You are the Master, which makes them your slaves, and a slave does not disobey his master, ever ... You know all too well how quickly rebellion can lead to downfall. Your former master knows this all too well, and you almost suffered the same fate—"
"Marluxia and Larxene were mistakes," Xemnas growled, rising, but it was impossible to walk away from his tormentor.
"And yet Saix attacked you. Is that loyalty? Is that trust? Regardless of your own actions, shouldn't he have trusted you enough to let you with him do as you so pleased? If he is devoted to you, why could he not surrender to you on demand?"
Bracing himself against the high back of his chair, Xemnas clenched his fingers around the white wood and glared at the cushioned seat.
" ... You still think of it, don't you?"
Xemnas closed his eyes, trying not to think about it.
"You can't hide it from me, Xehanort. I can see everything that goes on in your head. You've been out here for six days and nights, staring up at Kingdom Hearts, but all I see in here, in your mind is your missing pet. I know how often you've relived that moment when you had him against that wall, delighted with the feel of that mouth ... "
Those lips ... He could still feel them ... He wanted to taste them again ...
Six days. It had been six days since he'd last seen Saix. He'd lost count of how long it had been since he'd lost his heart, but he was aware of every minute and hour that had passed since Saix had left. He had never gone this long without hearing from the Diviner. He'd never not known the other's whereabouts. Now, without him around, it seemed impossible to function.
That face ... That skin ... That ... That feeling ... A feeling?
He didn't know what to think anymore. In a few seconds, in that alley, his research and beliefs had been trampled to dust. He had tried to deny it at first; had tried to come up with a theoretical explanation, but even with his sheer genius he could not clarify what was happening to him.
"Satisfying, was it? Empowering, having the infamous Berserker at your mercy," snickered the Voice. "Can you only imagine what would have happened had he surrendered to you completely? What would you have done, Xehanort ... ?"
Theoretically speaking, his symptoms strongly suggested that he ... desired Saix. Even when he factored out his inability to feel anything, he couldn't understand how this sensation could have gripped him so suddenly. After all this time, why now? Why so sudden, and so intense? Had it been the kiss? But what had spurred him to kiss Saix in the first place? What sort of undiscovered senses had he unknowingly tapped into, and how could he bury them once more? What sort of curse had been placed upon him?
"This is no curse, except perhaps the curse of Man."
"I am no longer human," Xemnas said, wandering back and forth across the white tiles, followed at a respectful distance by his anxious Sorcerers. "I am a Nobody. I have no heart. I have no feelings. I have no heart ... No heart ... I have ... I am ... Nobody ... "
"Don't you want to become somebody again?"
"Yes."
The Voice lowered, sounding tempting and seductive as it whispered to him.
"Then let me help you. We are already one, but we can truly be whole again. No one else can give you back your heart, Xehanort ... Look before you. Look at this world you created. What do you see?"
Looking over the low wall, down at the Dark City, Xemnas saw nothing but an abomination. This world was fake, without life or heart; nothing but an empty replica. It truly was a Nobody's world.
"True, it is a flawed world, but it is a world you created. This Organization is your creation. Kingdom Heart is your creation. You have so much potential, Xehanort. Your goal is so close ... Kingdom Hearts, and all its power, is right there before you. You have harnessed its power, and, once ready, you will be able to unleash and control it. Wasn't that your intent from the very beginning? Wasn't that all that mattered once?"
The neon dots of city lights were growing dimmer, fading out of sight, into the dark mass of uninhabited buildings which seemed to melt into the black skies. All that remained was Kingdom Hearts, a shining beacon above a sea of nothingness.
"Refocus your sight, Xehanort," urged the Voice. "Can't you see? Only Kingdom Hearts can ever complete you, yet you have been neglecting it in favour of brooding. Kingdom Hearts will be your salvation: do not waste it on anything so trivial as one rebellious slave."
"Saix is ... "
"How different is he from Marluxia? He may not be seeking to usurp you, but I fear he's done something much worse. Surely, he is the reason behind your recent uncertainty. I have seen your thoughts stray to him often, Xehanort; thoughts I have never before heard you express towards others. Perhaps ... it is for the best that he not return."
