Disclaimer: KH2 and its characters belong to their creators. I've said this before, haven't I?
-------------------------------------------------
Not That I Care
4
Freaks Like Us
Nothing from nowhere,
I'm no one at all.
--AFI
Roxas slashes his Keyblade through the last of the Heartless and watches the tiny pink hearts float up into the blue. Two weeks with the Organization, and this is his tenth mission—his first one alone.
I think I'm getting the hang of this.
For awhile the only way to call the Keyblade to his hand was for Roxas to be under duress, like when Heartless were about to chomp. Now he doesn't even have to think about it; the Keyblade appears whenever he wants it to. The fighting, though, is another thing entirely. It's strange, how easily it comes to him, what a simple matter it is to destroy a handful of Heartless, no matter the kind or how many there are. From watching Axel and the others he knows it shouldn't be that easy.
That must mean something, but for the life of him he can't remember.
Roxas scans the area, his eyes lingering on the nooks and shadowed areas as he's learned to do—the places Heartless like to hide. He heaves a sigh; they're gone.
"So much for that other Keyblade Master doing his job," Roxas mutters to himself. "This many Heartless still around—" But then he cuts himself off and smacks his forehead. Dammit! Now I'm talking to myself too! The Superior was right, he's rubbing off on me. Shit.
Roxas looks down at the Keyblade in his hands. Ever since Axel told him about the weapon's power, Roxas has practically lived in the library, reading everything he can about it. As near as he can figure, the existence of two Keyblades isn't unheard of—but incredibly rare. A long time ago there was supposedly a time when hundreds of Keyblades existed at the same time, though the author didn't have much information on that. In any case, it usually only happens when something is very wrong in the universe.
Lucky me.
He doesn't want to be the odd one out; he doesn't want to be the special one. Not among a crowd like Organization Thirteen. What he wants is to blend in—to not be noticed. The Keyblade makes him the unicorn in the horse pen.
He immediately hates himself for thinking of that analogy.
The Keyblade disappears in his hands, returning to wherever it is that the weapon returns to. Roxas looks to the sky once more and then waves his hand, opening a dark portal. These were tricky to manage in the beginning—the first portal he opened ended up out in space. Axel will probably never let him forget that one.
Roxas steps into the darkness and travels through the black until he can sense his destination, like white noise in his mind. Light pours in and he steps out on a wide balcony in the castle that Roxas sometimes catches himself referring to as "home."
"Oh, hey Roxas!" says a cheery voice. Roxas looks behind him to see Demyx, sitting on a ledge with his sitar, two cups beside him. "You survived your first solo mission, huh?"
"Evidently," Roxas answers.
Demyx turns a knob to tune his instrument and plucks the string, listening. "I remember my first mission alone," he says, chuckling. "I hate fighting. I totally screwed up, got overrun with Heartless. Axel had to come rescue me."
Roxas has to snort at that. "You trusted Axel to watch your back?" When they're on missions together, Roxas always tries to pretend that Axel simply isn't there. For that at least, Roxas is glad of his own skills—they mean he doesn't need to worry about Axel letting him down.
Demyx laughs heartily and ruffles his yellow mohawk. "Hell no! He was just the only one who bothered to come." Demyx plucks a string again and the sound echoes across the balcony. His smile fades somewhat. "The guys here don't really stick their necks out for each other."
Roxas folds his arms and looks away. "And that surprises you?" It doesn't surprise Roxas. He suspects that even before they lost their hearts, the members of Organization Thirteen weren't the humanitarian kind.
For awhile Demyx doesn't answer, but then he plays a chord on his sitar. He could be good, Roxas thinks, but why a sitar?
"Dude, check this out," Demyx says. Roxas turns back to him. Demyx grins and nods at the two cups beside him. One is filled with water.
Demyx starts to play. Roxas has to hand it to him—for someone with no heart, he puts a lot of feeling into his music. He enjoys it; he loves it; though Roxas wonders how that is possible. His sitar makes the air in the balcony sing.
