Me: Just felt like getting one more chapter in before school started (WHY?! -sobs- Char: 0.o). I did most of this today :D
Char: Yeah, before this afternoon I think you were only up to the Axel/Anxclof conversation.
Me: Oh yeah, and I get the feeling that Char likes this chapter too...
Char: Yup! (evil grin)
Me: Also, just because I love to shamelessly plug all my stuff, I finally started that .hack/G.U. story idea I keep mentioning, because it was driving ME crazy too.
Lexi: Ari, Shadow - TSA fans.
Ari: Charmed, I'm sure. (snorts)
Shadow: Hi, everyone!
Me: So, the first three chapters are posted on my Deviantart ;P With that said, enjoy this 14-page long chapter!
Everyone: Oy.
Disclaimer- I don't own anything... especially not Roxas, Axel, Riku, or Sora... -dramatic sob-
Anxclof could only look on in shock, her eyes wide, as she half-numbly watched Axel and Seifer accept their Struggle bats. What the hell is he doing here? seemed to be the only thought pervading her mind. Yes, Axel was the arrogant type – probably enough to have swept the preliminaries and make it this far. But why was he here now?
The answer was obvious. Anxclof clenched her teeth in a way that made her feel as though she had lockjaw, and almost in response to that, her fingers curled into angry fists. He was probably a last-minute entry, just like she was, and had come for her. She couldn't tell whether or not he was here to talk to her or just beat the crap out of her – or, come to think of it, whether or not he was participating of his own volition or on Xemnas' orders.
Either way, she knew deep inside her, knowing in the absolute kind of certainty that caused a sinking feeling within her core, that Axel wasn't just here for the free glory.
Though, she realized dryly, the fame that came with participating in the biggest part of the festival was just a bonus. If the way Axel was smirking condescendingly at Seifer while winking and blowing kisses to the crowd was any indication, at least.
"Let's see how the veteran Struggler, Seifer, handles the recent dark-horse entry!" The announcer's words confirmed Anxclof's suspicions, and she looked on with a sinking heart.
"So, that guy just entered, just like you did…" Pence murmured around a mouthful of corn dog.
Anxclof cast a bemused look in his direction. "How can you eat at a time like this?"
"It's almost lunchtime anyway," he answered, without the slightest bit of aggression in his voice. She felt a bit guilty at the sharp way she'd spoken to him when she heard his tone.
"Where did Hayner go?" Olette wondered, surveying the area with a look of confusion on her face.
It occurred to Anxclof that she hadn't seen Hayner leave the sandlot, a realization that caused worry to accelerate her heartbeat and accumulate in the pit of her stomach. For no particular reason, the mental image of the Nobodies dragging Hayner through the underground tunnels popped up, a thought that made her wince. Thankfully, though, neither Pence nor Olette were looking in the Nobody's direction, and so Anxclof was spared having to think up any awkward explanations.
"Hey, pretty-boy," Seifer jeered as he and Axel stood across from each other on the platform. "Why don't you just throw the match now, and I'll spare you the humiliation later."
Axel sighed in a mock-rebuking way and pushed a few strands of vivid crimson hair out of his face, a gesture that reminded Anxclof disturbingly of Char. The brunette had a brief moment to wonder where Char and Sora were now before Axel spoke. "Look, man, I hate to break it to you, but…" He sighed again and pointed a casual finger in Seifer's direction. "Maybe you should be the one throwing the match."
Seifer's scar twitched as his eyes narrowed. "Fine, if that's how it is."
"Ready… STRUGGLE!"
The instant the words escaped the crowd, Seifer lunged forward with a grunt, his bat out in an offensive stance. Looking on, Anxclof suddenly realized that she didn't know who to root for: Seifer was a total jackass, but Axel had all but betrayed her in the past two weeks, and she felt torn.
However, the memories of the good old days, when she and Axel had put rats in Larxene's bed and terrorized Demyx, flooded into her. She flinched as she felt tears prick at her eyes; her memories never did pick the best times for reminders.
But the match was still going on, and so she managed to pick herself back up into the present long enough to see Axel's counterattack. Quickly, just before Seifer's bat touched Axel's belly, the redhead swerved out of the way, causing Seifer to stumble. Just as quickly, Axel's own Struggle bat whipped up in a blur of pale blue and struck Seifer hard in his own stomach.
"Ouch! How will Seifer handle this?" Anxclof watched, a smile gradually growing on her face, as Seifer fell to the ground, only to growl loudly and leap back up. However, Axel was already preparing his next move, and he spun around before facing Seifer again and lashing out with the bat. Apparently this next attack hurt even more, for Seifer graced Axel with an actual grunt and fell back again.
"He's good," Olette murmured, both eyebrows raised in surprise. Anxclof spared the girl only a fleeting sidelong glance before looking back at the match.
