A/N: Thank you so much for your review, Anony! It really encouraged me during this busy time. Please accept this imaginary cookie as a token of my gratitude. *gives cookie*
And thanks everyone else for following/favoriting.
It's nice to know people are reading. I hope you find this chapter satisfying.
...
::VIII::
threat
Fists flew.
Isa dominated Green Stripe with brute strength, Lea tried his opponent out before delivering a few solid hits of his own, and Dexné held fast as she was slammed against lockers in her captive's efforts to dislodge her.
Snarls, grunts, hisses, and clattering metal spooked the silence away. There were no words exchanged, excluding one. And Dexné honed in on that one word like it was a lifeline amidst a raging storm. Her name.
Her true name.
She didn't think much about her true name. Occasionally she might try a guess, a shot in the dark, but nothing ever sounded right. However, as they fought their battles—(correction: Lea and Isa were fighting, Dexné merely imitated a rabid koala)—she thought she almost heard it coming from Lea. He kept glancing over his shoulder at her, mouth moving to form a familiar yet unknown name.
N…E…
She could almost hear it, the memory almost came through—almost, and then it was cut out by an elderly teacher's voice bouncing down the long hallway.
The fighting ceased immediately, stopping like a film staggering on a broken camera roll or a computer game skipping and freezing from a scratched disc.
"Don't think I'll forget this!" Green Stripe bellowed before splitting from Isa. The boy fighting Lea stumbled after him.
Isa was already heading for the door. He shoved it open, shooting back a searing gaze that ordered haste.
Lea swiveled on his heel, rushing to Dexné. "We gotta go! - - - -, let go!" Lea pried her arms off the choking boy. Once free he scrambled away, following his buddies in retreat.
Isa, Lea, and Dexné took off as well. They ran out the school, down the streets, and didn't stop until they got to their spot—the stone wall.
Dexné could hear nothing but collective gasps as their lungs heaved for air.
"Man," Lea sighed, finally catching his breath, "that was crazy."
Dexné stood shaking, the adrenaline surging frighteningly beneath the surface. She clenched her hands together as if in prayer, willing herself calm. Her eyes staggered first to Lea, then to Isa. She'd never seen anyone fight so feral, and now they stood cool and composed as if it never happened. She briefly wondered if this was a regular occurrence for them, something they hadn't allowed her to see before.
"What was that all about, Lea?" Isa asked.
"Ah, just Zane being Zane—picking on some kid. When I got in the way he took it personally. Cut me off while I was heading to meet with you guys." Lea swept his emerald-sea-colored eyes over Dexné. "You okay?"
"…Sh-shouldn't I be asking you that?" she said stiffly, recalling all the punches he received before Isa intervened.
He laughed. "Naah, I'm tough. Don't worry about me."
"You shouldn't worry about her either," Isa tossed in. "She's perfectly capable of holding her own, as you saw."
"Yeah, but…" Lea scratched at the back of his head, a habit telling of his discomfort. "She's…"
"A girl," Isa deadpanned. "Remind me again how many times your sisters beat you up."
Lea glared at Isa, grumbling, "Shut up, I let them win."
"I'll…go get us some ice cream," Dexné said, not knowing what else to do. Her legs were swift in the swishing mass of her long skirt, and her heart still beat so rapidly she forgot to be anxious about interacting with the store keeper.
She returned with the ice cream and a packet of ice. "For your face," she said to Lea's questioning stare. "Keep the swelling down."
Isa snorted.
"What're you laughing at?" Lea glared half-heartedly.
"You're always getting into trouble."
"Yeah, well…" He put the ice to his jaw, a slow grin breaking from a pained grimace. "Good thing I have you two to get me out of it. Thanks."
They ate their cold snacks in silence, birds chirping, grasshoppers buzzing, the fountain gurgling nearby.
Dexné, still shivering and under pressure, scrambled to find normalcy. She wanted very much to be like them, to be strong and steady and stop shaking.
Stop shaking.
In an inane attempt to fit in, she blurted, "That was exciting. We should beat people up more often." Immediately regretting, she pinched her lips shut, questioning her sanity.
Isa and Lea exchanged surprised glances.
Then their laughter filled the air, and just like that Dexné's nerviness evaporated and her heart fluttered a sigh of relief.
People had tried to befriend Dexné before.
Out of an entire crowd there'd be one or two who saw her, sitting alone, hunched over and small. They'd approach her. Small talk would be attempted. If they were lucky they might pull a short verbal response from her. But more often than not she'd just stare; maybe nod, maybe shrug. Vacant black eyes staring from a face too pale unnerved most. They'd grow uncomfortable, swiftly disengage. None had been persistent.
Not like Lea.
And, thinking about it, she couldn't figure out why Lea went to such lengths. No one else went through the trouble he did; getting to her wasn't easy—she never made it easy. Climb walls that were like mountains—that's what had to be done to reach Dexné with the hand of friendship.
