I decided to make this chapter a bit longer in exchange for your guys' patience at my near-constant late updates. ^^ Still, sorry about the wait…
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.
I only own this story. Enjoy!
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After her training with Roxas, Naminé had been able to keep pace with Xion during Mr. Wallace's morning calisthenics. Artist and traceuse alike were hands down the strongest and fastest among the sixth floor.
But today, Naminé was barely able to keep pace with the slowest girls; her normally graceful strides were more like drunken stumbling; and she could barely keep herself from just oozing to the floor in an unconscious heap. The two hour class seemed more like two days by the time Mr. Wallace allowed the girls back to their dorms.
"Naminé, are you okay?" Xion asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm fine," the blonde mumbled, staggering to her feet. "I…I just didn't sleep well last night."
"Why?"
"Nightmare…"
"Oh…" Xion sighed. "Well, I'm sorry."
Naminé shook her head. "S'not your fault," the blonde slurred, rubbing her eyes. "I saw Seifer kill Roxas and then I woke up."
The brunette's eyes widened. "Holy crap…"
"I remember somebody hugging me when I woke up," Naminé recalled, flopping onto her bunk. It was all she could do to not just fall asleep right then and there. "He looked kind of familiar, actually."
Xion's jaw was slack with horror.
"You're saying a guy was inside our room in the middle of the night?"
The artist froze as the horror of what she'd just said sank into her sleep-deprived brain.
"OH MY GOD!"
"AGHHH!"
"AGHHH!"
"AGHHH!"
Both of them ran around in circles, screaming at the top of their lungs, until finally the door burst open and Yuna stepped inside, brandishing a chair.
"Naminé, Xion, what's wrong?" the older girl shouted, glaring around the room.
The blonde had completely forgotten her exhaustion. "A guy broke into our room yesterday night!"
Yuna raised an eyebrow and lowered her bludgeon. "Why would a guy break into your room at night? Wouldn't they've been asleep by then?"
"How should we know?" Xion demanded. The traceuse turned to Naminé. "Do you remember what he looked like, Naminé?"
Naminé scratched her head. "I remember him having blond spiky hair…and blue eyes…and tanned skin…"
Steam was practically shooting out of Yuna's ears. "Tidus, you two-timing bastard," the heterochromatic growled, gripping the leg of her chair tightly enough to crack the wood slightly. "I'm going to rip your BALLS off, you ass!"
Having said thus, the older girl stormed out with murder in her mismatched eyes.
"I-I was going to say that he looked kind of like R-Roxas," Naminé whimpered, wide-eyed with fear.
And then Xion's eyes were blazing with fury, too. "Roxas, huh?" the traceuse snarled, cracking her knuckles. "Then I wish you'd woken me up last night, Naminé. I need to teach that moron friend of mine a lesson in treating his girlfriend right."
"Don't kill him. Please?"
"Relax Naminé, I'm not going to kill him. I'm just going to cut off his legs so he can't run away anymore."
A single bead of sweat slid down the back of Naminé's head.
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She tried to remember how long it had been since the Formal—counted, in total, sixteen days. Funny; it had seemed more like sixteen weeks than sixteen days.
So, so far he hadn't shown up for class for over two weeks. Ms. Lockhart hadn't stopped asking his name during roll call, but Naminé had almost gotten used to him not being here and the snickers and whispers from her fellow students that invariably resulted.
And then she walked into Room 11 and froze in her tracks.
There he was, silhouetted against the sunlight streaming through the window. He was sitting at the desk behind hers, as usual.
As usual. How long had it been 'as usual' for her?
What was she supposed to be? What was she supposed to feel? Angry at him for avoiding her for the past two weeks? Scared of confronting him? Nervous about how she'd talk to him? Sad for what he'd put her through? Happy that he had come back?
It shook her when she realized that she'd thought of being happy the last.
She was jolted out of her reverie when somebody gently moved her out of the doorway. The boy murmured a quiet apology before heading to his seat.
Naminé finally went to her desk when everybody else had streamed through the door and to theirs. She could feel the stares burning into her back as she sat down.