"I will be the judge of that," Xemnas said, though not as resolutely as he should have.
"You would let him return? And what then? His presence will only distract you. His presence will only tempt you to repeat your actions in Port Royal. Admit it, Xehanort: you cannot resist him. He resisted you, but would that be enough to dissuade you next time? What if it happens again? What if it happens again in the presence of the rest? Your leadership would be tarnished, Xehanort. What would the others think of you if they saw you unable to control yourself around a mere Neophyte? Is one lost pet worth the integrity of the entire Organization?"
... Weakness. If the others saw him like this, they would think him weak ... dependent.
"You cannot have both, Xehanort. You cannot hold control over both. Which will it be: Kingdom Hearts, or the Neophyte?"
Why couldn't he have both? ... Why did he want both? At what point had Saix become so important to him? Was it ... Was the Voice speaking sense? Was it true that Saix had actually drawn his attention away from Kingdom Hearts?
"What matters the most to you? Chasing false emotions, or regaining the heart that will return to you genuine feelings?"
He couldn't have feelings for Saix without a heart ... but if he did feel something for the Diviner, did that mean there was more to it than that ... ? But what if they were truly false emotions? How could he trust himself to be able to distinguish between truth and falsity without a heart?
"Your heart or your pet, Xehanort."
Without his heart, he'd forever be a Nobody ... If Saix returned, could he trust himself to restrain himself? ... No, he ... he didn't know ... it was too dangerous ... If Saix returned ... if he lost control again, and lost everything ... he'd lose both ...
"A difficult decision, but which will it be?" the Voice purred soothingly. "Your heart or your pet, Xehanort?"
Xemnas turned his back to Kingdom Hearts, leaning against the low wall. Staring across the white expanse of the Alter of Naught, his eyes settled on one spot near the top of the stairs. Often he'd turned to find Saix right there, patiently waiting to be acknowledged. This had once been his shrine for Kingdom Hearts; a private place where he could worship his creation, and yet Saix had somehow become a part of it. Up here, where it should have been just him and Kingdom Hearts, he had grown used to having Saix by his side ...
"Is he truly as important to you as Kingdom Hearts? Can he give you what you want? He even refused to even give himself to you when you wanted it in that alley. What worth is he compared to Kingdom Hearts, Xehanort?"
The touch and feel ... The reaction and rejection ...
"Chose, Xehanort!"
" ... My heart."
A ripple of content pleasure made him shiver as the Voice sighed, pleased with his answer.
"You've chosen well, Xehanort. You have finally remembered who you truly are: the Superior. You and I, we need no one else but each other."
The Voice faded, leaving Xemnas to slump back down into his chair. Worried, his Sorcerers fluttered around him, trying to elicit a response, waving their robed hands before his empty eyes and calling out to him in their lisped tongues.
Xemnas could only stare up at the giant moon heart, noting the dark craters on its rough surface; its imperfections.
' ... My heart ... ' he thought, placing a hand over his burnt chest. ' ... If I've chosen my heart ... why does it feel as though I've lost it all over again? ... '
Saix hated Halloween Town.
This would come as a shock to the others if they ever were to find out, but of all the worlds in this universe, there was none he dreaded more than this haunting freak show of a world. The Underworld was filled with the Dead, but Halloween Town was governed by monsters, many of whom were technically dead yet insisted on staying on, dragging their rotting corpses around the grim town, filling the air with the putrid stench of decaying flesh and infected wounds. The "living" were no better.
Witches and ghouls and goblins cackled over cauldrons while ghosts chased emaciated black cats and grotesquely fat children through the scraggly woods while their worm-haired, one-eyed parents cooked pots of insects and intestines for dinner. Skeletons danced in the street for coins and eyeballs, playing music on their bare ribs while furry and scaly onlookers cheered. Screams erupted almost every ten minutes from the crooked buildings, followed by delighted shrieks of laugher that would send flocks of greasy crows soaring into the night sky.
