Disclaimer: Characters are copyright to Square Enix.

Warning: Rated T. An M rated version is available on my LJ, but please ensure you are old enough to read. Content is deliberately cut for themes of sex, violence and scenes that might be disturbing. f

A/N: I'm back after my month of hellish novel writing! The last section cuts off quite randomly because there's actually a yaoi scene there.

BONE OF CONTENTION

ISA, THE BOY WHO'D SHATTER

- eleven years before death -

I was, in all honesty, expecting the family from hell when I first came over your house. I had listened to countless tales about your mother's complaining and your father's disappointment in you, and had drawn up in my mind a picture of your household, but only with the colours you had given me. My perception turned out to be grossly inaccurate.

Your mother had stress worn into her face, yet when we walked through the front door, she looked at me, smiled and said, "You must be Isa. Lea doesn't shut up about you." And her hand grazed the top of your head as you passed. Your younger sister was – true to your word – slightly irritating and pestering, but I appreciated her attention all the same. She, like you, found my disease to be the 'selling point' to me, and asked, before even introducing herself, how I knew the difference between a hairline fracture and a proper break.

"Elenar, shut up," you said. "Sorry," you added to me. "Hey, you want to see the rabbit, right?"

"Is that okay?" I set my bags down in the hallway, covering a wince from the strain with a quick smile.

"Sure! Why are you still here?" You turned to Elenar and gave her a small nudge. "Don't you have homework?"

"It's a Friday. Anyway, it's my house too. I can do what I like. Hazel's in the conservatory, Isa." Elenar pointed past the kitchen to a half glassed door. "She really smells. Probably about as much as you do." She gave you a shove and you shoved her back, and there might have been a quick swearword under your breath too.

For all your complaints about your family, I wasn't sure you meant half the things you said. I detected no true hostilities, just comfort, really. You would have argued that I was so without a family, I would have given anything to be in your position – to have siblings and expectations, to still have a mother to scold me.

"Here you go. I warn you, she's heavy." You slid open the hutch door and the rabbit crept forwards into your hands. "Bunnymoon, meet Isa."

You eased the rabbit into my arms. I cradled her against my chest, afraid of dropping her. "Bunnymoon?" I repeated, and Elenar rolled her eyes, tucking back a strand of blonde hair.

"He changed her name. Mum named her Hazel – because of her colour, obviously – but since Lea looks after the rabbit most of the time, he thinks he can rename her to—"

"Bunnymoon," you said triumphantly. "For your information, she still bites you, whatever she's called. Now go away, Isa's not here to see you."

Elenar scowled, gave you one last weak push and then flounced off. You began to stroke the top of Bunnymoon's head, and when your fingers accidentally grazed my collarbone, my heart rate grew so fast that I forgot for a second that I was supposed to breathe.

"You're a fat rabbit, and you're lazy to boot," you exclaimed, and grinned up at me. "She's kept in her hutch unless I'm home, and then she stays with me. She prefers being with me. Everyone else just ignores her or complains about her being germy. So anyway, I bet you're wondering how Bunnymoon got her name?" You didn't give me time to answer. "Well, I read somewhere that if you look at the full moon, you can kinda see the shape of a bunny in it. I was wondering if we could use that telescope of yours and try and find it tonight? You okay?"

I shifted Bunnymoon higher against me, grinning a second too late; but there was no way I was going to tell you that for one bizarre moment, I found myself relating to your pet rabbit more than anything or anyone else in the world.

-x-

On the first day of spring, where I could feel the warmth of morning sun long before I actually saw it, I woke up with a feeling of dread in my stomach. I sat up in bed and began my normal routine of persuading my stiff muscles to work, but I was not quite able to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. I swung my legs out of bed and announced to no one in particular, that today I was going to break my femur, ulna, four ribs and my wrist.

-x-

My mother had been a clairvoyant. She had been able to develop her psychic links to the point that premonitions came to her pretty much every day. Her most favourite premonition was from twelve years ago, when she did the final stitch to her embroidery and just knew that she'd have a baby boy and her life would be complete. She told me it often and it was, second to her embrace, the most effective way to cheer me up.