She didn't think she was worth the effort.
And it seemed the general population agreed.
Courteous kindness did not breech the icy walls she leaned against every day. She never noticed how cold those walls really were, not until Lea came around, bringing a fire with him most people could only dream of carrying. And he showed her how nice it felt to be warm, if she'd only step out into the sun. Mesmerized by his fire, she followed. By doing so she was able to meet not only the sun, but the moon.
People had tried to befriend Dexné before.
Lea and Isa were just the only ones to succeed.
Or maybe they weren't.
Maybe there was another who tried almost as hard.
Dexné barely remembered that girl. But she was there. Or had been.
Social stagnation never seemed to scare her off. Rebuffed her, made her move along, yes. But she kept coming around. She'd say hi, ask Dexné how she was. She might even comment on the weather.
Then she'd leave.
The problem was she continued coming back.
She didn't go out of her way, didn't seek Dexné out like a heat seeking missile (she wasn't Lea). But if she happened to be nearby, she'd say something. Dexné never knew what to think of her. On bad days she was annoying; on good ones she was just there. She didn't bother with responses anymore and the girl stopped waiting for them. She never hounded Dexné. Maybe they would've been friends if she had. But she only gave polite greetings and polite goodbyes.
Perhaps if Dexné had reached out…
No, she wasn't going to climb the walls she made for the very purpose of keeping others away.
Dexné would never see her coming. She'd hear her bell-light voice before she saw her. If she deigned to look at her she'd see nothing extraordinary. Short brown hair, dark and shiny, surrounding a heart-shaped face, and dark eyes, almost as dark as Dexné's. But not black. When the light hit, she could see they were blue, a navy that glittered like the ocean under a full moon.
It made Dexné want to scowl. Black didn't glitter. What did the stupid girl want, anyway? She had nothing to gain by speaking with a shadow. How pointless.
Stay away, thought Dexné. You're going to leave anyway. Don't even bother.
Dexné studied her brown shoes as chatter hummed around her. It was the start of school, and she was waiting in her usual spot for the bell or Lea—whichever came first.
"I'm sorry about Zane," said the navy-eyed girl out of nowhere.
Dexné jerked in surprise, her back rippling on the brick wall behind her. Her shock gaze glued to a petite, roundish figure.
Navy gave her an apologetic smile, but made no other acknowledgement of her fright. "I've been working on him," she continued, "trying to get him to be nice. He's almost cordial with me now…well, mostly."
Dexné stared.
"I hope you weren't hurt. It was you with Isa and Lea, right? When the fight broke out?"
Dexné blinked.
"I was there. I saw. Well I saw the tail end of it actually. Oh, don't worry, I won't tell." Navy's face scrunched up like she tasted something sour. "I heard Zane started it. He can be such a jerk."
Dexné's eyes darted from one end of the hall to the other, then resumed staring.
The girl shuffled her feet. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, - - - -."
And then she was on her way, gone as quickly as she'd come. Dexné stared after her, stupefied. Then her eyes narrowed and she turned her attention back to her shoes in a silent huff. Come and go. No one stays.
A realization dawned. Navy knew her name, but Dexné did not know Navy's. She suddenly felt like a mouse being observed in her cage. The observer knew things about her, but she knew nothing of the one watching her. A jittery feeling swept all over Dexné, creeping along and making her uneasy.
She needed to learn that name, if only to level the playing field.
Now that she was actually looking, Navy seemed to be everywhere, buzzing around like some busy little bee. Her stride always carried purpose, and she always held important looking folders. She wasn't one to dawdle.
Dexné lingered, Dexné watched, Dexné moved slowly and carefully, and was quick only when she needed to be. Never did she rush to get to class, she went out of duty, whereas Navy seemed pleased to go and happy to be punctual.
They were nothing alike.
She followed too closely and was careless. Navy caught sight of her and, like a rabbit, Dexné froze foolishly as if she would disappear once motionless. But Navy suspected no foul play. She smiled and waved merrily, powder-blue bracelets jingling on her wrist.
The jingle echoed in Dexné's ears, and her eye got stuck on the metal bands of blue. She'd seen those before. Navy always wore them, one around each wrist. The bracelets were shaped odd, like strings of little ornate clouds orbiting the carpals. They gave Dexné a sense of déjà vu, like she'd seen them elsewhere. She just couldn't place where…
The next time Dexné found Navy, she was talking to Isa at his locker.
In all the time Dexné spent with Isa, he had shown he was fluent in both savagery and sophistication. He dwelled high on the social ladders, not limited to any one class, and was respected by jock and nerd alike. He was quiet, but not fearful like Dexné. He spoke when necessary and did not waste time on matters he deemed unimportant.
Dexné wondered how Navy fit into the "important" section.