As the timer whittled down to the last seconds, Axel beat Seifer with the blond's own momentum, using Seifer's aggression against him while barely getting hit himself. Before Anxclof knew it, the time had run out, and Axel was still standing.
"The newbie is the winner!" Axel looked a bit put-out at the announcer's words and muttered something under his breath. "Next is our final match before the infamous Setzer! It's dark horse versus dark horse, newbie versus newbie, in a clash of the underdogs!"
"You're gonna be fighting him, Anx," Olette remarked, looking over at the Nobody in question.
Anxclof's own expression held shock and, she was sure, dread. Now she realized all too well the way he had planned this.
"Hey, you feeling all right?" queried Pence, lightly tapping Anxclof's shoulder.
She shook it off, if only briefly, and looked over at Pence, who stood on the opposite side from where Olette was. Anxclof gave him a quick grin, though her heart was pounding and she was fighting back the urge to vomit. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just nervous."
"Ah, don't be!" Pence chirped, reassured immediately. He swallowed the last of his corn dog and continued, a bit more coherently than before. "You're gonna clean up with that guy!"
"Yeah, you'll do fine." All three of them nearly jumped with shock at the sound of Hayner's voice. They whirled around and saw the boy, leaning against the wall and absently gnawing on a stick of half-eaten, dripping sea-salt ice cream.
"Where were you?" Olette asked, clear reprimanding in her voice.
Hayner winced a little at her tone, but replied nonetheless. "I went to the old mansion to think."
"You thinking," Anxclof couldn't help but remark. "What a concept."
Hayner rolled his eyes, then turned serious again. "No, really. I just figured that there was something wrong with you… the way you acted after our match…"
He let the silence speak for itself. Anxclof broke the eye contact with him by staring at the ground. "Oh," she murmured, guilt flooding her.
"And then, after a while, I figured – hey, if she wants to tell me, she will, right?" Hayner shrugged one shoulder. "So, I came back."
Pence and Olette gave nods and replies of understanding, accompanied by chiding comments on the latter's part, but Anxclof continued to stare at the ground. So, that was it… She couldn't help but mentally hit herself at the fact that she of all people had worried him. It was yet another reminder that one couldn't just go having painful reminiscences whenever they felt the urge.
"Anxclof, it's time for your match," Pence reminded her, getting her attention with another tap to the shoulder.
She looked up. All three of them were looking encouragingly at her, and suddenly, she wanted to cry all over again. I don't deserve this – I'm going to be gone by tomorrow anyway, and even though they couldn't know that, they still care… Biting her lip, she nodded, hoping that she still gave the illusion of nervousness.
Anxclof stepped onto the platform, her heartbeat growing ever faster and more erratic as her eyes met Axel's own dark green gaze. She stepped closer until most of the gap had been closed, and despite the way her anxiety was growing at the thought of speaking to him again, she didn't look away. She had always hated that he was just taller enough that she had to gaze up in order to meet his eyes.
"Hey there, Anx," he greeted – quietly enough for the crowd and announcer to miss, but loudly enough for her to hear from where she stood. "Having fun here?"
"Cut it, Axel." Anxclof narrowed her eyes. "You haven't come here to ask about my wellbeing and we both know it." The producer handed her a clearly-used Struggle bat – the nicks and scratches along the blue foam made that clear – but she ignored him.
"Geez, can't a guy go see his best friend without getting accused of not being here just to see her? You're more paranoid than I thought." Axel shook his head, bringing his hand up to his head to run through his crimson hair.
"I may have been one of your best friends, but Roxas was dear to both of us. That's the only reason –"
"Ready… STRUGGLE!"
…crap.
Axel lowered his hand, a wolfish smirk covering his features. "Well, sorry, hate to tell you, but it looks like we're gonna have to finish this little conversation later."
And then he charged at her.
It was too fast for Anxclof to intercept, so she ended up sprawled on the ground in an undignified heap. Hastily, she picked herself up. As she stared at Axel, noting how the tear-shaped markings on his face were set off by his grin, her grip tightened around the Struggle bat.
Letting out a snarl, she raced toward him, her Keyblade – bat already raised to deliver a blow. He brought up his own chakram – bat to block it, but he didn't have the privilege of dual weapons this time, and she focused on pushing his own bat down. Her arms shook with the effort, and his own arms trembled with the task of holding it up. Eventually, however, he lost the battle, and her Struggle bat came crashing down on him with the weight of their combined strength. A look of breathless triumph crossed her face, but it faded when he merely ducked and maneuvered his lithe body out of the way.
He grinned at her and moved his finger in a "no, no, no" motion. "Ah, Anx. You always fell for that trick."