Having left behind the rowdy Town Square in favour of the nearby graveyard, which he shared with only one other: a six-legged dog that slept half buried in its own grave. Balanced perfectly on the oddly shaped mound the denizens called Moonlight Hill situated in the middle of the graveyard, Saix looked up at the harsh yellow full moon, reflecting on many things, including how much he hated this world.
A world of monsters: surely, this was a fitting place for him.
Only a monster, a savage, a brute, would have done what he did.
Snarling, Saix pressed the heels of his palms onto his brow and lay back, draping himself across the curling tip of the hill, one leg dangling while the other bent at the knee to anchor him to the spot. With the exception of the moon, or occasional broom-mounted witch and vampire bat that would fly by, the sky was empty. Dead. Skilled in divination as he was, even Saix could read nothing up there. It was a blank slate, and it made him miss the ethereal beauty of Kingdom Hearts even more. In times like these, only the promising glow of his only hope could calm his mind.
But he couldn't return to the World That Never Was. He had committed the worst crime any Nobody could commit: he had attacked their leader; their Superior. Not even XI, who'd been so boldly ambitious, had ever dared to strike out at the Superior. Only a mindless animal would bite the hand that had fed him. Saix didn't fear punishment: indeed, he strongly believed that he'd deserve it, but the shame of facing the Superior was unbearable. To stand before the others, admitting that he'd dishonoured, not merely himself, but their leader as well ... He did not even deserve an audience with the Superior after what he'd done.
Since it had been six days since the incident, and no sign of any Organization members, it seemed as though they wouldn't even waste their time tracking him down. He hadn't tried to cover his tracks, and II would definitely be able to find him effortlessly if given the order, and yet no one had come looking for him. It was not Organization policy to postpone punishment: if retaliation had not been carried out by now, would it ever be? Or had the remaining Nobodies chosen to forgo retribution and had instead already dismissed him from their ranks?
The wind picked up, unpredictable as always, blowing his hair about as it tried to dislodge him from his perch, but Saix barely noticed its efforts save for brushing the waving strands of blue hair out of his face as they obstructed his view of the moon.
'The Superior gave VIII direct orders to see to XI and XII's disposal ... but he has issued no such order against me,' he realized. 'Was mine an act so despicable I am not even worthy of assassination? Have I really offended you more than those two traitors ... ?'
"Excuse me, dearie!" A warty witch in bright orange shoes was hovering above him on her broom, on the end of which a black cat was clinging desperately to the handle to prevent itself from being carried off by the winds. "You wouldn't happen to know if Oogie Boogie's manor is nearby, would you, young man? My third and forth eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be," she said, pointing a spindly finger at a second pair of eyes just barely concealed by the wide brim of her hat. "Be a dear and help a sweet, old hag out?"
Nothing. No outrage at being disturbed. No offense at being called such sickening pet names. No desire to alleviate some of his pent up frustration on this unsuspecting victim. Saix stared at her a bit longer, waiting to see whether his rage would belatedly kick in, but when she gave him an impatient look he sat up, looked around to get his bearings, and pointed in the right direction.
"Follow the bridge across the river, then the trail beyond the woods," he said.
The witch rose higher into the sky and pulled out a crooked telescope with a blinking eye for a lens. Peering through it, she eventually located the infamous abode.
"Thank you so much, my pretty," she said, giving Saix a horrible smile that exposed all of her three remaining teeth and a forked tongue. "That sack of bugs owes me ten dragon hearts! I'll turn him into larvae for sure this time! Here, for you troubles."
A brown parcel landed with a wet squish next to him. Saix didn't need to open it to know it contained some sort of meat that had gone bad a couple of days ago. Waiting until the witch had soared off, cackling gleefully, Saix kicked the parcel away with the toe of his boot and erased the random interruption from his memory.
Unaware of his actions, he lightly touched his lips with the tips of his fingers. It had never occurred to him how sensitive lips could be until he'd felt the Superior's on his.