The cup with the water begins to shudder. As Roxas watches, the water rises out of it in a dancing, snake-like figure. It spirals upward, coiling and twisting, until the last drop has left the cup. Demyx's eyes are closed, intent on his music. The snake of water rises further and arcs through the air until it's over the empty cup. Then it slithers on down and drops in with a splash. Demyx's song finishes and he opens his eyes, grinning.
"Neat, huh?" he says, looking Roxas's way. "Not a drop spilled."
Roxas allows a faint smirk. "Yeah," he says. "Pretty cool." If he hadn't become a Nobody, he'd probably be in some college band, picking up chicks. Roxas shakes his head at the thought. No point in "ifs."
"I'd think you'd have more important things to do than play around, Demyx."
The color goes out of Demyx's face as if a vampire has him by the throat. Roxas looks over his shoulder. Saïx appears out of nowhere, arms folded across his chest, his scarred face deadpan. He glances at Roxas, then his wintry gaze returns to Demyx.
"Saïx," Demyx says in a strangled voice. "I was just—"
"Neglecting your research to play with cups of water," Saïx says, advancing on him. "I can see that."
"Zexion let me go early," Demyx tries to explain, though even Roxas knows that there's no explaining with Saïx. "I mean, it's late now, and we hadn't made much progress, so, um—I just thought, um, I mean—"
"You're saying you have some free time?" Saïx comes to a stop just before him, still speaking in that incredibly soft voice. Demyx is leaning backward, clutching his sitar to his chest as if that will protect him.
"I…"
"The Hall of Empty Melodies needs cleaning," Saïx says, straightening. "Do me a favor and clean it for me. I'll be very angry if I find it anything but spotless tomorrow, Demyx."
"Right, of course. Going." Demyx opens a shadow portal and all but dives straight in.
Roxas knows he isn't supposed to feel anything, but he's pretty sure that he hates Saïx. This is only the second time they've met, but Roxas is starting to get the feeling that Saïx has been watching him. The older Nobody has a cruel streak a mile wide and the disposition of a jackal with the scent of blood in its nostrils. The target of his cruelty is usually Demyx, Marluxia or Axel or, most recently, Roxas. And he's not like Larxene, who's only nasty when she has the opportunity—Saïx goes out of his way to make the opportunity. According to Axel, before he became a Nobody, Saïx was some kind of serial killer.
Axel likes to exaggerate, but Roxas wonders if it's very far from the truth.
"I should be going as well," Roxas says coolly. "Xemnas will be waiting for my report."
Roxas walks past him but then Saïx grabs him by the hood.
"Hold on there, Roxas," he says. "I'd like a word with you."
Roxas doesn't look back at him. He stays as still as possible.
"What word?"
Saïx chuckles. Roxas has trouble recognizing the sound as one of humor. Saïx gives Roxas's hood a tug, making him turn. Roxas looks up at him, keeping his face blank.
"I'm worried about your…attitude problem," he says with a horrid little smirk. "It seems to me that you're starting to become like Axel and Larxene."
Who's to say I haven't always been this way, you nut-job? "Axel is just a nuisance," Roxas says. "And I don't hang out with Larxene."
"Then why do you spend so much time in the library these days?"
Roxas fixes him with his most piercing glare. "I like books. Is that a crime?"
Saïx smiles down at him. Damn him for being taller! "You see? You are of exactly the same breed as Larxene and Axel. Defiant. Irreverent." Saïx begins to circle him, slowly. Rather like a shark. "I hate your breed."
"I'm sorry about that," Roxas says, though he isn't. "If you hate me then why are we having this conversation?"
"You think you're different, don't you?"
Roxas blinks, confused. Saïx rounds in front of him and looks him in the eye. Most people don't like to look others in the eye. Most people don't like to be looked in the eye. Saïx either doesn't care or never learned that particular social norm.