Before she knew it, he was coming at her again with even more force than before. She found herself feinting backward in order to avoid his onslaught, bringing up her bat to block every blow. It was an odd caricature of the old days, she thought, except this time the weapons were more blunt and there was less of a chance of her getting incinerated.
She chanced a quick glance behind her and realized she was about to fall over the edge. Rapidly, she swung away from the final blow of Axel's onslaught and rolled away, so that she was well onto the platform. He nearly fell over the edge of the platform himself, but with the languid grace of one who was used to this, he twisted his body away in time.
"Well now, aren't we clever," he laughed.
Maybe that was when he sent her over the proverbial edge, and, crying out, she lunged forward. Axel's infernal smirk didn't go away as he blocked every one of her attacks, moving his Struggle bat effortlessly in a way that created a pale blue blur, a blur that blended smoothly with her own.
She raised the bat for one final blow as she noticed that he was about to fall off the edge again, but Axel was faster. He lashed out with his own weapon and it hit her in the stomach. While she had the wind knocked out of her, his bat briefly obscured her vision again, and then she was on her back with his weapon at her neck.
He leaned down so that his lips practically brushed hers with every word, loose crimson hair dangling against her bare shoulders as he effectively pinned her down. "I win," he whispered.
Meanwhile, the crowd and the announcer were going ballistic. "I… I'm not quite sure what just happened… But… Either way, our mystery contestant is the winner! What an intense match between two fledgling Strugglers!"
Axel straightened, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. "I wish he'd stop talking like that," he muttered, his words barely audible over the screaming spectators.
"Next, he will have to face our reigning champion, Setzer!"
"Setzerrrrr!" the fan-girls squealed from nearby. Both Nobodies rolled their eyes.
Anxclof knew she'd have to get up now if she wanted to save some face, so she promptly did so, not taking her eyes off the redhead. And as she watched him, he paused in smiling and waving to the crowd to meet her gaze.
Unspoken were the words we're talking later.
Anxclof lifted her chin, let out a "che", turned away, and left the sandlot.
"Anxclof!"
She started a little at the sound of her name, but relaxed when all she saw was Hayner running up to her. His pupils moved a little from side to side as if scanning the area, and eventually landed back on her.
"Are you going back to the Usual Spot?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You missed the title match," he went on, not waiting for an answer. Anxclof uncoiled slightly from where she was leaning against the wall, arms and legs crossed, at Hayner's words. "Setzer beat that other guy, but barely. It was pretty cool – but I was kinda looking forward to seeing you own Setzer," he confessed with a sigh.
"Too late now, I guess," Anxclof murmured, looking away from him and staring at the permanently-twilit sky. She issued a sigh of her own. For the life of her, she couldn't understand how anyone managed to actually live here – the sense of eternity passing was too great.
And while one would think that, being a Nobody and essentially having no heart, the idea of eternity was welcome, in Anxclof's case, that wasn't true at all.
Without glancing back, she knew Hayner was still watching her; she could feel his eyes drilling into her. Thankfully, though, being Hayner, he didn't pry.
"Well, the silent auction's going on right now," he said. "Let's go back to the sandlot."
Anxclof glanced back at him. The look on his face suggested that she wasn't allowed to disagree.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, stepping away from the wall as she did so. "Okay. Let's go."
He blinked; clearly, he'd expected her to take at least a small amount of umbrage. However, he still nodded. "Okay!" He turned away and started back toward the sandlot at a run.
The Nobody followed more sedately, absently running her fingers back through her hair. If she remembered properly, right after the silent auction – which strangely would last hours; she still wondered how that could be – was the party itself. She recognized the fact that Axel sure as hell wouldn't wait until the whole festival had come to a close before pulling her off and talking to her.
Maybe that was why she was so nervous.
She willed her pounding heart to calm as she entered the sandlot. Maybe he'll wait. Maybe he won't do it at all.
Damn it, why did she even bother trying to reassure herself of that?
"Hey, Anxclof."
She froze. The sounds of the crowd around her faded off into a dull buzzing hum as her heartbeat grew faster. Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.
Axel emerged from the shadows the twilight cast over the area, his typical grin already having taken its perch on his face. "So, how's life?"
She didn't turn to face him. "Axel, is this really the place to be talking about this?"
She heard him sigh. "Ah, you've got a point there."
And before she knew it, he'd seized her arm in a vice-like grip – probably to make sure she didn't try to get away – and dragged her off into the alleyway she'd just emerged from. For a brief, panicked moment, she willed Hayner or Olette or even Pence to notice what was going on, to come over and demand what exactly Axel thought he was doing, but of course it didn't happen.
As they left the sandlot far behind them, Anxclof took a quick look around and noticed how close they were to the Usual Spot. Immediately memories of sitting there, talking to Hayner, Pence, and Olette, making fun of Seifer, and refusing enough sea-salt ice cream to make a whale sick rushed back into her mind.
