Disclaimer: You all know it by now, but I don't own the characters or the storyline here, just the fic itself. Nomura's the lucky bastard on that one.

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Not That I Care

7

The Lord of Castle Oblivion

Meet the new boss,

Same as the old boss.

--The Who

Axel hates Castle Oblivion. He hates it for its whiteness—the walls, the ceilings, the floors, everything is as white as a lab coat, which is probably where Vexen got the idea. He hates its arctic temperatures. He hates how artificial everything here feels, like a stinging reminder of his own artificiality. Mostly, though, he hates it for its people. Freaking scientists; scientists. Zexion is a smug, smarter-than-thou jackass, Lexaeus has only two topics he opens his mouth about and they are either A, Marluxia, or B, the experiment, Vexen's a dick, and Larxene's a bitch. As for Marluxia himself…well, that's a whole different ballgame. Axel didn't think it was possible for him to hate a place more than he hated the Castle That Never Was, but three days here and he's already sick of it. He wants to set the whole damn place and everyone in it ablaze.

Axel isn't the bitter type—at least, he doesn't think so, not usually. He wonders where all this hatred comes from. It's probably from the general lack of Roxas around this place. At least if Roxas were here, Axel would have someone to gripe to, someone to laugh at the others with, someone on his side. It's like the Organization before they were thirteen all over again. Axel hates it.

And Xemnas, Axel thinks, rolling over in a bed that's like a block of ice. Of course, Xemnas.

He tries not to give it much thought, but sometimes it's unavoidable. It's part of the reason that, once again, he can't sleep. Every time he sees one of the others, he is reminded of what Xemnas told him to do. Every time he tries to sleep, scenarios, questions flood his head. Though everything always leads back to one, simple, core question: What the hell is the Superior planning?

The conversation in the Superior's office comes back to him, despite his valiant attempts to stop it.

"You want me to what?"

The Superior hates repeating himself. "I want you to keep an eye on Number Eleven," he said, as if speaking to a small, stupid child. "Watch his movements, his actions. I have every suspicion that he intends to go against the Organization."

"Ookaaayy…" Axel said, milking the word for all it's worth. "Right, I totally see your logic, Boss. Appoint the guy you think is a traitor to run the giant, hugely important experiment that our futures rest on. Yeah. Makes all the sense in the world."

"My motives are none of your concern, Number Eight. I am asking this of you because I trust you."

"Why?" Axel asked, because, like the appointment of Marluxia as the new boss, this makes absolutely no sense. Axel is probably the least trustworthy person in the whole damn Organization. It's a fact Axel prides himself on.

"Because you are more selfish than anyone here," Xemnas said, and Axel started to think that Xemnas had perhaps lost all semblance of sense. Though there was always that smug little undercurrent, that feeling that Xemnas always—always—knew more than everyone else.

"I don't get it."

"You don't have to. Simply do as I say."

"And if Marly is in fact going to pull a Brutus on us? An eggs benedict?"

"The term is 'Benedict Arnold,' Number Eight, and if he does—you know what to do."

Axel squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in the pillow, trying to shove the memory from his mind.

There's something else, too. Something Axel tries desperately not to think about.

Axel groans and rolls over again, commanding himself to sleep. He gives an almighty shiver and finally sits up. Why, why, why do Nobodies insist on keeping the castles so cold that every morning Axel expects to find snow on the floors? Nobodies can't feel per say, but they can still, well, feel. Though knowing Vexen, the temperatures are probably supposed to "mirror the inner coldness of the Nobody's soul."

Drama queen.

Axel gets reluctantly to his feet, curling his toes against the cold floor (again with the no carpets thing). There is, actually, one place in the castle that's kept heated, and that's the greenhouse behind Marluxia's room. The greenhouse technically wasn't part of the plan, but Marluxia insisted on moving it from the Castle That Never Was.

Axel is rubbing his face with a hand, but he stops as he remembers something.

It was just after they arrived. Vexen was giving them a tour of the place, and at one point, Marluxia came to a stop, which of course forced the others to stop walking.

"Is there any place in the castle that's actually…heated?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not," Vexen answered, in the frosty (ironically enough) tone he'd been using with Marluxia ever since Xemnas named him the boss.

"Fix that," Marluxia said, looking around at the clandestine walls. "I'm going to use the office behind my quarters as a greenhouse; my plants won't survive in this cold."

Zexion stifled a chuckle. Vexen just rolled his eyes and said, under his breath,

"Flower-boy."