"All this reading you've been doing on the Keyblade," Saïx continues when Roxas doesn't answer. "And your memories, or…lack thereof. Your aloof, defiant demeanor. You believe yourself to be different from the rest of us Nobodies."
"I don't," Roxas says, and his voice comes out soft. It's not that I think I'm different…I just…I just want to understand…why…
Saïx leans close and the space where Roxas's heart should be seems to tighten.
"Denial is unbecoming, Roxas. You do believe it. You believe you're special." Saïx smirks again, that smirk that looks like something you'd see on a fox in a chicken coop. "And you're right, Roxas. You are different. You're not like the rest of us."
"You're wrong," Roxas says sharply. "There's nothing special about me."
"I didn't say special. I said different. I said not like us." Saïx leans into Roxas's ear. "You're a freak."
Something hot stirs in Roxas's belly. His hands ball into fists. An image flashes through his head of one of those fists connecting with Saïx's face.
"You see, a freak knows how to recognize another freak," Saïx whispers. "You're just like me. You're not like them. You'll try to belong here, but you won't. You never will, Roxas. As much as freaks like us try—we never belong. It doesn't matter where we go, who we're with. We never…belong."
Roxas manages to keep his eyes on Saïx's face, though suddenly his insides feel like his heart. Nonexistent.
"Are we done?"
Saïx puts on a smile that you could mistake for being real. Almost. "Absolutely." He pulls away and stands up straight. "We wouldn't want to keep the Superior waiting, would we?"
Roxas doesn't answer. He turns his back on Saïx and hurries off into the empty, silent halls of the castle.
We never…belong.
-------
"We always get the hot places, don't we? You think the Superior is trying to off us? I could understand if it was just me…but you haven't done anything to piss him off. Yet. But really—Agrabah? I like sand, but this is ridiculous." Axel pauses. "So there I was, alone with these three prostitutes, total hotties by the way, all three wearing thongs, and they just—"
"Wait—what?" Roxas blinks, shaking himself back to reality.
Axel grins and pokes Roxas in the head. "Just making sure you were listening. You seem preoccupied."
"Why should I listen to some dumbass talk to himself?" Roxas snaps, shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping away from Axel. He has sand in his boots. This is his first time to Agrabah and already he hates it here.
Axel comes to a stop. "Okay. So who shoved the stick up your ass?"
Roxas glares at him over his shoulder. "Is it physically possible for you to shut up?"
"You've been cranky all morning. Not that you slept last night, I could hear you plodding all around the halls, freaking Bigfoot. Lexaeus is quieter." Axel gives him a sympathetic look. "Is it that time of the month?"
"Just—leave me alone, will you? Can we get this stupid mission over with?" Roxas keeps walking. Axel trots to keep up with him.
"So did something happen on your solo mission last night?"
"I told you, it went fine."
"Then did something happen after your mission last night?"
Roxas comes to a stop, narrowing his eyes as he looks around. "Something's wrong."
"Damn right something's wrong. You're an easy read, Roxas. A bitch ninety percent of the time, only über-bitchy when—"
"No, shut up a second," Roxas says, holding up a hand. "Where is everyone?"
The streets of Agrabah are completely empty. The shutters and doors of the houses are shut tight; all the booths and carts in the bazaar have been abandoned. Roxas knows enough to know street vendors wouldn't just disappear and leave their wares behind. Unless something were very wrong.
Axel finally seems to notice. "This is the bazaar," he says, looking the place over. "It should be packed. I've never seen it this empty."
They stand in silence for a moment, looking every which way. A breeze tosses some sand against the walls of the buildings and whistles through the alleys. There isn't a soul around.
"This stinks of Heartless," Roxas says, calling his weapon to his hand. Axel does the same.
"Hey, Roxas? Is it getting darker, or is it just me?"