I'm sorry, guys. I wasn't what you thought I was.
She looked back up, as she had lowered her head so the bottom half was concealed behind the top of her jacket. Upon meeting Axel's eyes, she saw the impatience and annoyance in his gaze, twin green orbs that mirrored her own.
"All right, Axel, get to the point," she growled, folding her arms across her chest. "I know you didn't come here just to say 'hi'. I know Roxas has something to do with your being here."
Shockingly, no words emerged from Axel's mouth, not even a smart remark on how he was here to say hello, or a comment on how she was acting paranoid again. He simply lifted his eyes to the sky, his pupils moving as they caught sight of a flock of birds making their way across the palette of twilight in specks of dark ink.
Finally, Axel spoke, in a voice so quiet that she damn near asked him who he was and what he'd done with the Flurry of Dancing Flames.
"Roxas lived here. But… at the same time, he didn't."
Anxclof blinked. And then his meaning dawned upon her with the weight of ten falling rocks: he was talking about the virtual Twilight Town.
"Yeah, I know," she answered, in an equally soft voice that was full of reminiscence and longing. Somehow, this didn't feel like the type of conversation that merited the shouting and demanding that she was itching for. "Roxas told me about that, before he –"
And then tears gripped her throat and she could say no more.
The redhead lowered his gaze so that dark green eyes met her identical emeralds – emeralds that, currently, were shamefully blurred in the garb of tears.
"You said that while you were here, Roxas kissed you."
His words only made her throat close up even more, so that when she tried to swallow she almost choked on it. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"So, if you cared about each other that much, why didn't you try harder to keep him with us?"
There it was – the dreaded question. Anxclof had been anticipating it ever since she'd seen those telltale red locks, but that still didn't make things any easier when it finally came. She flinched and looked away. As she stared at the ground, a roly-poly made its way across the dirt, only to abruptly stop and curl into a ball when it noticed the two Nobodies talking there. Lucky bastard.
She shook her head, still not daring to meet Axel's eyes for fear of what she'd find there. "I don't know."
"You don't know." He spoke flatly, chuckling bitterly to himself. From the corner of her eye, she could see him shaking his head and running a hand through his hair; rather pointless, she thought, he was just aggravating the ponytail even more.
And then one gloved hand jerked out and yanked her chin up so that she was looking right at him. She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the single tear that escaped due to that action, at the rough feeling of leather against her skin.
"Get your hand off me," she ordered coldly.
For all intents and purposes, he ignored her.
But his next words cut her to the core.
"Not only did you lose Roxas right when you got him back… but now you're here with his friends, losing valuable time."
Anxclof said nothing. She would have shaken her head, but Axel's hand held her fast.
"Bring him back. You're the only one that can."
"So you're giving up, just like that?" she wanted to say. However, he seemed to read her mind anyway.
He took a deep breath. "I came here to tell you… I think Xemnas is on to me – to us. I think he knows what I've been doing. And while he has me under his control, you're free as a bird, to do whatever you want."
"You've never been scared of Xemnas before," she couldn't help but remark. "Why are you suddenly backing out?"
Axel's eyes widened, and then his hand snaked away from her face and back to his side. Freed from his touch, she stepped back, not taking her eyes off of his face, a countenance which currently held rising anger and… fear.
You've never been scared of Xemnas before.
Number VIII shook his head, grinning slightly. "I'm saying I'm leaving it up to you… Blade of Vengeance." He gave her a cocky wink. "Got it memorized?"
He'd never called her by her title before. It gave her a strange feeling along her spine.
And then it hit her: He was trusting her with this. He trusted her enough to allow her to work on her own.
It wasn't that he didn't care about Roxas. It was that he wanted to be around if or when Roxas came back.
Char's feet landed almost soundlessly on the ground as she walked, one after the other, eerily silent since she didn't bother running or slowing down. She ignored the people around her, allowed the sounds of the active marketplace to dim in her ears – it became easier as she rounded the corner toward the stairs that led into the bailey.
She glanced up at the sky, where clouds currently obscured the sun in a patchy blanket. A few minutes ago, it had been bright, but right now, it was dark, and that idea blotted out the thought of the sun's return.
Story of my life, she thought with a sigh. Ordinarily she would have pushed the thought away, mentally scolding herself for acting so despondent, but as of late, it fit all too well. The loss of her weapon, the injury that had all but crippled her… Even now, she still walked with a slight limp, and the stares from everyone around her elicited a small flinch from her. Nevertheless, she put it out of her mind and walked on.