The first contact the Superior had initiated had been unexpected, but Saix had remained as calm as possible, despite the discomfort of being pushed up against a wall by someone as powerful as the Superior. Despite not understanding what was happening, he'd submitted to the Superior's will, believing there to be a solid explanation behind it. The taste of the Superior's blood on his tongue had alarmed him, causing him to squirm, which had caused the Superior to pull back.
To Saix's knowledge, touching lips were only done on two occasions: as an attempt to resuscitate someone, or as an intimate gesture between mates. Up until the Superior's actions, Saix had been perfectly capable of breathing on his own, so it had not been a rescue issue. And since Nobodies didn't mate—and since he and the Superior certainly had no incentive to mate with each other—it couldn't have been the second option either.
Instead of an explanation, however, the Superior had shoved Saix back against the wall, this time with a look Saix had only ever seen him give Kingdom Hearts. The contact was even more intense than before, and the feel of the Superior's tongue forcing its way into his mouth had given Saix the strong impression that the Superior seemed to be expecting something from him. Not knowing what to do, yet aware that he was in some way disappointing his Superior by not doing whatever it was he should have been doing, Saix had tried to bring an end to the unusual experiment, and then ...
'I did not even stay to heal his wounds ... I did not even inform the others that the Superior might be injured ... I ... abandoned him ... I deserted him ... '
And now, in turned, it appeared that he had been abandoned by the Organization.
In his silence, the Superior seemed to be making his point: Saix was no longer one of them.
'Superior, I ... '
The loud howl of greeting from the foot of the hill made him sit up with a hiss.
Rather than be intimidated by the fierce reaction, however, the snaggle-toothed werewolf looping towards him looked impressed, almost on the verge of an appreciative applause, being the fear-hardened creature that he was. At almost ten feet tall, he towered above Saix as he lumbered over on his hind legs, carrying with him the parcel of meat Saix had kicked down the hill earlier.
"Fine evening. Does this item belong to you?" asked the werewolf with an eloquence that didn't fit his bestial appearance.
"No. Do you wish to pass?" Saix asked, aware that this unusual sentient hill was used by many as a short-cut across the cemetery walls and into wilder territories.
Already tearing into the mouldy meat, the werewolf wrinkled his long snout, staring at Saix with matching yellow eyes, though his were dull and bloodshot. The werewolf swallowed the chunk he'd been chewing on and sniffed the air between them.
"You don't smell familiar," he said, dismissing Saix question with a shake of his head. "And there's something ... odd about you. Are you really from the Eastern pack?"
"I have made no such claim. If you have no business in crossing this hill then you had better move along, dog."
"A fine way to treat your fellow," said the werewolf. Licking his claws clean, he hunched down next to Saix, looking more interested than before. "It is rude to not transform when greeting others, either. You're not a recessive ginger, are you? Your hair is blue, but it is only typical of Red-coats to be shy about their wolf-forms. Are you from further south?"
"I do not know what you are talking about," Saix said, callously refusing to meet the other's eyes, "but clearly you have misidentified me. What I am is something you cannot even begin to fathom. If you are seeking the company then you must look elsewhere, for even if my current disposition were welcoming of camaraderie, you and I have nothing in common."
The werewolf leaned back, head tilted to one side.
"You ... cannot transform," he said incredulously, his tail twitching nervously at the 'discovery'. "I can sense it now. What have you done to yourself? Does your pack leader—"
Saix was on his feet, claymore pressed against the beast's throat before the werewolf could even finish the sentence.
"I have slaughter thousands far larger and a hundred times stronger than you," Saix said, growling the words, at last feeling some stirring of his familiar rage. "I was going to let you walk away unharmed, but you forfeited that right with your senseless questions and accusations. Hear me when I say that I am not your kin, nor do I answer to lesser leaders."
The werewolf eyed the claymore, then followed the line along Saix's arm and straight into his eyes, where he once again read something unspoken.
"So you're an exile as well," said the werewolf confidently, inching away from the blade with his head low in peaceful submission. "What was your crime?"
Saix hesitated, then chose to say nothing.
"That bad, was it?" asked the werewolf. "The old hierarchy is not known for its leniency. I was cast out of my pack for challenging the second-in-command in an unprovoked attack. I surmise you did something similar ... ?"