On the night she died, I came to the conclusion that all of her talent and accomplishment with the psychic force had been transferred to me. That I had her ability eased my grief somewhat, but you were the only person I could talk to about it.

"That's so cool," you said fervently, when I nervously admitted today that I had had another premonition of sorts, the way my mother had always done.

"You think it's cool?" I said, a little grumpy. "Aren't you going to ask why my mother didn't predict her falling down some stairs and dying?"

You gave me a disapproving look, which wasn't too far off your father's default expression. "I wouldn't say anything like that, that's horrible. But what's the premonition? Oh! It's my history test tomorrow, isn't it? Tell me I pass it!" You put your palms together and apparently addressed the heavens. "Please, please, make me pa—ow!" You crashed into the side of a half wall.

The prayer sounded a little strange coming from a class ace like you, but I knew you were on rocky grounds with your father at the moment. You kept missing lessons and going to sleep in class; you had argued with him that so long as you got good grades, what did it matter? But he continued to grill you because the principle was what you were failing to understand, and I rather agreed with him.

"Did you turn up to all your lessons today?" I asked you. We were walking back on a wordless agreement to stay round yours tonight.

"Missed the first two," you admitted. "I used the time wisely, though, honest. Trained up on the tracks. I'm getting myself ready. Spring is the season for sports tryouts, and I'm going to try and get into as many athletic teams as possible. I'll get into javelin, no problem, but I also want to do discus, the sprint, hammer throw, the relay, high jump, long jump, maybe the hurdles if I have time."

"That's like…every event possible," I said, though I had no doubt that you would ace all of them.

"Yeah. I was only in four teams last year, so I'm going to try and get into all eight this year." You laughed happily, and a few passing students gave you a look, perhaps to scoff at your ambitions or perhaps like me, to wonder how it was possible to laugh so freely, it was as though you were immune to hurt.

"So I guess you can't come round mine much," I checked with you.

"Well, I'll need to train for the tryouts, and then train for the actual events when I get picked for the team." You poked my ribs, and it was all you needed to do to work a smile out of me. "You can come along too. There's loads of seats in the stands and you can watch and cheer me on and who knows, maybe even wave a banner with my name on it."

You laughed again and this time, I joined in. I was looking forward to spring already. I was so certain that it'd be great and fun and it'd propel us both into a perfect summer. I had nothing but my respect and admiration for your talent in sports. I had seen you run, so often, so elegantly. Whether you were tearing down the school playground to the gates or leaping over an empty crate like you were hurdling, you made it look like the most natural thing a person could do. Sometimes, I was utterly convinced that your feet didn't touch the ground, that the wind lifted you and the rest of the world shaped itself and dimmed around you, to better accentuate the graceful arc of your grin.

"I'd love to come along."

"Then we'll do that. Oh! And by the way, we're going to hit the beach this summer. What do you think? My parents can take us, and my mum says that you can come along if you like. We own a beach house."

"You own—?" I spluttered. "Like a second home?"

"Exactly. Not as fun as it sounds, though. If I leave something there, I have to wait until next year to get it back." You hopped down a set of stone steps, while I opted to use the ramp adjacent to it. "Hey. Do you want one?"

You pointed, and I followed your finger, filtering through the crowd of students after school, who typically hit this promenade in spring because of the flourishing cherry blossoms and the way it attracted the sunlight to stream in through the cottony layers of pink. "Want what?"

"An ice cream, duh!" you cried. "Everyone's queuing up to get one. Once it hits spring, we all eat nothing but ice cream. Wait here, okay? I'll buy you one."

You tossed your schoolbag into a shrubbery patch that was enclosed by a half wall, and I shifted to lean against it. I watched you push through the queue, heard you shout, "'Scuse me, sorry! I've got the right amount of change, I'll only take a sec—" and I felt every muscle in my body relax with contentment.

I would never have ventured outdoors, were it not for you. I never would have grown out of my resentment, were it not for you. But, you would argue for years to come, the accident would never have happened, were it not for you.