Roxas did not look up when she turned around to face him, nor did he blink when she tried to make eye contact with him.
"Good morning, Roxas," she whispered, and she turned back around as Ms. Lockhart picked up her clipboard.
"Merrill."
"Present."
"Miyamoto."
"Present."
"Perry."
"Present."
"Sanders."
"Present."
"Simpson."
"Present."
"T—"
And then Roxas lifted his head. "—Takahashi, present," he said softly.
Takahashi, present.
Twenty-two heads slowly turned around to stare at the traceur, who returned his gaze to his desk. Naminé shrank down into her chair, fidgeting as she felt the eyes of her classmates drifting to her next, but she was thankful that there were no whispers.
Ms. Lockhart raised an eyebrow and erased something from her clipboard. "Mr. Takahashi, could you please come here after classes end? I need to speak with you about your attendance."
"Yes, Ms. Lockhart," he said tonelessly.
Yes, Ms. Lockhart.
He'd spoken twice now; let her hear him again for the first time in sixteen days. Naminé had never thought that she could ever get so hung up over a boy, and yet here she was mentally repeating his words over and over and over.
She giggled. That was so pathetic of her…
"Why are you laughing?"
The blonde whirled around in surprise, but then she realized that the question had come from the girl next to her.
"Nothing," she replied, a bit disappointed that he hadn't...
Roxas didn't move.
"Now class," Ms. Lockhart began, rising from her desk and moving to the whiteboard. "Today we're going to start the novel…"
She glanced behind her and saw that Roxas still hadn't moved from his position.
This is going to be a long two hours…
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RIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNG!
"AHHH—!" Naminé wildly looked around for the snarling, clawing xenomorph chasing after her before she realized that she was in the empty classroom. She'd…she'd fallen asleep, hadn't she? "I should never have agreed to watch Aliens with Riku…"
Speaking of Riku, where was her brother? Didn't he have the same classes as she did?
Ms. Lockhart looked up and smirked. "Miss Miyamoto, class is over."
Oh crap, she was going to be late for second period!
The blonde quickly tossed her pencils and papers into her messenger bag—she could organize them during Period 2—and made a mad dash for the door—
"Naminé?"
He was staring at her as he spoke. Why was he still here?
She halted and nervously turned around to face him. "Y-Yeah?" she stuttered, doing her very best to not fall into those lapis pools…
"You forgot your eraser," he said, holding out the stubby pink block in his hand.
Oh…
For a second, disappointment that he'd only seen fit to talk to her over an eraser coursed through Naminé, but then she realized that hey at least he'd said something to her.
"Thanks," she smiled, taking the eraser and tossing it into her bag. "See you next period, Roxas!"
"Yeah," he murmured. "See you, Naminé."
And then he grabbed his own bag and jumped out the window. Naminé rushed to the sill and poked her head out, watching as the traceur gracefully move down the side of the tower like a spider, falling and catching himself from window to window, descending a floor with each drop.
He was so fast…
She shook herself out of her trance; a quick glance at the clock told her she had two minutes to get to Trigonometry class, and Period 2 English students were already pouring inside Room 11. There was only one thing she could do…
Ms. Lockhart must've realized what she was intending, because even as Naminé took two steps back, the English teacher shouted for her to stop—
Too late.
Naminé charged, a crazy grin playing at her lips, and vaulted over the windowsill, keeping a hand on the edge and spinning her entire body on her wrist to keep from falling fifty feet to the lawn below. The blonde used her other hand to catch herself from slamming into the wall, before bracing and letting go to fall towards a window she knew was directly below.
Unfortunately she'd forgotten that the window was two, not one, floors below. The artist bit back a scream of agony as her arms jerked to a stop, nearly tearing themselves out of their sockets.
"Motherfucker—!"
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid idea…
She gently lowered herself to the sill, shuddering with the pain. "Dammit," she gasped, carefully rotating herself so that she could perch on the edge of the casement. "Holy fuck, that hurts…"
Her right shoulder had mostly calmed down, but her left shoulder was still hurting like crazy. She really hoped she hadn't dislocated it…
And then she shifted it.