"I ... " Saix shook his head with a sneer. "Our situations are not compatible. I am a Nobody, and nothing more."
"A Nobody? I have never heard of such a race," said the werewolf, correctly reading Saix's posture, knowing the Diviner had lost interest in killing him. "But I do know a werewolf when I see one. The truth is etched into your face, as it is on mine."
"Your attempts at riddled confusion will not fool me," said Saix, vanquishing his claymore. Pulling up his hood, he slipped past the beast and began to descend the hill. "I have no more food on me, so I suggest you go scavenge elsewhere."
Though there were no footsteps, Saix felt the trigger in the air and was ready when a strong grip clamped down on his lower arm. At this close distance his claymore would be useless so, using his teeth, he ripped off his glove on his free hand and swung around, sharp claws ready to slit the werewolf's throat ... but catching a glimpse of the other's face Saix abruptly called off his own attack and twisted himself free to leap back several feet.
"Convinced now, are you?"
It was without doubt the werewolf: his voice was the same, as was his scent, but in the place of a shaggy, snaggle-toothed wolf-monster was a tall human-like male in tattered pants. He had pointed ears, fell yellow eyes and short blue hair that was just a shade or two lighter than Saix's. Two long scars, which had been hidden beneath his wolf-fur, crisscrossed the pale, chiselled face, forming a crude X between the sharp eyes.
"Like I said, the truth is etched into our face. It is the mark of the Lycans," said the werewolf, tracing a clawed finger over his scars. "It is a warning to others to be wary of us at all times, even when we are in human forms. These marks can never be removed, not even by the most powerful magic performed by the wisest of sorcerers and witches. You may have succeeded in banishing your wolf-form for good, through some unholy means, but you are a werewolf, my brother."
Despite having denied it so fiercely, this damning evidence and its revealing implications didn't affect Saix as badly as it should have.
"If I ever were a werewolf, it was in a past I no longer have any connections with," he said, tearing eyes away from the other's scar. "I have no recollections of my former life, so this revelation, if certainly true, is of little value to me."
The werewolf wordlessly followed him to the tall but crooked cemetery gates. They both paused, looking up and down the winding road paved with grinning skulls.
"Where do you plan to go from here?" asked the werewolf, leaning back against the rusty gates and crossing his arm across his tattooed chest.
"Elsewhere," Saix answered vaguely. "And you would do well to part ways with me here. I do not appreciate being dogged."
He hadn't meant that as a joke, or even a pun, but the werewolf found humour in it nonetheless, throwing back his head to bark a laugh. Puzzled, Saix stopped to stare at the infuriating creature, not for the first time worried that he hadn't felt the overpowering urge to rip its heart out yet.
"Forgive me," chuckled the werewolf, holding up his hands at Saix's unimpressed leer. "I do not mean to further anger you with my laugh. Meeting your acquaintance has been a welcomed change, even if you are an alleged ex-werewolf: being a known exile myself, I am avoided by my former brethren."
"Would that I were as skilful as them," Saix said dryly.
He'd been looking in another direction, but turned just as the werewolf reached out and pushed his hood back. Without making contact, the werewolf traced Saix's scar with his claws, looking so serious he appeared to have undergone yet another transformation.
"You have lost much of your heritage, but there's something else. It is almost as though ... " The werewolf paused, trying to find the proper wording. "Strangely enough, it is as though ... you've lost your centre. I do not mean 'heartless' merely in the sense of the word, but it truly feels as though you are without heart."
This time it was Saix who made an amused sound, though his was bitter.
"Your powers of perception exceed my expectations," he said, leaning back when the fingers tried to touch his face. "I am, indeed, heartless in a way you would not believe. It is my only ambition to repair the damage that has been done, and you are not a part of this mission and are thus of no use to me."
The werewolf suddenly looked up, his long nostrils flaring as he sniffed the sour air.
"The clouds are rolling in from the north," he said. "Rains are coming, and from the smell of it they will be heavy downpours. I might not be able to help further your future ambitions, but I make home on the edge of the town. If you have nowhere to go, you are welcomed to take shelter there."