It was kind of like watching a lightning strike. Blink and you miss it. Suddenly Marluxia's weapon—a giant scythe, one of the more frightening weapons, despite it's being pink—was in his hand and he had planted the blade into the wall, millimeters from Vexen's neck, pressing the sharp side against Vexen's throat. Vexen went as white as the walls and froze like a rabbit before a wolf. Lexaeus took a step forward, but then thought against it. Even Zexion looked shocked, despite his always acting like nothing really fazes him.

Larxene only smiled.

"If you ever call me flower-boy again," Marluxia said, in a voice Axel had never heard him use, "I will end you."

Vexen swallowed. Axel remembers watching his Adam's apple move up and down. Marluxia leaned in close.

"This isn't the Castle That Never Was," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, and his eyes flicked toward Lexaeus and Zexion. "Around here, I'm the boss. The lord of Castle Oblivion. Around here, you do as I say. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the Superior. I'm sure he'll be utterly delighted to hear your complaints. Is any of this unclear?"

It wasn't. Marluxia pulled his scythe out of the wall and it vanished in a vague puff of darkness. He smiled.

"Now how about that greenhouse?"

It was then that Axel fully understood the orders that Xemnas had given him.

-------

Larxene is reading a book on sadism. How original.

"Getting any good ideas?" Axel asks her. Larxene adjusts herself in the armchair and peeks up over the top of the book, all innocence.

"Oh, yes," she says, with a wicked little smile. "Thought I'd practice on Vexen."

"Good plan," Axel says vaguely, looking off down the shelves of books.

"Whatever are you doing in a library, Axel?" Larxene asks. "Surely you're not going to actually read anything. That would need way too much brain power."

Axel has never been one for books or libraries, but he has a purpose now. There's research to be done, research that matters.

"It's freezing," Axel says, shrugging. "Figured I'd build a fire."

Larxene narrows her gaze. "You so much as try to burn a book and I'll stab your face."

Axel grins. "What's with you and books, anyway? Books don't scream in pain, so where's the fun in them?"

Larxene tilts her head a little, as if considering Axel. She looks down at her book again.

"Books don't care," she says.

Axel stares at her. "They're inanimate objects, you know. They're not capable of caring," he says. He's being difficult. He understands.

"Then books are kind of like us, aren't they?" Larxene says, watching him with an earnest expression. "They're Nothing except what you make of them."

Axel considers her. That's remarkably insightful, for Larxene. Not that Axel really cares.

"Just kidding," Larxene says, and goes back to reading.

Are you? Axel thinks, but decides not to say it aloud. "Know where the books on Keyblades are?"

"Two aisles that way," Larxene says, jerking her head backward. She looks up at Axel again. "Doing research, are you?"

"So to speak," Axel returns. "I want to know more about the connection between Roxas and Sora."

"Such an interesting topic," Larxene says, and she gets a spark in her eye, the spark she gets when she's found a weakness. "Are you worried about him? Little Thirteen?"

Axel glances over his shoulder at her and snorts in what he hopes is realistic derision. He's pretty good at the derision thing.

"Why would I be?"

"Nothing else would make you go to a library," Larxene says, and by now she has set her book aside. "You're buddy-buddy now, aren't you? Who'da thunk it, huh? I mean, you of all people. But then…maybe he reminds you of someone?"

Axel says nothing.

But he doesn't have to. Larxene knows. She gives a little snicker. "I wonder what would happen to Roxas, if he was ever to meet Sora? What do you think, Axel? I mean, Roxas is less of a Nobody than all of us combined. Like that brat upstairs. None of us have Others. Don't you think it's funny—that Xemnas told us not to tell Roxas the truth? I can understand why we can't tell Sora, but Roxas? What do you think that means? What do you think will happen when those two meet?"

She says it as if it's inevitable, and a part of Axel has to agree that it is. They'll meet someday. There won't be any stopping it. They'll be drawn to each other, like two marbles circling a drain. And it'll change Roxas, in one way or another. Roxas won't be interesting anymore.

Axel isn't sure what he'd do if that happened.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Axel says in a controlled voice. Control. With all this flammable paper around, control is a good thing right now. He starts to walk away.

"Don't you think it's also funny…" Larxene says, with the air of someone about to drop a big one. "…that Xemnas wants to use both of them?"

Axel stops.

"That would bring the two closer together, wouldn't it? I find that strange. Especially considering the pains we're taking to make sure they never find out about each other."

Axel looks back at her.