Earlier this morning, she, Sora, and the others had said goodbye to Cloud. Char couldn't hold back a small chuckle at remembering how awkward things had been, considering that no one really knew the mysterious blond all that well. I should've taken a page out of his book with Sora, Donald, and Goofy. In turn, Cloud had looked uncomfortable with everyone crowded around him, especially when Aerith came up and actually put a hand on his shoulder before wishing him good luck on what he was searching for. That had caused Yuffie to nudge Sora and wink at him, to a grunt of surprise and a cringe from the aforementioned Keybearer.
Oddly, that didn't amuse Char as much as it should have.
She shook her head to clear it as she approached the entrance to the half-broken restoration site. A flash of light caught her eye, and she whipped toward it, instinctively putting out her hands to summon her blades only to snarl under her breath when she remembered what had happened. Fortunately, she had only glimpsed the light pedestals that the defense mechanism emitted; Merlin and Cid had set the town's defenses on high alert just before Char had left to find what was in the Postern for her. Recalling what the two of them had told her about the defense mechanism's levels, a small pool of guilt began to accumulate in her stomach. Keeping the light pedestals eliminating Heartless was difficult enough, but when they had to set it at such a high frequency, the defense mechanism wore out more quickly. I'll just have to make it as quick as possible, she had decided, a decision that now seemed rather rash.
Are you sure you don't want any of us to come with you? Sora had asked, worry clear on his face. Goofy looked just as concerned; even Donald had the courtesy to ask the same question.
I'll be fine, really, she had answered firmly. It's something I need to do alone.
Looking back, Char knew that she had spoken the truth as far as her own feelings were concerned. The Postern – and all that lay beyond its downward-spiraling staircase – held too many memories, good and bad mixed together in a nostalgia-inducing concoction.
She was now approaching the very same cavern that she and Sora had passed through just yesterday: the cavern that emanated that ominous white glow; the cavern that, she felt sure, had something to do with the Organization. The sight of the Nobodies' symbol near the back of the marble room with the doors told her that much. She also knew for a fact that Zexion's weapon had been a book, so it made sense that there would be an entrance to the meadow-contained ruins right beneath the door with the book on it.
Char had to stop in her tracks at thinking of Ienzo and honeysuckles. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath that barely made it past the growing lump in her throat, raised a hand to run through her bangs, a hand which tightened into a fist as it touched her hair. Focus, Char. You can't afford to get lost in your emotions.
As the feeling subsided and the choking feeling dissolved a little, she took another breath and carried on.
She stepped onto the more-defined concrete of the Postern, and felt the feeling of reminiscence hit her almost at once; the memories came at her with the force of a well-aimed slap, nearly buckling her knees and pulling tears from her eyes. Her gaze traveled the Postern, going from the large, circular clearing she currently stood in to the stairwell leading down toward Ansem's study, to the walls that towered high above her in a way that eclipsed the sun even though most of the clouds had now passed. Every corner held some sort of memory for her, she thought. By the wall nearest to where she stood, Ansem had found her: a five-year-old wreck, abandoned by her parents and with no clue of where she was; over by the spiraling stairs, she had first been introduced to Ienzo and the others; they had discovered Xehanort right where she was standing, his posture suggesting the same amount of purpose that she currently had here. She murmured slightly, closing her eyes and raising her face toward the sun, briefly reaching up to push some strands of hair back behind her ear.
She just thanked the gods that whatever was here, it clearly didn't wait for her within the winding corridors that led into Ansem's study. That, she knew, would induce such ardent feelings of longing and nostalgia in her that the tears threatening to spill out actually would escape.
However, right now, she managed to keep herself from crying – a feat she'd perfected well over the years, when she'd realized that, living among six other guys and her master, toughness was the only thing that she could allow to pervade her outer appearance.
So, she looked back at the Postern, opening her eyes so she could properly re-focus at the task at hand, and began walking brusquely around.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the smaller building where she and her fellow apprentices had stayed, an inn-like dwelling close by the foreboding walls of Ansem's study – and the Heartless manufactory, she recalled with an odd tinge of guilt, which was the cause of the nearby building's large size. She and the others had had to stay so close mainly because Ansem called them quite frequently for assignments and whatnot. She carefully avoided looking at the place where she had lived for ten years and instead chose to scan the Postern itself.
Cloud's words came back to her as she searched with only her eyes.
There's something for you in the Postern… There was a note attached to it…
A note – well, that shouldn't be too hard to notice, right? Knowing she'd have to actually move around and look, Char began walking around the circumference of the clearing, trying to search without having to look at her old home or making herself stare at the ground. It was more awkward than it sounded.
She thought she heard a few tiny voices giggling behind her, and abruptly Char whipped her head toward it, icy eyes narrowing. Seeing nothing, her eyes became suspicious slits before she turned back around.
"Excuse me, are you with the Restoration Committee?"
"Son of a –" Char whirled around fully, ready to pulverize whoever had just surprised her, weapons or no.
Then she frowned. Where…
"Down here," a different, but unmistakably feminine voice sighed.