Roxas looks skyward. Darkness is spreading across the sky like an angry storm, as if night has decided to ignore the laws of physics. The sun is dimming as Roxas watches.
Axel laughs. "It's like a horror movie. This is the part where we hear some crashing sound down an alley and we freak out and scream like little girls until the innocent little kitty comes running out of a trashcan. And then we relax and then the guy with the chainsaw comes and turns us into hamburger."
As if on cue, there's a loud crack of thunder like a bomb going off from somewhere up ahead. Roxas and Axel look at each other.
"Okay…so not a kitty."
Roxas takes off running, Keyblade in hand.
"Roxas, wait!" Axel calls, chasing him. "You know, the blonde idiot always dies first in the horror movie!"
"This isn't a horror movie, Axel!"
They round a corner and Roxas skids to a stop; Axel almost crashes into him. In the street before them, towering over the buildings, is a monster. It's the largest Heartless Roxas has ever seen, seemingly carved from the darkest night, with long arms and clawed hands and not much in the way of feet. There's a gaping hole in its chest; Roxas can see buildings on the other side. Darkness swirls in a vortex beneath it and Shadow Heartless scuttle around near the monster's drooping hands like tiny, insect-like offspring. Tendrils of darkness like coils of hair wave about the thing's head. Its glowing, yellow eyes are big enough that Roxas could probably fit in one.
Roxas feels Axel's hand on his shoulder.
"You, uh, sure about that?" he asks, his voice like stone.
"What…what the hell…is it?" Roxas breathes. The head is turning their way. The yellow eyes are settling on the two, tiny Nobodies with their tiny weapons. Roxas suddenly feels very insignificant.
And very afraid.
"A Darkside," Axel says shortly, walking past Roxas. "One of the—ah—bigger kinds of Heartless. What one is doing here…I mean, this world was locked."
Roxas stares at the monster Heartless. As he watches it makes a low sound and takes a step toward them. A cluster of Shadows start charging down the street.
"So what do we do?" Roxas asks, holding his Keyblade at the ready.
"We could run away, I suppose. The Superior would understand. Those who fight and run away and all that."
"Go ahead, then" Roxas says, taking a step forward. "Run away."
Roxas charges the Shadow Heartless with a yell. They hit him like a wave, but he plows straight through the mass of darkness, swinging his Keyblade. Several of them dissolve into nothing. He spins once in place and takes out as many more as he can, scattering the rest. The path is clear to Darkside. Roxas runs forward as Darkside aims a massive fist at him and he takes a flying leap. They meet in midair and Roxas slashes once across the monster's hand. Darkside has less give than other Heartless, as if it's made of more than just darkness—Roxas is caught off guard. He spins and lands, feet spread for balance. Darkside makes another low, groaning sound and pulls backward, slowly, very slowly, as if it has all the time in the world.
Shadows swarm up out of the vortex of darkness. Roxas spins, slashing and kicking. Darkside takes a step forward so that it's standing just above him.
The whole world is dark as night now, but then there's a flash of fire. Shadows hiss and vanish as a wave of flame sweeps low over the sand, catching the tendrils of darkness that make up Darkside's feet.
Axel appears next to Roxas, slicing his chakram through two Shadows. Roxas snorts in derision.
"I thought you were running away with your tail between your legs."
"And let you have all the fun?" Axel says with that wicked grin of his. "I think not." He spins his chakrams and looks up at the Heartless high above them. "Go for the hands. I've got some Assassin Nobodies on the way to deal with the smaller ones. Focus on Darkside."
"Yeah, yeah."
At that moment Darkside suddenly quickens, punching downward with the speed of a car on collision course. Axel and Roxas jump apart and the fist comes down between them. Darkness opens up beneath the fist and Shadows crawl out, sliding flat to the sand toward the two Nobodies. Assassins leap up between them and lay into the Shadows, scattering darkness.
