009: So We Fall
Title: Secrets in the Clock
Prompt: Persist
Word Count: 1544
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom hearts or any of the Final Fantasy/Disney characters/movies therein, though a girl can dream *sigh*
Chapter Summary: "I love my job," is a phrase most everyone will tell themselves. Sometimes that's just a bold-faced lie.
Warnings this chapter: Triggers, implied physical abuse.
"I love my job," a voice intoned. Somehow, Zexion did not think of it as his own.
He stood amidst piles of paper, raking through envelopes and documents that warranted his notice. He had been up early, running errands as he usually did on show day. Make sure this one completed their task; make sure that team is perfectly on schedule-and so on down his rather large checklist. Unfortunately, the hours after found him thigh-deep in more files than usual- which was much more than he cared to think of. There were the standard notes- bill, bill, bill, some inane document- and then there were those.
Thin fingers held a crumpled piece of parchment with a careful grip, aquamarine eyes scanning the sheaf with intent. The paper was old, and obviously so- with a yellowed surface, finite amount of creases and fewer rips and tears. The ink was bone-dry and fading, the paper smudged with years of dust from disuse.
The first time Zexion found one of the aged parchments had been just a few months ago.
He had been confined to his pull-out desk on one of the buses, going through the drawers in an attempt to get them organized. A sack of envelopes- the latest batch at the time- had been squished into the smallest drawer, and he remembered firmly chastising Demyx for his lazy solution of "sorting out" his storage problem. He had been separating the files into contained, neat stacks when he had spotted something sticking out from underneath several of the usual bills. The crinkled paper was colored a pale tan with yellowed blotches that stood out sharply from the rest of the notes in the bag, which were stark white in comparison.
"Ansem's Report 3" was what headed the page. The script was a dull, dark brown, but the full contents of the letter were gracefully looped and orderly. Even then, Zexion knew his appreciation for the neat calligraphy would win over his immediate desire to label the crumpled thing as garbage and nothing more.
As he read, it had all struck him as achingly familiar, but for the life of him Zexion could not remember where he had known the contents before, or what significance the subject held. A large part of himself believed that he should know this, he really should. He should have remembered what these "Reports" were for, who this Ansem was and why the word heartless rang so deeply within him. Of course, there was always the other part which denied everything and dismissed the notion entirely. Still, Zexion always made it a point to keep an eye out for the Reports while sifting through mundane paperwork, lest something.. unsavory should happen. Such as someone else finding the notes in his stead. Somehow, all of him thought that that probability would not end well at all.
A beep from his wristwatch signalled the passing of another hour, and Zexion blinked with a start. He was due to meet with two of the others very soon, though something told him that certain "others" would still be late, regardless of whether Zexion was on time or not. His attention had been resolutely caught, however, and he left the stifling tent, the flaps rustling closed as he went. Even as he walked at a sedate, but slightly harried pace, Zexion's mind was still firmly on the Reports and what they could really mean. Somehow he had the incredible feeling that finding that information was deeply important.
"I love my job." Her words, whispered low, were too quiet to be overheard.
Still, Namine sat, her back to one corner of the tent and fingers fiddling with her greatest pasttime. People flew by in a hurry, so busy with their cues and lives that no one seemed to notice she was even there at all. But Namine noticed them; Namine noticed everything- such as Luxord's unwillingness to wash his mismatched socks.
It was a strange and unwanted practice, especially since one could always find him if they knew what they were smelling for. He'd claimed once that they were his lucky pair, and that he never won without them- but Namine had seen him con fifty bucks from the set-up crew last month, while the socks were oddly absent from his soles. She had later heard his unhappy cries while Demyx snickered in a corner.
Moreover, she knew of Marluxia's obsession with the government- or, really, of foreign governments and the collusions of places he had never been to. Namine had seen the charts and notebooks he took out when no one was there to see. Well, she amended, no one but her. She had sketched him too many times to count, usually with his hair up and frames perched on his nose, dutifully adding things to his books. More than once she wondered what was in them, but she never took a look, despite knowing exactly where his things were kept. Despite their friendship, she was no Roxas, and his meddling tendencies did not rub off on her.. much.