Saix was certain he should have slaughter this one almost half an hour ago, but after days of aimless wandering and pondering, and learning the disturbing truth that he actually did have ties in the one world he hated the most, he didn't have the extra energy to work himself up into a murderous rage. He did have enough willpower to slap away the hand on his shoulder.
"And why are you so determined to befriend strangers?" he asked.
"Like I said, loneliness is a curse," said the werewolf, pushing himself away from the gate. "It is rare to find a Lycan without a pack, and those who still belong to one refuse to associate with exiles such as you and me. There is no such thing as 'lone wolves' in Lycan society. It is against our nature to be parted from our comrades. Your former pack, you still miss them, do you not?"
Not that he missed VIII throwing water balloons off the Castle turrets, or IX keeping him awake at night with his music, or II leaving muddy footprints on his bedroom ceiling; nor would he be overjoyed to see any of the other members again, but ... it was different without them.
Saix was about to shrug it off when, prompted by the reference to his former comrades, reality struck and he realized, for the first time, that he would probably never again smash IX sitar to pieces; would probably never again force VIII to repaint the patches of walls he'd scorched; would probably never again turn down XI's proposal for a game of cards; would probably never again enjoy a good, brutal sparring match with III; would probably never again hear one of II's rare and knowledgeable theories; would probably never again see the Superior ...
"Are you going to be sick?" the werewolf asked.
Unaware that he'd been covering his mouth with the back of his hand, Saix dropped his arm with a shake of his head. Without a heart he could not properly mourn the loss of everything he'd gained over the years since becoming a Nobody, but it did paint a bleak future picture. Not only was he now truly a nobody without the Organization, but he would never become somebody. Without Kingdom Hearts ...
He blinked when his hood was suddenly pulled back up.
"It's starting to drizzle," the werewolf said, and indeed, fine droplets of water had begun to fall, sprinkling the werewolf's short mane of hair. Walking steadily on barefoot across the glistening stone path, he paused long enough to look back at Saix when the other remained at the gate. "You coming, brother?"
Back in the cemetery, the six-legged dog had sunk almost entirely in its grave, so deep in sleep it was unaware of the rain and the fact that only its nose and one leg still stuck out above ground. In the Town Square, witches were shrieking in pain as they rushed to get out of the rain while children squealed with delight as they splashed about in dirty puddles. The stench of decay and earth was growing stronger, released by the splattering drops of rain.
Adjusting his hood properly, Saix looked back at Moonlight Hill, but the full moon was completely blanketed by the black rainclouds. Nothing but darkness, and emptiness. Slowly, hesitantly, Saix turned away and joined the werewolf where he stood waiting patiently.
"Garmjaw Blackback VI," the werewolf said, holding out a hand to Saix. "Though we should have introduced ourselves earlier. And you are ... ?"
" ... Isa," Saix said, not taking the hand. "Just Isa."
Taking the snub in stride, Garmjaw began pointing out things as they walked on, not hiding his appreciation in finally having some company after all this time. Saix listened with no interest, showing no signs of hearing what the other had to say, though Garmjaw didn't seem to mind this snub either.
As the cemetery gates faded behind a curtain of cold rain, Saix lowered his eyes and touched the centre of his chest, which felt emptier than ever before.
' ... I am sorry, Superior, that I failed you ... I do not deserve to serve you ... Perhaps I am undeserving of a heart ... Perhaps ... it is yours to keep after all ... '
"Are you sure about this?"
Sitting on the tree stump, Roxas nodded gravely. Standing around him, the three older Nobodies looked worried. Luxord and Axel turned to Xaldin, who knew they were waiting on his expertise to clarify the astounding news Roxas had just told them.
Before anyone could speak, however, a voice called out, "Yo! Did you guys know that rum apple fumes can cause acute blackouts in ten-year-olds?"
Everyone turned as a drenched Xigbar appeared from among the trees, followed closely by equally soaked Demyx. Xigbar was enjoying a box of chocolates with a large, handmade "Get Well Soon, Christopher" card still attached to it, while Demyx was the proud owner of a bunch of colourful balloons.