Dexné peered around the corner, books clutched tightly to her chest, waiting for the strange girl to leave before approaching Isa.
At last she left and Dexné pulled away from the concealing wall. She walked with forced nonchalance to her blue-haired friend.
"Who was that?" she inquired with feigned indifference.
Isa sighed exasperatedly. "That was the class president. Don't you keep up with anything?"
"No." She smiled softly as he put a hand to his head. "She stops and talks to me a lot."
"She's a pleasant person," Isa agreed, sliding a large textbook into his orderly locker.
"…What's her name?"
Isa raised his brows and gave her a hooded look that presented no surprise. "She stops to talk to you and you don't even know her name?"
Dexné stared expectantly.
Isa huffed. "You want to know her name? Ask her."
Dexné's head snapped to attention, her eyes going wide. "What?"
"Ask her," Isa repeated, shutting the locker. The metal clang resounded with an authoritative finality, and it made Dexné flinch.
Ask her? How could she ask her? The girl had been around since middle school—maybe even elementary—and Dexné didn't know her name. But she knew hers. To ask her now would be—it would be…
Humiliating. Shameful. Unthinkable.
Black eyes beseeched him, but she knew it was futile. Her doleful gaze bounced harmlessly off Isa's straight back. He would give her no answer.
But he wasn't the only one who would know. Dexné went through her usual routine, her usual classes, all the while keeping an eye out for any shock of red. Surely he would have the name memorized.
And so, when she caught him in the hallway, she was astounded to hear him say, "The class president's name? It's…" He scratched his temple, smirking almost sheepishly. "Huh. I forget."
"You…didn't get it memorized?"
"Nope." He slapped his arms down after a lazy shrug. "Sorry."
She cast her gaze downward, eyes sweeping the floor as if it would uncover the name there.
Lea leaned forward, catching her eyes with his. Gently, he said, "You could try the yearbook, you know."
"Oh!" she startled, shaking her head to clear its fog. "Yes. Of course. I will."
White teeth showed in the smile spreading on his face and he ruffled her hair endearingly. "You spazzy robot."
That evening she scanned the dusty bookshelves of her home, trailing fingers over old bindings with faded gold letters, eventually finding her yearbook. When she opened it the pages still smelled new. Her mother insisted she get one, as a keepsake, but she never bothered looking through it. Her black eyes darted from face to face, through rows and rows of pictures of classmates she never troubled herself to know. So many names she wouldn't care enough to remember.
Finally black eyes reflected the face they were looking for. Navy eyes shined tenderly and her mouth smiled demurely.
The face finally had a name, and it wasn't Navy.
Her name was Sera.
Dexné jolted awake in the golden hills feeling chilled despite the warmth of her Organization coat. She stood, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to overcome her, and squinted in the direction of the clock tower.
She'd been "asleep" only three hours.
She took a Dark Corridor to the castle, shadows dancing at her feet as she stalked to her room. It wouldn't be long before she would have to report for duty. In lieu of sleep she drank two hi-potions, bathed, and redressed. And then she waited.
While she waited she contemplated, as she could do little else.
Memories mixed and mingled in her head. She couldn't keep it all straight. So she couldn't really believe herself when she thought she'd seen Sera's bracelets before, or rather now, in the present. The memory-dream must have faulted, confused now for then or then for now.
Mind whirring like a restless, overheated computer, Dexné closed her eyes and put her head in her hands, wishing for nothing more than dawn to come and the missions to come with it. At least then she would be focused on her duties, and not tripping over something long since passed.
Morning came.
Dusks swirled around the Devouring Shadow, their wispy voices filling her ears and drowning out the things that kept her pacing throughout the night. She tore through her missions: finding, tracking, devouring, reporting. Neoshadows and Leechgraves put cuts on her she couldn't really feel, and quick injections of elixir took care of all physical manifestations and their subsequent malfunctions.
She didn't slow, not when cornered by the Neoshadows or when temporarily struck still in imagined fright at the Leechgrave. Shadows dived into a black hole that cared for nothing but consumption. Chains and coffins and thorned obtrusions scattered dirt that tried to bury her in memories that roared through muzzles tied too tight.
Through all the chaos there was red, a light shining so desperately in the distance, trying to get her attention.
The organic mechanisms that made up her body at last could take no more, and she collapsed in the dark hall. She leaned heavily against the wall, side pressed against the cold surface, fingertips grasping the white in a vain attempt to keep her from sliding further down.
Then she saw red, entering the dark hall from a too bright room, the light behind him giving him an almost ethereal glow.
Not now, she prayed, don't see me like this. Don't see me. Please, don't see me.
The sound of his boots reverberated off empty walls, getting louder the closer they got. And when they reached her she held her breath, going absolutely still in the misconceived notion she'd disappear in doing so.
He passed her, kept going.