The one time she had given in to his influence was some time in the last year. She had thought it odd when, after a particularly long night, she had dropped onto her bunk in the bus and saw an open bag peeking out from under Larxene's, a bottom bunk just across from hers. She would have left it be, if not for the fact that Roxas had come in just then, and also noticed the bag. His curious nature was usually held underwraps when around most of the others, which she had a feeling had been planned. No one could honestly accuse Roxas of going through their things if they never had reason to believe it was true. Nonetheless, he did pull the bag out from the bunk and, curious herself, Namine took a peek, too. Paperbacks, hardbounds, cassets, CDs, and even a VHS production of Sun Tzu's The Art of War were what filled the bag. Roxas had very quickly put the bag back the way he found it, retreating to his own bunk with a look not unlike that of being creeped out. To be honest, Namine was a little unsettled as well, but there was nothing she really do about what she had seen.
I love my job.
Just then, Axel and Roxas passed her corner, shoving each other and throwing playful banter back and forth, even as Xion followed just a little behind, exasperated smile on her face. Xion's cornflower blues caught her own for a second, and the other girl waved at her before following again. Namine's arm, covered to the wrist in her egg-white muslin, raised to wave back, but the other girl had already gone.
Her arm lowered slowly, kept close to her side as she picked up her pencil again and began to draw. Her fingers moved steadily as she marked the page, book held close and thoughts running. She drew what her eyes were seeing, but even then, her mind was in a place far from there.
Words flew. Things broke, splintered and hurt, but that was how it had always been. She saw hair like the moon and the dark telltale of sun-touched skin, a beauty marred by raging anger. She heard schemes and felt the chills of deception, and in its wake, not-all-phantom wounds throbbed below her skin, even as it turned yellow and blue.
Something streaked across her vision, and Namine flinched as if struck. She recognized the slate-blue hair instantly, though, and she turned to give Zexion a wan smile as she rose to meet him. His eyes locked with hers, an inquiring brow twitching upward.
"Demyx?" It was toned moreso to resignation than questioning. Namine merely shook her head in reply.
As if summoned, Demyx burst through the open flap, dust kicking up from the force of his entry. His eyes searched for all of a second before they glazed over hers to meet Zexion's, and he pushed forward, grabbing a thick cover as he went. His eyes were mildly frantic because he was late late late- but the waiting two only exchanged a quick glance, tired sighs escaping almost as one.
Namine's movements were loose and airy, and her dress swished as she passed to stand in the middle of the room. Zexion appeared at her elbow silently, pausing for only a moment before shifting to leave a space between them. By this time, the tent had become silent with the dull familiarity of vacance, but they were not bothered. Then, Demyx aligned himself with the space, took a breath, closed his eyes and ran- and in the next moment, pale blue became blonde, green turned to blue, and Namine was stuck staring at a carbon copy of one of her friends.
A flurry of steps and a darkly clad Demyx was long gone, and Namine, now positioned firmly behind Zexion, exited the tent. All who passed saw nothing of alarm- and why should they? It was only their loveable water enthusiast, getting ready to join the show. None saw the air around 'Demyx' rippling in place, or Namine as she shadowed Zexion's illusioned form to induce memories of a show that would never really happen.
I love my job, was what they told themselves everyday. But really, they could not hate it more.
End Drabble
A/N: I bring you another during-the-show moment, courtesy of Namine and Zexion, with cameo appearances from Demyx and Roxas. I know that my updates should have technically been closer together since I was on my week-long 'Summer break' roughly... three weeks ago, but life sucks, and the Summer semester sort of crept on me. I've been trying to get everything taken care of for when I move come August to continue my schooling once I graduate, though certain people in my life keep procrastinating on getting things done. My word of advice: Never lie to your significant other and say that you took care of things when you obviously didn't. Big no-no. Mine still hasn't learned that, sadly.
To AlwaysNinja, I'm not sure why no one else has reviewed. I'm beginning to think that my prompts are not as interesting as I had originally hoped... Anyway, I'm two or three 'drabbles' away from finishing the ones that spawned my ideas for this whole thing. To that effect, once I do reach that point I'll most likely have a plan for where I want this little collection to go. I might dedicate my (limited) free time to just get an alternate story going (a full blown chapter story, this time) or else create a sequel for this and continue on a slightly more mature vein of thought. I'll have a clearer plan soon. 'Til then, my only real hope is to see more reviews.