"Sometimes I wonder if the Superior really does have our best interests at heart—so to speak," Larxene says, looking again at her book, casual, so casual.

But Axel knows. Ah, he thinks. Et tu, Larxene?

What a shame.

"You're good, Larx," Axel says, and he starts walking again. But then there's a swoosh and a dark portal opens nearby. Out of it steps Marluxia. He lowers his hood and looks from Larxene to Axel, grinning like a kid who just stole a candy bar.

"Good news, Marluxia?" Larxene asks, suddenly all sugar.

"I've met him," he says, rather breathlessly. "The boy. Sora. He is here."

Larxene sits up straight and Axel stiffens.

Marluxia runs a hand through his hair in a self-satisfied manner. The smug bastard. "He's at the Crossroads," he explains. "I spoke to him, and unless he is completely dense, he will take the hint and come straight here. He'll be here in a day or so."

"How exciting," Larxene says. "We'd better make preparations…hadn't we?"

Marluxia gives her what he probably thinks is a conspiratorial smile. Axel sighs inwardly. There's really no respect for good, old-fashioned intrigue these days.

"You're right," Marluxia answers. He puts his hands on his hips. "Larxene, you inform the others. Axel, tell Naminè to get ready. She probably needs to be fed too; I don't want her crapping out on us."

So much for research. "And you, Mr. Boss-Man?" Axel asks in a weary tone.

Marluxia smiles in a way that would make Saïx proud. He answers—well, not really—with another question. "Have you ever heard of the pitcher plant, Axel?"

"Not big on greenery, sorry. Plants and fire—don't exactly mix, you know."

"Fascinating plant. It uses everything it has to lure its prey—chemicals, colors, even its shape, all are conducive to attracting and catching insects. Once a fly is in its trap, there's no escape. The fly believes it is getting a treat, you see, but in reality…the fly is being slowly digested, consumed by the pitcher plant. Before long it is simply food. Just another part of the flower."

Axel grins. "Sounds like your kind of plant."

"It is," Marluxia answers, and turns away. "Before we know it, our little fly will be just another part of us."

-------

Axel has never actually met Naminè—never even seen her—until now.

She's very small; very young. Her hair is the color of straw. There's something transparent about her that has nothing to do with how she looks—rather, the feeling she gives off, of emptiness. She almost seems to fade into the background of her room, which is pure white, from the tables and chairs to the walls. Even her dress is white. The only things of color are her eyes, which are a sad shade of blue, and the crayon drawings scattered everywhere. She's at work on a new sheet of paper, red crayon in hand, and doesn't even look up when Axel walks in. He stares at her for awhile before speaking.

"Your hero's coming," he says. "Sora's on his way here to rescue you, thinking he's coming to save that other girl—Kairi or whatever. Too bad for him, but lucky for you, huh?"

The crayon hesitates for a split second before continuing over the white paper.

"Yes," Naminè answers in a soft voice.

Axel regards her in silence again. She reminds him of Roxas, somehow. Maybe it's in the knowledge that Naminè, like Roxas, is completely and utterly alone in the world.

"I guess it's okay, though," Axel says, folding his arms. "The princess locked in the castle by the mean old bad guys is supposed to want the hero to rescue her. We all just do what we're supposed to, right?"

Naminè doesn't answer and keeps drawing.

"Anyway, you'd better get ready," Axel goes on. "The others won't be too happy if you screw this up. You don't want to screw it up for yourself, either. Your one and only chance to be Somebody."

"Right," Naminè whispers. "Somebody."

Axel sighs. He waves a hand and a plate of food appears out of a dark portal.

"Eat."

Naminè ignores him. Axel stares at her awhile, wondering what else there is to her, wondering if this small, empty shell is all she is. Eventually he turns and makes to leave.

"Can…can Nobodies really be Somebody?"

Axel looks back at her. Naminè is looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are pale, but they're like Roxas's—there's something there. It's not all emptiness.

"I dunno," Axel answers. "Maybe. I hope so. That's what we're all hoping for, anyway."

Naminè tilts her head. "You're not like Vexen and the others."

Axel allows for a vague smile. "That's right. I'm cooler than all of them."

"What's your name?"

"Axel. Got it memorized?"

"It's not a hard name to remember," Naminè points out.

Axel thinks about it. "Yeah. I guess not."

Naminè gives the faintest of smiles and then goes back to her drawing.

"You know," Axel says, turning away, "for a lab rat, you're pretty interesting."

"Thank you," Naminè says. She pauses, then, "Axel? Will you talk to me again?"