She let out her breath.
And then he stopped. Turned. Looked at her. His luminous green eyes squinted in the dark as he zoned in on her scrunched up form and everything in Dexné stilled, like the very blood in her veins froze to a crashing halt.
"Nulla," he ventured. "What are you doing?"
"…Resting, my liege."
He blinked, seeming to stumble over her words. "Liege?" he muttered, ruffling the back of his hair. His hand fell back to his side as he said, "Not really the place to rest, Nulla."
"As you say." She struggled to keep her tone flat and even. As it was, it wavered like a dried leaf trembling in the face of a firestorm's gust.
"Right then…" He trailed off, waving her away as he himself went along.
Cold fingers plunged into Dexné's chest, or so it felt like. Not understanding it, or why it was happening, she put a fist over it. And then she banged against it, knocking on it like a door, only to be greeted with a hollow thump, thump, thump.
She must've been lucky, or maybe there was a silent force pulling her towards those two, connecting them though they knew not the face beneath the hood, and she knew not what had become of them to make them like this.
Sun.
Moon.
When did you fall from the sky...?
Or maybe it wasn't luck, considering what she was overhearing: Traitorous whispers tight-walking a line bordering enigmatic and deadly. Then again, what if it was another member who was listening in? Anyone else would have reported to the Superior, bringing with them the iron fist of punishment.
Of execution.
But with the way it was, Dexné was the one to hear. And she was the one to decide to horde the information to herself, trying to protect both her master and the only two connections to her humanity.
Find out what they're doing, she planned. Then head them off. Stand between them all and death, and the mere threat of the Black Void will make even the reaper back down.
Or so she hoped.
She would not let them pass to the Superior, she would not let the Superior know of their plan, and in the process all would be spared.
But life had roads that twisted and bended, making even the most neatly written plans susceptible to tears and smudges.
"The place…Naminé and Xion…born," came the fragmented speech through the vent. "It's practically calling out for you."
"Whatever—" As Axel said this Dexné could clearly picture the triumphant smirk on his mouth. "—As far as…castle goes you're…one who really wants to go there. By finding the room… You would find out…about Xemnas's true agenda. Am I right?"
Dexné willed her physical heart to shut up already so she could hear. It was pounding far too loud in her ears.
"The Chamber—" Dexné breathe deep, closing her eyes and latching onto Saïx's voice. "…Xemnas has an agenda he hasn't told anybody… Bound to find clues… And once we obtain those clues we'll have the upper hand for our own objectives."
"I knew the time would come when Vexen and Zexion got in your way. That's why I took the initiative and cleared the way to the top for you…"
Dexné's stomach turned and her forehead touched the floor, the chill of it doing little to soothe a mind that fruitlessly shot neurons from one end to the other, clamoring to find a way to keep peace in the only place that could be called home anymore.
The Organization wasn't supposed to be burning itself from the inside out.
"I'll do all the dirty work. You go all the way to the top."
Stop, she pleaded, Stop.
"You will be going on a solo mission to Castle Oblivion. Expect the orders soon."
Sensing Saïx's exit Dexné shot up. Black spots punched holes in her vision and she unwillingly sank back to her knees, everything in her screaming to get up and get out of there before—
"One more thing…" Saïx continued, and Dexné decompressed with a stifled sigh. "Something will have to be done about Nulla."
Air left her completely, and at long last her heart seemed to stop its incessant beating, freezing over and leaving everything cold and dead. Nothing more could be heard from her systems and nothing else blocked out the voices in the other room.
She listened to every faint word coming through the vent, let what was spoken carve an epitaph on the inside of her skull. When all was said and heard, she rose up like a soundless ghost. Methodical impulsions lead her down the halls, the shadow splayed on the wall at her side marched in tandem. The converses, the information obtained, replayed in her head like the beat of a drum.
"Nulla isn't going to just go away. Steps must be taken now."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Observe her. If she can be used to our advantage then we needn't worry. Otherwise…"
"What do you expect me to do? You can't just walk up to a Voidling and—"
"You've worked with her before. I'm confidant you'll find a way. Besides, Nulla isn't so complicated."
Dexné got to her room, drifted over to her bed, and planted herself face first. Her ever spinning mind had slowed, unsure of what to do or where to go. But it didn't stop, no, it would never stop.
Those cogs wouldn't stop turning until she was dead—an occurrence that might be coming sooner rather than later.
Saïx wasn't stupid. Neither was Axel. Getting to the top was one thing, but if they expected the Luna Diviner to stay on top something had to be done to secure the position.
"You know, it called me liege earlier. That's new."
"A promising start. She'll be an invaluable weapon if she can be harnessed. And if she cannot, she'll be a threat that can't be ignored."
Her interference had been foreseen.
And now, they were planning to intercept.
...
A/N: Bad? Good? Reviews are much loved!