A/N: The first chapter of Shadow on the Wall. This story started with vague musings while attempting to comprehend the Kingdom Hearts storyline. I've always liked Axel/Lea's story and his journey as a character. So much so that I wanted to add more depth with another character, who I hope has as much depth.

Warnings: Kingdom Hearts convolution, mystery with answers not immediately apparent, despair with scatterings of hope, some swearing, violence, illness both physical and mental, friendship both failing and overcoming, romance not obvious to all, God, amnesia, and Original Characters that help message/plot.

I hope you enjoy it.

Shadow on the Wall

::I::

red, the first memory

Red.

It was the color of the first glimmer of light.

Shattered glass splayed across the dark recesses of the mind. Each piece contained a story, a memory. Some were large and smooth; the memories reflected on the surfaces easy to see, easy to relive, and easy to reconnect. But those soon broke and became like all the other pieces, which were small and jagged shards that could not be touched, and were nothing more than glinting teeth. How was it to be put back together?

The shards were sinking into the black. The colors of the memories were being snuffed out; pulled far, far away. All were gone…except one. One shard of red shone through the darkness.

It started with that one recollection, and that one small fragment of memory pulled to another to form one picture.

Red was the first thing she could recall; red as blood, red as an autumn leaf, red as a blazing sunset. It was outlined from the black, the vast darkness that devoured everything else. And that color, that light, was connected to a person.

Red. It was what dragged her despondent gaze from the floor. His hair was red as the oxygenated blood of life. That color brought her attention to him, but what kept it was his smile. So bright and genuine, so free and unrestrained. She never saw another smile like it. Next were his eyes, clear and glimmering like an emerald sea…yet she couldn't understand the mind behind them.

She stood to the side, her back against the wall, as throngs of students passed by. She would not speak to anyone nor meet any eyes that briefly glanced her way. The hallways were long and wide and cold. She'd get lost among the faces, trapped in her own reverie.

When he passed by, she would reenter the outside world, pulled by strings of curiosity and confusion. He walked and talked with people so easily. He seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve without fear. She couldn't understand how anyone could do that. He was so nonchalant, so carefree.

She would watch him, peering from the corner of her eye as he went by, as he interacted and conversed with different people, until he rounded the corner and disappeared from her sight. She never followed; she wouldn't dare. But if he was around in the halls or happened to be in the same classroom as her, then she would observe his perplexing behaviors.

He confounded her, the one with red hair and a beaming smile, seemingly a being full of light and life.

So different from her…

She was a creature of shadow with a heart hidden deep within. A heart no one could get at, that no one could hurt. A heart that sometimes even she could not reach, so concealed it was. Her hair was dim and dark for a blonde and even in the sunlight she appeared to be in the shade. Her pale, somewhat ashen complexion did not help. Her eyes were black as the soot left in burned out fireplaces and absorbed the light, smothering it, rather than reflect it for the world to see.

She wanted to know how the one with red hair could wear his heart so openly and how he could shine in the light so freely.

But she never approached, never spoke. She did not know how to go about such things. The very thought of stepping out into the light and saying hello terrified her. Therefore she stuck to observing the light, bright red, as it travelled past her.

Until one day that changed, one day the light was before her.

It happened in the only class she shared with him. The teacher was incredibly irate and did not appreciate being interrupted whilst he was especially talkative, animatedly discussing with those nearest to him, like he couldn't sit still. She took the scene in from her spot on the back row. She didn't understand why the teacher garnered such offense. He was staying on topic, mostly, occasionally digressing. He blurted out questions or if he remembered to raise his hand spoke his thoughts on the subject without waiting to be called on.

It was plain to see that he preferred interactive learning in place of sit-through lectures. Unfortunately, that particular teacher only dealt in lectures.

The small, narrow eyes of the teacher sparked with indignation, glaring over the wire rim of the tiny reading glasses that rested down on her pointy nose. A gray hair fell from her neatly tied bun as she barked for silence, and as the quiet resumed so did the lesson.

But not for long.

The last straw was broken when he dared to challenge the methods of the latest problem. He had a better way, he said. It would yield the same results as the teacher's method, but quicker and with less technicalities.

The chalk the teacher was transcribing with clacked down into the holder at the base of the blackboard and the gray woman stalked to her desk. The slap of a ruler across the wooden surface brought everyone's attention to the front. That was when the teacher ordered everyone, excluding him, to stand. The instructions were made clear: Every student was to get in a line and one by one they were to tell him what they disliked most about him.

She, the creature of shadow, kept her head down, kept to the back of the crowd. She was last in line.