"AGH!"
How nobody had seen her yet, Naminé didn't know. What she did know was that she had a crippled limb and no way to get back inside. Where was Vanitas when you needed him…?
The window squeaked open.
"How the hell did you get here?"
If she hadn't had her back pressed up against the window so hard Naminé was afraid she'd crack the glass, the artist would've fallen to her untimely death right then and there. And then recognition and relief replaced the sudden shock.
"Axel!"
The redhead set his hands on his hips. "Naminé? How'd you get up here?" he demanded. "And you're late for second period!"
"I was going to be late if I took the elevator," Naminé replied defensively. "So I decide to climb down the tower. I mean, it seemed really fast…"
He raised an eyebrow. "What you just tried to do was something only an idiot like Roxas would try," he remarked. "You saw him today, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," Naminé replied, suddenly very aware that she was still rather high up in the air. "And, umm, could I…?"
Axel's green eyes narrowed, but he wordlessly pulled her in. She let out a sharp hiss as her left shoulder shifted again.
"Ow!"
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I think I dislocated my shoulder…"
The teacher, a green-haired, pleasant-looking woman, bustled up. "Mr. Heartilly, who is this girl?" she asked. If she was surprised by 'Mr. Heartilly' seemingly pulling a petite blonde girl out of thin air, she didn't show it.
"A friend of mine," Axel said, glaring at Naminé out of the corner of his eye. "She injured herself climbing down the tower."
"Oh my," the teacher sighed, shaking her head. "Alright, Mr. Heartilly, could you please escort her to the medical wing and then to her second period class?"
"Yes, Ms. Branford," Axel replied.
"Who's your second period teacher, Miss Miyamoto?" Ms. Branford asked.
"Mr. Leonhart, Ms. Branford."
The teacher smiled. "Leonhart, eh?" Ms. Branford remarked. "I'll tell him to excuse you, Miss Miyamoto, but could you tell him"—the teacher leaned in and her voice became a conspiratorial whisper—"that she does like him back?"
Naminé was a bit confused by the strange message, but she nodded her affirmation anyways.
"Thank you, dear," Ms. Branford smiled, straightening. "You two had best be on your way now."
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To his credit, Axel waited until they were in the elevator before he started interrogating Naminé.
"You say you saw Roxas today?" he asked tersely.
"Y-yes…"
The questions began flying as fast as machine-gun fire.
"When and where?"
"First period, English class. Lockhart."
"Did he say anything?"
"He just said that he was present when Ms. Lockhart skipped over him during roll call. He also told me that I'd forgotten my eraser."
"That's it?" Axel's bright green eyes were sharp with suspicion.
"Yes."
"What'd he do?"
"He kept his head down the entire class and he jumped out the window and climbed down the building after class."
He sighed. "Anything else…?"
"No…" Naminé mumbled. "I'm sorry…"
"Nah, it's not your fault," Axel chuckled, setting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Then his face contorted into the same deranged snarl Xion had had when Naminé told her that somebody resembling Roxas had snuck into their room. "Who's really at fault here is Roxas…"
"Don't kill him," Naminé said automatically.
Axel pouted. "I'm not going to kill him—"
"And you can't cut his legs off, either."
"I wasn't going to do that. Where the heck did you get that idea from?"
"Really?" Naminé asked, her eyes brightening a little. "Because Xion said that that's what's she's going to do when she catches Roxas."
"Xion is a violent, bloodthirsty girl. I, on the other hand, am just going to give him a good talking-to," Axel growled, clenching his fists. Naminé squeaked as his fingers dug painfully into her arm, but he didn't notice. "That lousy no-good shit-for-brains dumb blond best friend of mine…"
"You sound like you're not going to let him live," Naminé said, trying fruitlessly to pry Axel's hand off her shoulder. "Judging by all those insults, I mean."
"You'd be surprised at what you can live through."
"I thought you said you wouldn't kill him!"
"Yeah, well, I never said I wouldn't grievously injure him."
"Well, you can't do that, either."
"Why not?"