Char raised one eyebrow, but nevertheless, she looked down. There stood – or rather, floated – three fairy-like creatures, all definitely female, and with different prevailing color schemes. The one who had just spoken was clad in mostly black, with ragged dark wings and spiked, pale brown hair. She flanked a fairy wearing pink, blue, and pale yellow who had longer brown hair; on the other side there was a blond, yellow-and-orange-garbed fairy, who was currently grinning up at the redhead.
Char blinked owlishly.
"Are you with the Restoration Committee?" the fairy in the middle repeated patiently.
"Yuna, don't bother," the dark fairy muttered, rolling her eyes.
Char narrowed her own eyes in response. "Sort of, yeah. Why?"
"No reason," the blond fairy giggled.
"Then go away," Char growled in response, turning away. "I'm looking for something here."
"Obviously," the short-haired fairy remarked, raising one tiny eyebrow.
The redhead turned only her head to face them, her forehead creased in an irritated frown. "Well then, if it's so obvious, why aren't you poofing or warping or whatever the hell it is you guys do?"
The main fairy had been looking on with a look of slight amusement on her face, but now she spoke. "Looking for something? Here?"
"No crap," Char answered cheekily.
"Ohhh, is it that box that's sitting over by that smaller building?" the blond fairy asked, tilting her head to the side and placing one finger against her chin.
Her curiosity successfully piqued, Char's frown softened into a curious expression. "Box? Does it by any chance have a note attached to it?"
"Uhhh…" The perky pixie looked down thoughtfully.
The black-clad fairy rolled her eyes again. "Yes, it does."
"Then that's what I'm looking for!" Without hesitation, Char started at a run toward her former home. The three pixies exchanged a glance and vanished in a flash of bright, multicolored light.
Upon reaching her destination, Char knelt down to get a better look and felt the breath catch in her throat. Sure enough, sitting against the graffiti-covered door – courtesy of Braig, much to Even's chagrin – was a small, slightly wide box. And sure enough, the infamous note was attached to the top of it by a short piece of tape. It was almost like Christmas, Char thought dryly.
Taking a deep breath – she felt like something important was about to happen, for some reason – she took hold of the note and tugged it free of its binding to the package. And that feeling, it turned out, was correct.
Char stared at the note, her eyes gradually becoming wide and her jaw dropping ever so slightly in her shocked murmur. It would almost have been comical, if the situation didn't suddenly feel so dire. The one who had penned this note had not had the courtesy to leave a signature, but she would recognize her master's meticulously neat handwriting anywhere.
Take this… and become stronger… so you can protect Sora.
I wish you well.
Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat – which, for some reason, only seemed to irritate it even more – Char put the note down and reached for the box's lid with suddenly-trembling fingers. Upon opening it, she gasped.
Carefully, she lifted out the dual swords, noting how natural the leather of the hilts felt against the tips of her fingers. From the way the three blades adorning each of the swords shone in the early morning light, she supposed that the weapons were fairly new – possibly had never even seen the light of day until now.
Struck by a sudden thought, she dropped the twin swords like they were hot pokers and hurriedly picked up the note again.
Take this… and become stronger.
It was just like Master, she mused. Even when he wasn't around, it seemed, he was looking out for her.
She slowly lowered the hand that held the small piece of paper. Tears were pricking at her eyes, and her teeth gritted together at the thought that Cid and Merlin wouldn't have to create a new pair of swords for her after all; she could just use these; after all, they were presents from her master.
This time, she didn't resist the urge to cry.
Sora leaned back a little in his chair, putting his feet against the table that had recently taken up residence in the Gummi ship's back room. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the hot dogs cooking for a brief moment before exhaling carefully in order to keep the scent in his nostrils. His stomach rumbled a little in hunger, and Donald and Goofy, who were sitting next to him, looked over in bemusement. The Keybearer gave them a sheepish grin. "I'm just hungry."
"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," Cid growled from where he stood at the stove, turning only his head to glare at the trio. "They'll be ready when they're ready."
"Alright, alright! Geez…" Donald grumbled, looking away. A few moments later, another growling sound akin to Sora's own stomach caused them all to glance at the duck. Donald frowned and muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. Sora and Goofy laughed to themselves, being careful to keep it quiet so as not to rouse the mage's volatile temper.
"I just hope Char gets back in time for lunch," Sora remarked, glancing out the Gummi ship's window.
"Me too – those hot dogs sure smell good!" Goofy chuckled.
Sora looked at Cid, slight worry clear in his dark blue eyes and on his features as the brunette cocked his head to the side. "So… did Leon and Yuffie really get lunch already?"