Axel throws both chakrams at Darkside's hand, where they spin like wheels of flame, slashing at the wrist and knuckles. Roxas takes a flying leap over the fighting Shadows and Assassins and makes a slicing motion for Darkside's wrist. The Keyblade sinks deep, turning the sand black with spilled darkness.
Darkside extracts its hand from the pool of shadows and sweeps its hand as if to brush Axel and Roxas away. Roxas dives to the side and hits the sand hard, but Axel catches a glancing blow and goes flying. Roxas hears him land with an uff.
"Axel!"
Roxas can't see where Axel landed. He slashes through a Shadow that escaped the Assassins and rushes past Darkside, but then the monster groans and goes down on its knees as if wounded. Roxas stops and looks up at it, confused.
Is it dying? Did we win?
There's a low hum and the hair on Roxas's arms stands up, even under his coat. Roxas takes a step backward.
A blast of dark energy leaves Darkside's chest and splits into orbs of black, all of which shoot straight for Roxas. He jumps out of the way to avoid one, but then the remaining orbs bend in the air, as if homing in on him. He jumps again, again, again and—
—the back of Darkside's hand slaps Roxas away as if he's an annoying fly.
Roxas is thrown backward and collides with a street vendor's abandoned urn. The urn shatters and Roxas rolls head over heels until he comes to a stop against a crate.
For a moment Roxas slumps against the crate, dazed. He shakes his head and tries to get up, but pain shoots through his leg and he lets out a yelp. He looks down to see a shard of the clay urn embedded in his thigh. Roxas's stomach turns over.
He grits his teeth and yanks the shard out, tossing it away. Darkness like black blood is spreading from the wound.
Darkside is advancing on him.
Get up, get up, fight him, get up, you're going to die, get-up-get-up-get-up-get-up!
Roxas braces his arms behind him, trying to push himself up to no avail. Darkside takes a final thundering step and thrusts a hand forward with that sudden, terrible speed, claws outstretched.
No time.
Roxas lifts his Keyblade in feeble defense and his eyes squeeze shut.
There's a sound. Kind of a dull thunk, like stabbing a melon. Roxas waits for the pain, but it doesn't come.
I'm…alive…?
Roxas cracks his eyes open. The first thing he sees is the color red. Which makes no sense, because he's a Nobody, he doesn't bleed red, and then he realizes it's not blood, it's hair, which also makes no sense until he remembers who has hair that color, and that's when the world grinds to a halt.
Axel is standing between Roxas and Darkside. His head is lolling against his chest. Darkside's claws are buried in his back. One claw has pierced all the way through his shoulder.
He isn't moving.
"Oh my God…" Roxas manages. The place where his heart was is caving in on itself. This can't be happening.
Axel coughs once and raises his head. Roxas lets out a gasp, relief flooding his veins. Alive! He's alive!
Axel smirks at Roxas.
"Nope," he says. "Axel. Axel."
Darkside pulls backward and Axel slides off its claws with a groan. He falls to his knees. Darkness spills to the ground and drips from Darkside's claws, vanishing into dust.
"Axel…" Roxas scrambles forward, ignoring the pain in his leg. "Axel!"
"There, see? Not hard to remember. Though 'God,' that's pretty cool too." He winces and clutches his shoulder. "You know, I think that bastard…stabbed me. Do me a favor, go kill it for me."
"But you're…" Roxas doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to think it.
"Don't worry about me," Axel says, his tone sharp. "What the hell, we're not capable of worry. You've got a job to do, shorty."
The ground shakes as Darkside takes another step. It starts to lower itself to its knees again.
Roxas stands and lifts his Keyblade, gritting his teeth against the pain. Darkside fixes its glowing eyes on him and Roxas glares right back, blue against yellow. Darkside makes a groaning sound; there's a low hum.
A blast of dark energy leaves Darkside's chest. Roxas raises his Keyblade, holding it in both hands. The blast streaks toward him.