"Because…because…" Naminé was frantically searching for a reason that would actually persuade Axel. Her arm was becoming numb. "Because he's my boyfriend, and only I get to touch him!"
Axel sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Naminé," he began, releasing her shoulder. "With the way he's treated you these past two weeks…do you really believe he still considers you his girlfriend?"
She flinched.
"I don't mean to hurt you, but…" Axel hesitated. "Roxas is a bit…tough to form a relationship with. This isn't the first time he's run away from a girlfriend, and he broke up with every single one of them in the end. All of them got their hearts broken."
"If you knew that then why didn't you stop me from falling…in…in…" Her voice cracked. She couldn't say it.
"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Axel inquired in a soft tone.
The expression on her face made it clear to all exactly what her response would be.
"Damn…what the heck do you see in him?" the redhead remarked, shaking his head. "Anyways, to answer your question, we didn't warn you from forming a relationship with him because, well, to be honest we think—hell, we know that he's fallen for you harder than he's ever fallen before. Personally, I don't know if his feelings are really as strong as love, but I do know that you've done more for him than anybody else."
"What do you mean, I've done more for him than anyone else?" Naminé asked.
"Have you ever seen the real Roxas?" Axel whispered. "Not the calm and cool exterior he keeps up around everybody, the real him."
She had no idea what the supposedly 'real Roxas' was like. "No…at least, I don't think so…"
It took her a moment to realize that Axel was laughing.
"Girl, you really have no idea, do you?" the redhead smirked. "Roxas is always the real him whenever he's around you, and only you."
"I've never seen a big difference," she protested.
"That's because you haven't known him long enough," Axel replied. "There's just this guarded look he gets in his eyes around anybody who he doesn't trust, and he never ever socializes with people outside the XIII and extremely close friends, both of which are basically the same thing. You want to know why?"
"Why?"
He laughed again. "Because he thinks he's got a 100% chance of screwing up people's first impressions of him. The guy has absolutely no self-confidence at all."
"But he talked to my mom and dad!" Naminé pointed out. "And he talks with Sora!"
Axel smirked. "That's because you were probably around. He didn't want to fail you. As for Sora, he's about the only guy who Roxas considers to be even worse off than he is."
Naminé decided not to ask why Roxas had that impression of Sora.
"As I was saying," Axel continued. "He's constantly on pins and needles around everyone except you, me, and Xion, and you're still the best at getting him to be himself."
"Because he likes me?" Naminé heard herself say.
"Exactly. You've just got this…this special quality, this charisma that makes people feel comfortable around you, like they could start a great friendship with you just by talking with you. It's true, too—I mean, look at how easily you became friends with Xion and Sora. Even Kairi's comfortable around you, and, well, yeah…" Axel halted. "You…you get what I mean, right?"
"Kind of," Naminé murmured. "So basically, what you mean is that Roxas likes me because I'm charming? That doesn't seem like a valid reason to me…"
"That's not the actual reason he fell for you, that's why he was attracted to you," Axel corrected. "Roxas is a really complicated guy, to say the least; there're probably a dozen different things about you that he likes you for."
The redhead shrugged. "Unfortunately, I've got no idea what those are. Again, Roxas is a really complicated guy, and I'm not the best at reading people."
"But you worked out all these theories about him…"
"Naminé, Xion and I have been his best friends since the sixth grade," Axel said softly. "Six years—six years—was how long it took us to get this far into his psyche."
She was silent for a moment.
"Who…who was the last person he really cared about?" Naminé asked quietly. "Before me?"
Axel shifted slightly. "Well, he doesn't like to talk about this…"
"Just tell me."
"His mom. He was never the same again after…"
She raised an eyebrow.
"His mother died of a stroke four years ago," Axel muttered. "I don't what the hell Roxas had to with do it, and it wasn't his fault at all, but he took the blame for it. He said he'd killed her; he was for missing for a month."
Four years ago? That matched up perfectly with the time Roxas might've been in the eighth grade…
The elevator slid to a halt.
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Well, that's it! I hope this one was worth the wait.
Would you kindly leave a review? (sorry, I was watched Bioshock videos yesterday)