"Hi!" Elenar waved at me when I spotted her passing, accompanied by your eldest sister. They both smiled at me and for the first time, I felt truly welcome in the environment that had typically overlooked me. I stepped forwards to talk to Elenar, just as you tore across the road with two ice creams in your hand, just as a boy powered a bicycle down the long stretch of cobbles and hollered at you to get out of the way.

"Lea!" your sisters screamed, and the bicycle's front wheel wobbled as he veered out of your way – and into mine. I remember outstretching my hands, not to protect myself, but to reach for you.

The bicycle hit me and either it or its owner smashed four of my left ribs, long before I could comprehend. I was blasted backwards as though what had hit me had been a cannonball, not the flimsy handle of a cheap bicycle that needed to be oiled. But I was light, caught by surprise, too busy searching for you to consider darting out of the way. And I had a bone disease.

That's right, I thought to myself as I soared through the air. I have a bone disease. I shouldn't be having ice cream on the promenade like everyone else.

I remembered that the promenade dropped to another level behind me, cutting down the hill with a set of steps that led to a second path parallel to the canal. I wondered if I was going to go so far that I'd land in the water, and I actually smiled when I felt the wind course through my hair and shirt sleeves and the pink clouds of cherry blossom were so close I could nearly touch them. I thought to myself that this incredible sensation of complete freedom, must be what you felt every time you jumped.

"Isa!" You were screaming, racing for the finish line before I could hit it. I landed with a crash and there went my femur with a resounding crack; the bicycle landed on top of me, and there went my ulna as I threw out my right arm to shield my face.

"Isa! Isa! Oh god, Isa…!" You did a long jump down the stairs, hurdled over the bicycle, seized my hand in a bid to stop me from tumbling any further – and there went my wrist. You felt it crumble in your grip and with a shuddering yelp of horror, you let go.

Isn't it funny how so much of Radiant Garden is a bed of grass and warm earth, I wanted to tell you and of all places to land, I picked the razor edges of concrete, channelling my mother in the same accident that killed her.

I couldn't talk, though. I was rendered speechless by the pain and with the circle of faces around me so blurry, I didn't know where you were. I heard voices, but none of them were yours. I felt a hand on my shoulder, right before I passed out, but that wasn't you either. I decided that you were, like me, saying goodbye to the perfect summer.

SAÏX, THE LUNA DIVINER

- eleven days after birth -

When I'm not with you, I spend my time thinking about you instead. It's a poor substitute, but the Organisation knows that I'll just hold you back otherwise, the same way I've always have.

"Tell me what you mean by that," the Superior says when I admit this inadequacy.

"…I don't think I'll be as good as him. Even with a weapon and my element assigned, I won't be able to compare." I lean forwards to watch you, comfortable with my position as spectator. They think they are training you, but you're just showing off, really. You didn't learn your grace from them; you had it right from the start. They haven't seen the shapes you traced in the air from our childhood, how effortless you made it seem, how easily you could convince me into thinking I had done the same.

"What will happen to me, Sir? If I carry on this way, will you arrange for me to be 'Dusked'?"

It's something the was only mentioned in passing, but the Superior's ability extending to decide our fate hardly requires much extrapolation on my part. He mentors me more than Vexen does now, and his control over the Castle is evident. I have seen Dusks slink away from him respectfully and fulfil his wordless orders. Even Xigbar, who never misses a moment to dig at me and play jokes at the expense of others, is dutiful and humble towards the Superior. I wouldn't put it down as a recognition in fear or of his power, but more an appreciative gesture. It's almost as if in one way or another, he's indirectly saved us all.

"You won't be punished or asked to leave," the Superior opts to answer my question. "We are far too understaffed to consider that. You are just stubborn in comparison to everyone else. Isa had a life he never wanted to give up, clearly."

"What does that mean? That the rest of you did give up your lives?"

"In a way." The Superior turns his back on the training ground and beckons for me to follow him. I give you one last glance, hearing the tremendous whirr of a chakram spinning through fire, and then obey. "We accomplished what we wanted to accomplish, and it seemed the most sensible route to take."

"To die?"

"In a way," he says again. "I prefer to call it a submission to something unavoidable. It seems to me that you met your end before you were willing to, which, given your selective amnesia, means that this is knowledge only held by Axel."