Talk? That was "talk?" Jeez, she must be desperate. Which Axel would pity, if he could.

"If I feel like it," Axel says, because he likes to keep people wondering.

"Naminè, you're unusually chatty today," says a voice, and Marluxia appears out of nowhere. Axel grits his teeth. Naminè ducks her head and Marluxia looks from her to Axel.

"I was wondering why you were taking so long."

"I was just leaving," Axel says, and he does, leaving Naminè alone.

Axel hates this place.

-------

Sora has arrived.

"Well," Larxene says as they watch Marluxia talk to the Keyblade Master and the duck and dog…thing that are with him. "He's certainly as short as our Number Thirteen."

Larxene and Axel are watching from out of sight. The others refused to come out of the labs. Some kind of protest, or something. In any case, Vexen is working on his newest toy and didn't want to be bothered, and the others are monitoring Sora's brainwaves or some such technical bullshit from below.

Not that Axel cares at all. There are more important things.

So, Axel thinks, ignoring Larxene. Sora. Roxas's Other.

It's scary how much he looks like Roxas. Well, they're not identical, but still. Sora's hair is brown, and far poofier than Roxas's, though they've both got the spiky thing going on. His eyes aren't the same laser-sky-blue, not quite. From what Axel has seen and heard already, Sora isn't quite the jaded little asshole that Roxas is. He's optimistic. Cheerful. Everything that Roxas isn't. Everything opposite of Roxas.

So this is the other side of Roxas.

Everything opposite, yes, except their drive. Their determination. Their strength of will, though Axel knows that Naminè is already at work breaking that down for Sora. They're both fighters—Sora's display in the first of the false worlds, based off of Traverse Town, proved that. They're similar. Like fraternal twins.

It's scary.

But how similar? How different?

"Axel? Are you listening?" Larxene says in an indignant tone. He isn't. He doesn't care enough to listen.

As he watches Sora summon his Keyblade, which looks exactly like Roxas's, and give Marluxia that same look that Roxas would give, the laser-glare, the "I'm not gonna lose" glare, Axel remembers the lie he told Roxas, the lie that Axel would talk to Sora, would learn everything for Roxas, in Roxas's place.

It's not like Axel could really tell Roxas anything that he learns about Sora. It's not like Roxas would be happy with anything that Axel tells him, anyway.

Axel tells himself that it's for his own curiosity.

"Axel. What are you doing?"

Axel disappears in a cloud of darkness and reappears near Marluxia. Sora looks startled. From up close he looks even more and yet even less like Roxas.

"Boo," Axel says.

"What do you want?" Marluxia says, obviously pissed about the intrusion.

"I got bored, what with you hogging the hero," Axel says, not taking his eyes off of Sora. Sora is staring at him.

Roxas…

Marluxia snorts a little. "Well then, maybe you'd like to test him."

"Maybe I would," Axel says, his gaze sliding to Marluxia. Marluxia's hood is up, but he takes the hint. He dips his head in a brief nod and disappears. Axel turns back to a confused-looking Sora.

Axel grins.

"Looks like it's my show now, Keyblade Master," he says. "The name's Axel. Commit it to memory."

"Uh…okay."

It's the same confusion, and yet not; the same confusion that Roxas faced him with. Axel hates it. He hates how much Sora reminds him of Roxas, reminds him that Roxas isn't actually real. That Roxas, for how interesting he is, is as ephemeral as a flame.

"Good, the hero learns fast," Axel says. "So, Sora, now we're on a first name basis and all—" The chakrams appear in a puff of flame at his sides. "You'd better not die on me."

Sora raises his Keyblade and his friends move to defend him.

Let's find out, Axel thinks. Let's find out what an Other is made of. Let's find out how much you're like him.

And though Axel won't admit it, he's afraid of the answer.

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Hey guys, Chapter Seven is finally up, how about that? Sorry it took so long, college has been pretty crazy. I hope Eight won't be quite as long in coming as this was, but I'm afraid I can't guarantee anything, except that there will be a Chapter Eight, and Nine, and so on.

I hope this is a half-decent foray into the CoM world. I'm lucky I found the script online, though as you can see I'm not sticking to it verbatim.

About Naminè—I'm not entirely sure what it was like between her and Axel, so this is my interpretation of them, or at least the start of it. I think it makes sense that Axel sees something of a semi-Roxas in Naminè, and therefore someone worth his interest. Especially considering things that happen later…

Anyway, hope this chapter is to your liking!

Feedback is candy for my soul.