"Yep," Cid grunted. "They're out in the marketplace right now, getting some more groceries. Since the defense mechanism's takin' care of the Heartless right now, and we're almost out of supplies anyway…" He gave Sora, Donald, and Goofy a pointed glare, causing them all to start and glance nervously at each other before giving weak little laughs of agreement.
Come to think of it, Sora did feel like lately, he and his friends had been, well, taking advantage of his friends' hospitality – he carefully skirted around using the word "mooching", but the thought still remained. Luckily, Char's wound had fully healed, even though she still walked with a slight limp, and so they would probably depart tomorrow morning at the very latest. She had been lucky, though, Sora reflected; normally the burn from Hades' fireball would have done much worse damage to the nerve endings of her calf muscle. As it was, no matter how much Char apparently hated still carrying a bitter reminder of that day, luck was on her side.
Not to mention that Sora was so grateful that things had turned out all right in the end; that she hadn't been permanently… detained due to his ignorance.
But… she hated me back then. He still winced at the thought of it, for now he counted Char among his friends. Remembering back then induced unpleasant feelings of sadness and remembrance of the hope he'd always felt that she'd change her mind about him. So why was she so driven to protect me, when she knew the consequences of what she was about to do?
He still knew that he knew so little about her – and he intended to change that. Strangely, the thought of that made him slightly nervous.
Oh, come on! he scolded himself, in a voice that reminded him disturbingly of Char's own. You know each other pretty well already, and it's not like you'll have to keep up your end of the conversation – she'll just talk and you listen.
He was getting the feeling that that was all she needed, anyway – someone to talk to, and, more importantly, someone who would listen. In the past few days, especially when she had taken him to the field last night, Sora had realized how much Char was bottling up inside. To quote his mother, that kind of thing couldn't be healthy.
Sora guessed that the real thing that daunted him was that even if he managed to get Char off to the side, there was the extreme possibility that she wouldn't want to talk. It was odd, because underneath it all lay the desire to be that someone she could talk to, and that someone who would listen.
An abrupt knock roused Sora from his thoughts, and he glanced toward the entrance to the room. His heart began to beat a little faster with the hope that it would be Char returning.
His hope was justified, because in the next instant after the knock on the door, the door itself opened and Char's trademark crimson hair and blue eyes made themselves known to everyone in the room. A small smile covered her face from where she'd popped her head in, and Sora blinked. Wonder what that thing for her was.
"Hi, Char!" Goofy greeted with his telltale grin.
"Hey, everybody," Char answered, her own smile widening as her gaze went from Donald, to Goofy, to Cid, and then to Sora, where it lingered. Sora ignored the snicker from Cid's direction and waved. "Hi, Char. So, what was waiting for you at the Postern?"
A small shadow flickered over her face at the word – another thing he was going to have to ask her about – but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Char stepped fully into the room, and immediately, everyone saw what she had been grinning about.
In her hands were an obviously-new set of twin swords, but these differed drastically from her original blades. Her old weapons had held a sort of beaten-up, dignified presence about them. These swords, however, had a completely different aura. Sora couldn't explain it, but it reminded him inexplicably of Leon whenever the older brunette was wielding his Gunblade. Not to mention the two blades that extended off to the side of the middle one, making the weapons into dual three-bladed swords. The blades themselves had jagged figures from where they extended out of the hilt, which was adorned with rubies along the sides of where Char was currently gripping it.
"Wow," Donald uttered, floored with shock.
Char grinned, as though enjoying the attention. She raised her swords slightly to put her hands behind her back, and a flash of light from there announced that the swords had just vanished. "Like 'em?" she queried almost lazily, making her way over to the table. She plopped down in the free chair next to Sora's and looked right at Cid. "Guess you won't be needing to make me those new twin swords, eh?"
Cid growled in disappointment. "Char, you little hooligan, you just ruined Merlin's and my tries to make a new one!" he grumbled, putting his palm to his forehead and shaking his head.
Char looked away shiftily. "Eh, well, think of it this way. At least you won't have to work any harder, right?"
"Whatever," Cid grunted, setting the newly-cooked hot dogs into buns and bringing the basket over. "Help yourselves."
"All right!" Sora cheered, taking a hot dog and nearly devouring the whole thing, bun and all, in one bite.
Char rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. "Sora," she muttered, taking a hot dog of her own and smirking into it as she took a bite. "You're such a bottomless pit it makes me sad sometimes."
"Hey!" Sora protested.
Donald narrowed his eyes. "You're awfully happy," he remarked around a mouthful of hot dog.
"Well, Donald, she did just get a new weapon, a-hyuck," Goofy said, tapping his friend's shoulder.
"Pretty much, yeah," Char admitted. Despite her previous remarks about Sora being a bottomless pit, she'd already finished her first hot dog and was reaching in for another.
Cid didn't say anything aloud, but he grumbled something about people eating him out of house and home. Sora grinned.
