They all just sit and cry.
The poor lover, how strongly he endures,
For they separate him from his beloved.
The sun, when it rises in the morning,
Is like you, boy, when you are near me.
When your dark eye turns upon me,
It drives my reason from my head.
— Neçín of Përmet, son of Ali Pasha Frakulli, mid 19th century; tr. Nicholas Zymaris
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Axel x Roxas
The Sacred Somebody
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Roxas was a stranger to everything. That was that. There was nothing that he completely knew. Nothing truly familiar. Well, except maybe the magic of the hot shower he was about to take….
He was a stranger to the Organization, though, to his new daily rituals, the meetings, the building, the people, and the food in the Mess Hall. When he first donned the black robes and became Number Thirteen he didn't know who it was staring back at him through the mirror. It was like he was losing who he really was; everything about his identity seemed like an ugly smear across the tapestry of reality.
Although it was his reflection, it was somebody Roxas didn't want to be. Somebody he couldn't stand to see there in front of him… Somebody who's eyes sparkled with unfathomable melancholy. Somebody very lonely, forlorn, and in search of something. Lost and alone in this life they call nothing.
Hadn't it always been that way? For Roxas, yes. Everyday was like that. Full of questions. Emptiness. Fear. Sadness. Everytime he haunted himself with a mirror, it resurrected recent histories Roxas knew all too well. Scrounging around the city to scrap a living…. Living outdoors and sleeping in the rain and mud…. Working odd jobs for low pay just to eat for a day… If he didn't earn even a single piece of munny, Roxas starved for the night and sometimes weeks.
Despite how reclusive he tried to be, no matter how isolated he was, his petty existence was a threat to somebody. Even though he never talked to any body he still had enemies. Although Roxas had absolutely nothing worth pilfering the "others" regularly beat him until he could barely move. He would lay helplessly on the ground as a bloody heap, bruises the circumference of a baseball limiting the use of limbs, his deep wounds copiously bleeding as he looked at the stars bleary-eyed as though for an answer. Eventually the hostility of the others got so treacherous Roxas was forced to migrate to the seedier parts of the city, just to live to see another day which he was never sure he'd ever see again.
When he came to his new neighborhood, he would take residence in some dark alley, sleeping in the rain on a bed made of cardboard boxes and dirty torn sheets with pillows of crumbled newspapers and old shoes. Then, life would proceed with an absurd fidelity to repetition.
That was the way of survival he had learned to thrive with. Life had always been as hateful and rough to Roxas since as long he could remember. He never had anything else.
Until that day he met a member of the Organization.
He was chasing a dachshund named Rufus he had been walking for ten munny through the park. The dog's leash had slipped from his hands when Roxas had bent down to tie his shoe. The mischievous little pooch spotted a squirrel and chased it into the woods, disappearing into the darkness. Roxas looked up briskly, only to see the dog's tail flicker into the shadows. He leapt to his feet and ran into the woods, calling Rufus in vain. He ducked and weaved his way through the dense woods, hurdling overgrown roots with amazing agility that he didn't know he possessed. To add on to the situation of the disaster, Roxas had only about two more hours of daylight to search the already-dark woods.
His breath came in shallow pants as his brow dripped with sweat. He felt as though he'd just ran a marathon and was stilling running it. But the woods seemed like they were never going to end. Trees flung themselves at Roxas almost like he were in a state of vertigo and he felt dizzy and light-headed. His stomach ached with hunger. His head throbbed with a migraine as the cold shot straight into Roxas' nostrils, burning ruthlessly with the chilly air. He thighs burned with the exercise, his muscles feeling like gelatin.
He had to rest. He was going to keel over if he didn't sit down. Stumbling a few more feet, Roxas entered a clearing at last. There, in the middle of the clearing, sat a lone stump of a once great oak. It was as tall as Roxas' kneecaps, wide as small swimming pool, and as long as small cot. Roxas soughed in relief, thanking the greater powers that be for a convenient blessing. He slowly lowered himself down onto the stump, loving that it was rather comfy. Almost too comfy. Roxas sighed, his eyelids feeling heavy. He closed his eyes and was met with instantaneous comfort. He was beginning to feel pleasantly drowsy, but he mustn't fall asleep.