I glance up at him, noting the way his eyes tend to narrow a millimetre or two when he mentions you. "Sir, I don't think we have much of a choice in when we get to die."

One corner of his mouth twitches in vague acknowledgment of my naivety. "No, Saix," he replies, his voice light and his fingers grazing my upper arm as he coerces me into the Grey Area, "we definitely had a choice."

His strides lengthen and he walks to the window, and I think he's going there just to admire the view, but Xigbar portals to appear next to him.

"You rang?" he says flatly. His yellow gaze rests on me like a vulture spotting a carcass. "Does he follow you?" he asks in an undertone, but I hear him anyway. "Or do you command him to?"

The Superior glances out the floor length window. "Actually, he's here because of you. You're right. There are a lot of Heartless at the Castle's base. You may take Saix with you and try again."

Xigbar pulls a face, one that's torn between horror and amusement. He taps one foot, channelling his annoyance into that gesture. "Well Sir…with all due respect, I recalled I asked for a partner, not a hindrance."

"Saix is the only one available. The others are preoccupied with Axel and trying to curb his element."

Xigbar snorts. "You're doing this to spite me. You know, you're free at the moment."

"The sooner Saix is trained, the sooner he can accompany me to Hollow Bastion." The Superior brushes Xigbar away from him and approaches me, and I feel a little lost in this strange company. Perhaps if I wasn't so weak, I would be allowed to stay and train with you.

"You're not weak." The Superior interprets my look correctly. It's a little unnerving, since I don't recall ever changing expression. "Just conflicted. I find," he says carefully, ignoring Xigbar as he tries to interrupt, "that it's a tad easier to cope if you have an anchor of sorts. Something to do, something to keep you occupied, something that will ground you and serve as a reminder that even if it's underserved, we still have the privilege to do what we like."

"An anchor?"

"Mm. Just a way to kill time. A purpose, if you like. Think about it." He gives me a tiny nudge, the tips of his fingers touching the semicircle of my coat chain, and then Xigbar draws up a portal with a scowl.

"Come on then," he sighs. "Come and watch me get slaughtered."

"Maybe Xigbar's right," I start, but the Superior silences my protests with a single, expressionless look.

"No, he's not. Go and assist him, Saix." He lifts up my hood and gestures to the portal. Then, he returns to the window, summons an ornate white armchair and sinks into it, back turned to me.

-x-

"I don't suppose you have a clue in what's happening to you, do you?" Xigbar grumbles, when I arrive next to him and seemingly insult him just by being here. "The Superior's always been a bit insane, but now he's really outdone himself. Hollow Bastion, my arse. Even I haven't been sent on a mission to Hollow Bastion, not with him anyway, but he has plans for you. Apparently, there's more to you than that doe eyed expression of yours."

"I'm not doe eyed," I answer hotly, and then ask, a little less passionate, "but I don't really know how I'm supposed to help you on this mission."

"Well, I'm stumped too, if that's any reassurance." Xigbar spins his arrowguns round his wrists, shrugging. "It's probably just punishment because I complained about my assigned mission while doing a half-arsed job on it. Still, I can handle things at a long range. It's when they get close that I require some backup, but since that backup's you, I might as well go surrender now."

I roll my eyes, rather cross with the Superior for putting me up to this. It's easy enough to tell me to ground myself, but how I'm supposed to go about it is something he's conveniently missed.

Our mission is to tame the population of Neoshadows outside the Castle, and there are quite a fair number of them. I decide that you would have no problem in accomplishing such a mission. Things would be so much easier if I just asked you to do it.

Then, I realise that that's my life in a nutshell.

"Wake up, Saix. I need you to do something at least, because I'm not going to rescue you." Xigbar jabs me with one of his guns. "Why not pick up a crate and throw it at them? That might work."

"All right." I push my hood back, hoping it will improve my vision, but the alley is dark and cloaked in fierce rain. The only sources of light are from two neon lights above and each bullet that Xigbar fires.