"Eat this, you bastard!" Roxas yells and swings the Keyblade as if swinging a bat. The weapon connects with the dark energy and the shock nearly breaks Roxas's arms. The blast rockets back, arcing high. Darkside is too slow to dodge. The energy hits it square in the face.
Darkside lets out a dull roar and tumbles backward, dissolving before it even hits the ground. The impact shakes the whole desert; darkness explodes upward and showers back down, disappearing into nothing along with Darkside.
The sun comes back almost immediately and the Shadows flee the stinging rays. The Assassin Nobodies flicker and disappear. A breeze scatters the last particles of darkness and the streets again fall silent.
Roxas heaves a sigh and plants his Keyblade into the ground to hold himself up.
"Hit that one outta the park!" Axel laughs weakly. "Regular Babe Ruth."
Roxas turns himself around to look at Axel. The red-head is slumped against a wall; darkness is falling from him like black sand.
"You idiot," Roxas says, forcing himself to stand up and walk forward. "You idiot!"
Roxas throws the Keyblade down.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" he yells. His leg finally gives out and he falls to the ground, though his glare never leaves Axel's face. "Why would you do something like that?"
Axel gives a weary smile. "I don't know," he says. "I wasn't thinking."
"You never think! You could have…" Roxas trails off and grits his teeth. He looks away furiously. "Why'd you have to go and do something like that? We're Nobodies! We're not supposed to stick our necks out for each other! And why—why me? Why would you do that for a, for a freak like me?"
"A freak?" Axel laughs, then cuts himself off as he winces in pain. "If you're a freak, what does that make me? I'm the guy who just got himself impaled without even knowing what for or why. We're all freaks."
There's still that caving-in feeling, crushing the breath from Roxas's lungs. "Shut up."
"For a guy who just had his ass saved, you're showing an awful lot of gratitude. Hmph. Kids these days, so ungrateful. I could be dying, you know. I just got freaking stabbed, I really could be dy—"
"Shut up!" Roxas snaps, clenching his fists around the sand. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about Axel dying. For some reason, the thought frightens him. Which makes no sense. Not long ago he was sure he didn't give a damn about Axel. And how can someone with no heart feel fear?
But that's what it is: it's fear.
For awhile there's silence, then, "I'm not ungrateful."
Axel grins at Roxas and then drags himself up off the ground. "And I'm not dying." He grips the wall and pulls himself to his feet, wincing the whole time. He looks down at Roxas. "How 'bout you?"
"I'll live," Roxas says, avoiding his gaze.
"So we're okay then," Axel says cheerfully. He grips a stack of crates with one hand and reaches down to Roxas with the other.
Roxas looks at the hand as if confused. Then he takes it and Axel pulls Roxas to his feet.
"Yeah," Roxas answers.
Axel heaves a sigh and slings an arm around Roxas's shoulders. For once Roxas doesn't mind.
"I hate Agrabah and I hate Darksides," Axel says. "Can we go home now?"
Roxas smiles, and for the first time since he woke up in Twilight Town, he laughs. Axel laughs with him.
------------------------------------------
Jeez, it got violent there, didn't it? I really hope that doesn't warrant an M rating; would be kind of sad if it did (F--- you, FCC).
Sorry, Saïx fans. I don't like Saïx, and I imagine torturing everyone else is something he'd do. (What? No, that's not—Don't go there! Do not go there! There is a place that will make your eyes bleed and your brain melt! And I don't have brain bleach on hand! Sheesh, people. -shudders-). I think he's IC though, but feel free to tell me if he isn't. As for Demyx, I'm not trying to paint him as a coward, just the kind of guy who keeps his head down—which is kind of how I pictured him in the game. So I hope he doesn't come off as a coward. He'll have some moments later, don't worry!
And that's Chapter Four. Looks like their friendship is finally starting to blossom!
Feedback is candy for my soul.
(By the way, it's been awhile since I fought a Darkside—if anything's off, please let me know.)