Well, maybe a quick little catnap would be fine. Roxas smiled at himself as he lay down on the stump… He felt the impending sleep coming to him. His breathing became deeper and relaxed, his heartbeat turned steady as he listened to the last lullabies of distant songbirds.
Roxas awoke with a jolt in the cold night. He sat upright, eyes wide with the realization that the sun was completely gone from the sky and that the full, golden moon loomed overhead in its place. Roxas glanced about his area. Which way did he come from? All the woods looked exactly the same in the eerie moonlight that poured through the clearing. Roxas calmed down, becoming more aware of the drop in the temperature around him as he saw his breath in the frigid night air.
He brought his hands to his face and inclined on his knees as he sat there shaking off the last groggy bits of slumber. Once he gathered all of his pieces Roxas stood up from the stump and stretched his limbs, yawning while shivering. Goosebumps traveled up along his spine and neck as his teeth started to chatter.
Why had the winder descended so quickly? Roxas swore it was only the first day of autumn yesterday, remembering how he raked up the gold, brown and maroon leaves in somebody's back yard for fifteen munny. His hands still bore the blisters of that labor.
Roxas shuddered from the intensifying cold. He crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing his forearms with his palms.
The moonlight glowed across the ground like sapphirine ice, frost twinkling off leaves and other parts of the woods that made up the clearing. Roxas, although disoriented from sleep, randomly decided which direction he would boldly go.
He used the moon as a guiding orb of light in the sky, following it wherever it led him. Hopefully, back towards the city. True, only part of Roxas wanted to go back to the unloving streets. The otherside of him wished that the lunar sphere had plotted out a much more hospitable destination than the loathsome cement jungle.
No matter. He was obliged to accept whatever path lay before him.
Roxas stepped his way through the forest, cautiously proceeding with absolute stealth.
This isn't the direction I came from.
Roxas was standing at the end of the wood, far away from any sign of city life. The moon hung low in the sky, almost like it was about to drop onto the lush green field Roxas found himself in. The horizon seemed closer to the ground, now that nothing obstructed it from its earth brother. A ribbon of stars, peppering the cloak of velvet midnight, seemed to be kissing the waves of the vast emerald sea of grass that sprawled out beyond his feet, farther than Roxas could see.
It was like being in the middle of a tranquil nowhere, surrounding by nature and enraptured by continual silence.
Roxas had never been in such a place. He had always been in amidst the thunder of modern life, with the jostling of the morning business men arguing over cellphones and the chaotic noise of rush hour, when all the cars started lining up and the people started bickering. The almost divine respite from the pain of everyday life was a blessing Roxas would forever hold dear. He closed his eyes, tilting his head upwards as he inhaled the freshest air ever to fill his lungs.
The mood of relaxation was quickly destroyed when a loud snapping of a stick in the woods aroused Roxas' senses. His ears gave a little perk as he tossed his head about his shoulders to check. His eyes scanned the bulky darkness behind him that shrank in the immense moonlight. Nothing was there.
Then there was a sharp rustling of wind that tore Roxas' attentions away from the shadowy wood back at the moonlit field.
Roxas' heart jumped violently in his throat as he partially failed to suppress a gasp.
Before him was a man, in a black hooded robe that seemed to meld effortlessly with the night sky horizon. The hood was drawn. Roxas couldn't see his face.
"Who…who are you?" Roxas asked, his voice wavering slightly.
The man in black hunched his back like a wild cat, shoulders flexing as he forcefully flung his arms out to his sides, the small silver charms on his pull-strings tinkling softly. His gloved fingers curled back, his hands resembling claws of a nightmare creature.
Roxas stiffened in awareness.
"Defend yourself."
"Huh?" Roxas was thunderstruck. Did he just say something?
The ominous figure cracked his fingers once and two rings of fire spiraled into existence from nothingness, one mysterious ring in each of his palms.
What are those things?
The living shadow jerked awkwardly, striking a pose with his weird bladed weapon.
There was a pause. Roxas stopped breathing.
Before Roxas could make a fist at his side, the cloaked figure blurred across the night sky like heat waves rising from the desert sands. The mirage blended all at once and the man was gone in a flash.