I don't remember much of my life, but I know that you played an integral part in its quality and, quite possibly, in its end. I can't do anything without you. This is why I can't function. My life support is gone, I'm wavering because of it, it's so simple that it's no wonder why I overlooked it. Every atom of conflict can be rooted, can be calmed, if I just remember that my purpose is you. You're my anchor, what I'm supposed to be going back to.

Slowly, I drop the crate in my hands, just as Xigbar hollers for me to cooperate. Then, I rush forwards to strike the Neoshadows at close range, not even sure of what I'm doing, but something silver tears through them. I do a hairpin turn and strike again, and it's so easy. I skid through the puddles and cut circles like the air around me is a cloth and I'm a blade.

"Saix, that's enough."

Xigbar calls, perhaps a minute in, perhaps an hour in. When I hear that name being called, I falter and stop in my tracks. I realise that I'm gripping a handle, but when I glance down, my weapon dematerialises before I can see it.

"…How did you do that?" Xigbar asks. He upturns the crate and sits on it to catch his breath. "What were you thinking about?"

"Lea," I admit, unabashed. "Axel, I mean. He advised that I avoid conflict and take a side. The Superior too, said I need an anchor of sorts—"

"Saix, let me put a bit of perspective on that." Xigbar scratches his head, twisting his mouth into a patronising smile. "When I was eleven days old and still trying to get my head round things, I discovered that hunting Heartless was a great way to curb my frustration with who I was. Vexen prefers to indulge himself in the sciences. Zexion reads. Lexaeus and Xaldin do weight lifting. We do these sorts of things to remind us what it was like to be human. They make us remember what we're working towards. Our anchors were never another person."

He laughs at the mere thought of it. "It's pretty dangerous to depend on a person, don't you think? Not a sensible thing to do. Who knows, maybe that was the mistake you made when you were alive. Put all your eggs in one basket."

I cross my arms, shivering a little in the cold. "Well, either way, I summoned my weapon, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did, and that's a step backwards, Seven. You've just proven that you're geared to depend on someone. The Superior obviously knew that – hey, maybe it's the fact that you gawk after Axel all the time that got you rumbled? You're in a bit of a fix now, eh? The Superior's not going to settle for Axel taking complete command of you, is he? If you're going to chuck your eggs in a basket, it'll be his, surely."

"Are you finished?" I opt to answer. "You're completely wrong, by the way, on all counts."

"You're like…" Xigbar snaps his fingers a few times, grasping for the right words. "You're like a bone of contention. Their point of argument. Axel and the Superior are dogs and they're fighting over a bone: you."

-x-

"Biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard."

"Do you think?"

We stay up together, watching the perpetual night above our heads. You rest your hands on the wall, your arms forming a perfect V round my sitting form. If you push forwards, I'll topple over this balcony and go down and down and finally crash and in all likelihood, meet the hungry mouths of Neoshadows.

"Yeah, I think," you say to me firmly, and I realise that I have been worrying about nothing. "You would be a bone of contention between us, if I haven't already won. You've picked your side, haven't you?"

"Mm," I murmur. I'm not too sure, really. Saix feels more natural and the Superior is kind; it hurts to be Isa, like squeezing into shrunken clothes, but keeping Isa means I get to keep you. The pain is worth it.

"The Organisation just wants to use us."

"I know," I admit. "Xigbar even said the Superior has plans for me."

"Nothing dodgy about that," you remark, and I feel your eyebrows lift in a cynical gesture, before you claim my lips again in a swift move of experience and fluidity. You tug the zip of my coat. "You wouldn't understand, because you've never been in my position, but I can see why people would fight over you."

"That's bullshit," I say into your rain soaked hair. I pull off my glove to better appreciate you. Your hair is spikier, coarser, more familiar than mine. The markings under your eyes are still a mystery, but I find them irresistible to taste, half convinced that they'll mark me too. You work your way south, left fingers closed around my zip, right fingers tracing a line of rain down my skin.

"It's not bullshit. I'm nothing without you, Isa."

"I know," I reply, "and I'm nothing without you."

"Lea," you prompt.

"Lea."

A/N: Another difficult chapter to churn out, mainly because I need to somehow work in a time skip at some point. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is greatly appreciated as usual and many thanks to reviewers and readers of the previous chapter :)