The comments didn't start out so bad. You're annoying, one said. You're too loud, said another. You're so full of yourself, said one girl with no hesitations. However, it got harsher from there. Any reluctance they had vanished as they followed each other's example, seeing that there would be no reprimand for cruel words. It snowballed from then on and they all followed the pull of gravity. They became more brazen, the verbal knives growing sharper. Some students really ripped into him. Every tongue lashed what they didn't like, or what some downright hated, about him.

Every insult stung her, certain words made her flinch, though she was not the recipient.

She usually wore a neutral face that was marred by neither smile nor frown.

That day she frowned openly, her mouth turned down and her brow pinched in distress.

Yet there was the boy with red hair…smiling through it all.

It amazed her, baffled her mind. But something was different. Something was very wrong. She observed him closely and saw that his emerald eyes were dimming, saw that the smile was strained, forced. She saw the light fading like a candled flame sputtering on the last bit of its wick.

Before she was aware of it she stood in front of his desk. She was the last one, the one who had yet to say anything. He looked her straight in the eye, just like he did with all the others, still grinning. Briefly she wondered what he saw. She wondered what she looked like to him with her black eyes, curtain hair, and dull clothes colored gray and brown. She was stuck before him, expected to say horrible things.

She always followed instructions, obeyed commands without fail; a little toy solider, ready to march.

However, before the flickering flame she hesitated.

The teacher sighed and she knew she was about to be told to return to her seat, as the rest of the class had already done so. She did not speak often—only when spoken to, only when pushed by an authority figure. It seemed no one had expected her to say anything after all.

But she did.

She could not leave the light to be smothered out. She just couldn't.

"There is nothing about you I do not like."

That she said anything at all surprised even her.

"I think you are a very interesting person."

She usually kept her head down, did as she was told.

"You are not too loud, or annoying, or arrogant, or any of those other things."

But that day she spoke freely, of what she believed to be simple facts.

"You are friendly, you are versatile, you are cunning, and you are brave."

However, as she spoke she thought she may have done wrong. He wasn't smiling anymore. His eyes were big and round and his mouth had fallen into a straight line, his lips slightly parted in shock. Regardless, she kept on going. It was like an overstuffed closet had finally been opened, and all the jumbled-up things fell out.

"I wish I could be more like you, I wish I…"

I wish I could stand in the sunlight, unafraid…

"Enough!" the teacher snapped.

"Everything everyone else said," her tone went from steady to anxious—anything to reignite the light, "…all horrible lies!"

"Go to the offi–"

"Your method of punishment is unethical!" She had whirled on the teacher, her fraught voice filling the classroom. When silence engulfed them all, she came back to herself. She straightened, lowered her head, and regained composure. "I will…escort myself to the office."

Her footsteps were loud echoes in her ears. Her chest was tight; she forced herself to breathe normally. She had made a fool of herself, no doubt. Even so, she paused at the door, looking back to the color red. This time it was he who was watching her.

"I…hope to see you smiling again. A real smile." Her voice was small, and she felt foolish saying it, saying anything more at all, but the fear of humiliation did not subjugate the fear of him losing that strange radiance he held. A sudden flare made her turn to the teacher once more. "And his explanation of the last equation was better than yours!"

The door slammed behind her.

The pieces stopped coming together, the memory left incomplete with jagged edges ready to slice her should she try to re-approach it. A thousand more shards remained, strewn and hidden about the bleak darkness.

But it was a start—a start to recollecting the life that once was.

She still lurked in halls in the present time. Only those walls were a frigid white and gray—longer, wider, and colder than the ones from before. No one walked or talked in those cold halls.

At least no one…that was anyone.

She mulled over her one possession, her one memory of the past, and confusion threatened to encompass her in a whirlwind. What made her act the way she did? What made her want to preserve the light, what made her turn frantic? And the last words she said to that teacher… The thing that made her expel such a childish quip was something she no longer possessed or understood.

But then again, she never recalled understanding anything—or even contemplating anything—within the ceaseless white halls. Perhaps she would return to the monotonous routine and neither think nor feel.

However, the recollection, glittering red, would not fade away.

Then she thought she saw red against the white, thought she saw a glimmer of green eyes. And it would seem she did. She had seen him before in the gray and white, but now she could recognize the red from the monochrome.

How did he—of all people—end up in such a place?

She lingered in the shadows with the ones called Dusks. He never looked her way, never knew she was there. He would not know her even if he did. And she did not know him beyond that one fragment, that one reflected memory. She did not know if he ever smiled again.

Another piece of the impossible puzzle slid into place.

His name.

The one with radiant red hair, lambent emerald eyes, and a bright smile…

She remembered his name.

Lea.

It was Lea.

She remembered his name…

…even though she had forgotten her own.

...

A/N: I've been musing over this for a while. Let me know if it's any good?

Thank you for reading.