"Apparently, unconscious ten-year-olds can't swim well in a flash flood, either," Xigbar continued, speaking around a mouthful of chocolate as he wrung a stream of water from his limp ponytail. "If none of those stuffed animals know how to administer CPR that kid's fuc— ... " His disconcerting story went unfinished when he noticed the unusually sour mood between them.
"Roxas!" Demyx piped up, running over to grab his hand. "You're back! Geez, you really freaked me out back there! So, how was it? The Superior and Saix, are they, like, cool about the whole thing? You're not hurt, so they can't still be angry, right? Does this mean we can—"
"The Superior has cast Saix out of the Organization," Xaldin cut in, looking directly at Xigbar.
Demyx's balloons floated right out of his limp fingers, up, up into the trees where their strings became ensnared by the branches. Xigbar spat out the chocolate he'd been enjoying and shoved the box into Demyx's hands (he dropped that as well) and grabbed Roxas by the front of the coat, bringing the startled blond up to eye-level. Axel stepped forward, but was restrained by Luxord.
"What?" Xigbar asked simply, with enough authority to demand an explanation from a mountain.
"While I was walking through the Castle corridors," Roxas said, wondering why the blame seemed to have fallen on him, "I bumped into one of the Superior's Sorcerers and it told me that the Superior would be calling us back to the Castle soon. I asked it whether Saix had already returned and it said that the Superior has officially stripped Saix of his rank and that he was no longer welcomed in the World That Never Was."
"Like hell he isn't!" Xigbar roared, surprising them all with his uncharacteristic outrage. Dropping Roxas, the Freeshooter began pacing the clearing, stopping only to summon one of his guns to empty an entire clip into the nearest tree.
"Didn't think you'd take the news so hard," Xaldin said.
"I did not lose an eye and nearly half of my face dragging Saix's psychotic ass back to Castle just for Xemnas to boot him back out over one stupid kiss!" Xigbar sneered, spitting chocolate onto Xaldin's broad chest. "That's it, dude! I was just going along with this for the laughs, but now it's personal! If Xemnas wants to do things the hard way then I'm game!"
"But ... the Superior doesn't even know we had anything to do with it," Demyx said timidly as he tried to salvage the chocolates.
"True. We cannot enforce extreme measures without the risk of revealing our own meddling," Luxord agreed.
Still rubbing his rear after being dropped on it, Roxas noticed that Axel had yet to say anything since hearing the shocking news, which was a very bad sign.
"In that case," Axel finally said, his low voice effectively getting everyone's attention. "In that case ... we have no choice but to use that ... "
Luxord, Demyx and Xaldin had the sensibility to look uncertain, but Xigbar's scheming grin told Roxas all he needed to know: he did not want to be a part of that, whatever it was.
"Do we really have to?" Demyx asked, shaking so hard the dirt-covered chocolates were bouncing around in the box he held. "Remember what happened the last time? The Castle was swarmed with locusts and the water in the taps turned to blood."
"And it took me weeks to finally blow out those belligerent spirits that took up haunting the bathrooms," Xaldin added.
"And Axel's fire turned blue and burned him!" Demyx added onto that.
"But, my friends and fellows," Luxord said before Roxas could demand to know what they were talking about, "although I too shudder at the vivid memories of our last encounter with him, is it not a small price to pay for our mistakes? You are angry that your sacrifice seems to have been in vain, Xigbar, and you are determined to succeed in your Master Plan, Axel, but in all this plotting we seemed to have overlooked the fact that, through our fanciful attempts at playing matchmakers, we are responsible for Saix's exile. We've been handling it like a harmless prank, improvising as we go along, but gambling with the wellbeing of a comrade is too high a stake. To be sent away by the Superior, to whom he'd been nothing but loyal, for circumstances beyond his control and understanding, is quite possibly a punishment worse than death for Saix. If he believes he has lost his standing with the Superior, and his only chance of regaining his heart ... "
The clearing was silent, filled with guilty and uncomfortable stares.