For the most part, Donald was right – Char seemed happier than before. The surge of warmth that went through Sora as he looked at her definitely had nothing to do with his stomach.
Then he thought of Kairi and nearly hit his head against the table right then and there. What is wrong with me?!
"So, since I'm better and back in ass-kicking mode, does that mean we can leave tomorrow?" asked Char, apparently not noticing Sora's feelings about to make themselves known.
"Yup, I'm sure we can!" Goofy smiled.
"You'd better," Cid muttered.
Char just rolled her eyes at him before looking back to the others. "That's good, then. We'll just spend one more night here and then – Sora, are you okay?"
Sora gave a start of surprise at her words and looked over at her. Her head was tilted slightly to the side and her brow furrowed in a small frown. He stared at her ice-blue eyes for a moment – had they had tiny slivers of gold in them before?
And then he abruptly realized that she was still waiting for an answer.
"Er, yeah," he hurriedly said, promptly occupying his mouth with his meal before anyone could say otherwise.
Char's eyebrow slowly went up on her forehead, but mostly she dismissed it.
"Finally," Donald muttered.
As always, Anxclof couldn't tell what time it was from the twilit sky – but Olette had said the party portion of the festival would take place at night, and the citizens of Twilight Town had been dancing and talking and laughing for hours.
She thought back to the events from the beginning of the party as she leaned against the wall. Hayner and Olette had danced for a while, with Anxclof sitting off mostly to the side trying to ignore the rest of the world, her thoughts still focused mostly on her friends and Axel's appearance. She had to admit, it had been rather amusing, watching Hayner staring down at the ground in obvious concentration so that he wouldn't accidentally step on Olette's toes.
Anxclof almost hated to admit it, but, despite her previous insistence on her feet being more suited to the battlefield, she had swallowed her pride, however briefly, and danced with Hayner and Pence. Things with the former had been awkward due to him practically being like her brother at this point, and the sight of Pence attempting to "move that body" was embarrassing, but for the most part she had ignored that and just allowed herself to have a little fun. When things got to the "slow dances," Anxclof had dutifully peeled herself away from the crowd of suddenly-enthusiastic couples. It had been difficult, because Seifer – Seifer, of all people – had tried to persuade her to dance with him for just one song. Fortunately, a threat against certain appendages had been enough of a hint for him, and he had slunk off in a rejected, surly state.
Not to mention that Pence had gotten up the courage to ask a girl he'd had a crush on for a while to dance with him, thanks to some encouragement on Olette and Anxclof's part – the Nobody was shocked that she'd cared that much about Pence's life to tell him to go for it, but things were always changing.
She glanced toward the alleyway that led to the Usual Spot, remembering how she and Axel had talked, and suppressed a sigh. Things were always… always changing.
In the back of her mind, Anxclof understood that she had to leave tonight. Tonight was about the only chance, unless she wanted Hayner and the others to try and enroll her in school with them.
School. She nearly scoffed at the concept. Right now, Roxas was more important than any idiotic school.
Roxas… Her fists clenched as she thought of his blond hair; his dark blue eyes; his smile. Until now she hadn't allowed herself to think of how much she missed him – not here, in this atmosphere, anyway – but now that she had a moment to herself, the thought hit her, hard.
She had to leave.
Quietly, Anxclof slipped away from the party, allowing herself to breathe deeply once the loudness of the music and talking had faded behind her. She still hated crowds.
After a moment's hesitation, because she had no clue where she intended to go, she put out a hand and summoned a dark portal. It swirled and danced together in a mixture of ebony and ivory tentacles, and she bit her lip.
I don't know where I'll go next… but I have to at least try.
With that thought ringing through her mind, she stepped into the portal, and it vanished as soon as she'd disappeared through it.
Me: Okay, so that should be the last we see of Anxclof for a while. (I can just hear you all sighing in relief...)
Fans: YEY! More SoraChar-age!
Char: Just kill me now...
Me: (sweatdrop) Yeah, so now hopefully you can kind of start to see him growing to care for her. I'm not sure if she likes him yet, though...
Char: (ahem)
Me: In the FIC, I meant. We all know that outside of it you hate him...
Char: Pretty much.
Sora: D:
Char: ...dammit, don't cry... Look, I'm sorry, okay? Does that help?
Sora: It's fine, Char... really. (smiles and hugs her)
Me and Fans: D'awwwwwwwww.
Lexi: (sweatdrop) Er, I'll just close this chapter then, I guess.
Ari: Since Saf is too busy fangasming over her own pairing...
Lexi: Next chapter, Sora and company leave Hollow Bastion, and on the way to Port Royal, Sora and Char get to know each other a bit more.
Ari: (sees everyone getting stupid grins) Oh God - bloody perverts! (carves them up with her scythe)
Everyone: ...