"I don't have a heart," Demyx said softly, "but I'd never want to leave you guys. Saix never really hung out with us, but the Castle was his home too ... and now he cannot come home, because of us."
Luxord's words had gotten through to Xigbar, but it wasn't until Demyx had voiced his opinion that the Freeshooter reacted. Waving them all over, he looked each and everyone one in the eyes.
"We screwed up," he said outright, putting a hand on an increasingly despondent Demyx's shoulder. "But as senior commander, I hold myself the most accountable for this mess. My past with Xemnas allows me certain privileges, but Saix was as much my underling as all of you and I shouldn't have put my needs before his wellbeing. So, now we have a new objective, boys: bring Saix back home."
"What about the Master Plan—OW!" Axel yelped when Roxas stomped on his foot.
"We get Saix back first," Xaldin said, and that was a sequence of words he'd never thought he'd use. "He is our best fighter as well: without him around I will permanently be relegated to Behemoth duty."
"We may have broken many a law in our conduct as an Organization," Luxord said, "but we cannot tolerate injustice among ourselves. Saix is one of ours; one of the few of us left. He belongs with us, and nowhere else."
"Then let's do it!" Demyx said, wiping his eyes on Xigbar's shoulder before holding out his hand, beaming. "Let's go get our Saix back!"
Smiling wryly at the Nocturne's enthusiasm, Xigbar placed his hand on Demyx, and the rest followed suit. Even Roxas, convinced that this new endeavour would be no less insane than the first one, felt a strong sense of unity as he placed his hand on the very top. Dangerous and suicidal as they were, they were all he had, and, as Demyx had said, he would not be parted from them anymore. Somewhere out there, Saix was alone, and that was just not right. If not with them, he should at least be back at the Superior's side, where he was his happiest (or as happy as Saix could get).
" ... We're still going to go to him, though, right?" Axel insisted.
"Damn right we will," Xigbar grinned, accepting the dirt-free chocolate Demyx offered and dropping his authoritative bearing just as quickly. "Just because we're gonna do the right thing doesn't mean we gotta be complete bores about it. Things are always more interesting when Hades gets himself involved, anyway."
Roxas sank back down onto the tree stump, buried his face in his hands, and desperately wished he had a big jar of rum apples to sooth the pain.
Tbc ...
A/N: (Don't know why my A/N's are so long in this chapter.)
I was going to end this chapter with Saix joining Garmjaw, but that would have been a bit too depressing, considering this is meant to be more of a humour fic, so I tacked on the last part to lighten things up a bit. This doesn't mean all is bright and sunny for our favourite Nobodies. You know me: angst is my favourite flavour of life.
"Hey, Ladya, that's all nice and good, but WTF?? You just dumped this random new character and storyline on us? Where did that come from??"
Good question, dear perturbed readers. I have NO idea where this story is heading. I originally planned to wrap this up in one or two more chapters after the alley kiss, but while writing about Saix angsting in that graveyard I thought, "Well, DUH!! Throw in a werewolf, of course!!" and this is what you get. Like I said, the revelations in the newest game (358/2 Days) have given me plenty of new insight on Saix's character. Man, I hope this story won't drag for another six or seven chapters: I'm swamped with work as it is.
Seriously, though, if you haven't heard of DBSK (a South Korean boy band that's currently one of the biggest acts in Asia), then look them up. I was never a big fan of boy bands, so maybe it's just my insane love for anything Asiatic, but these guys are really talented, not to mention super cute/sexy and funny. And that song I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter (and I will not write out the title again because it's so freakin' loooong) actually made me cry four times, and one of those times was on the train ... Yeah, aw-kward.
Good gravy, look at me, fangirl-ing at the ripe old age of 22!! Why can't I get this obsessive over something productive, like working out and going on a diet?
Anywho, it's now two in the morning so I'm gonna treat myself to some pudding and Pepsi and go to bed.
Next chapter: Xemnas is angsting, Saix is reluctantly making new friends, and the rest are off to summon the Lord of the Dead. Never a dull moment, is there?
Read & Review, please.