Roxas instinctively crouched, raising his palm up and out away from his body as a sort of defensive. The invisible man suddenly reappeared above Roxas no later than half a second after Roxas went down, bringing his bladed ring down like Thor's hammer.
Roxas quickly shut his eyes, fearing the impact. His fingers twitched and he felt the weapon hit something hard that he now clasped. Something like a rod….
Roxas opened his eyes suddenly there was a strange item in his grasp. A large sword-like key-shaped object with a yellow hilt with a keychain and silver blade, glittering with sparks of light.
"What? What is this thing?" Roxas exclaimed.
The hooded man bounced back a few feet and stood in a spontaneous limp fighting stance that made Roxas think of a marionette on strings.
"It's the Keyblade," The man hissed, his voice stinging Roxas on the inside like acid. "And it's time you learned how to…." He leapt forward, brandishing his unique weaponry elegantly across his chest. "…USE IT!"
Roxas blocked the hooded figure with the whole of the Keyblade and then slashed forward, clenching the hilt tightly. He twirled the Key with unknown skill and then charged at the stunned man for no true reason. Roxas felt like he was losing himself to this man – not the battle, but rather his identity. He exploded with a war cry he never knew he had in him, his eyes flaring dangerously with furious determination. What was happening to him?
The man slashed upwards and knocked the Keyblade back a few inches. The hooded shadow caught Roxas across the chest, creating a bleeding gash that soaked blood through his shirt. Roxas recoiled slightly and then retaliated quickly, jabbing the man in the gut with a quick evasive spin on his feet to dodge the blow and then strike back. Roxas rose his Keyblade and brought it down in vertical slices, five times in fast succession against the bladed rings that were held up in a block. He then changed patterns and added a sudden horizontal slash that the man scarcely missed. Roxas jerked up to thrust the blade at the man's shoulder. The man sidestepped in time to miss him, catching Roxas by Keyblade's staff with one of his bladed rings' midsection and then twisting upwards, flinging Roxas aside along with his weapon.
Roxas soared through the air in backflips and then went down – hard. His Keyblade landing beside him, he crashed to the ground, landing painfully on his shoulder, his knees knocking together as they hit the dirt, and his head bouncing. He heard something crack, felt something crunch. He yelped in agony, inhaling through clenched teeth. His chest felt constricted as he breathed, whimpering and panting from the combat high. Pain racked Roxas' body, searing through him like javelins with most shockwaves focused in the middle of Roxas' shoulder that took a beating and the gash across his chest. Roxas tried to get up but was too weak and in so much agony that moving a single inch felt like hell. He must've fractured something, maybe even broke it.
Roxas was in tears. Once more he felt helpless, lying in front of his attacker like fresh meat.
The moon was gone and the stars were dissolving into gold and crimson streaks as rays of sun shone over the forest. The last sunrise… this was the end. His tears silently rolled down his cheeks as once more he felt the calls of slumber beckoning to him.
"You did well for your first time," The hooded figure said, almost as though he was trying to comfort him. The once acidic tone seemed softer. "Don't cry, Roxas."
Roxas let go of the present moment. He blacked out.
How do you know my name?
The morning was unforgiving. The light burned Roxas'eyes as they slowly fluttered open. He winced as he used his eyes alone to take in his surroundings.
A white room. A white bed. White bloodstained bandages across his naked chest, also wrapping his extremely painful shoulder. He noticed he wasn't in his clothes from yesterday. He was wearing black jeans and nothing that remained of his daily rags.
Somebody had changed his clothes.
His eyesight was still a bit blurry as he saw a black humanoid-shape standing before him. He wearily struggled to sit up on his elbow, feeling an awareness zap through him when he tried to sit up all the way. He sucked air through his teeth in an expression of pain that brought his surveyor's attention to him.
"You move, and it will hurt more than it needs to." His voice sent chills through Roxas' body that made his wounds twitch, sending an uncomfortable twinge from his fractured shoulder. "You have been through much."
"Where…am I?" Roxas managed to say before a wave of pain shot through him, impeding his speech. "Ahh—"
"Where you belong, Roxas, with those who are exactly like you." The man drawled, with a hypnotic sort of tone floating about his words.
"What?" Roxas shook his head to get rid of the remainder of his deep sleep. Before him stood a black-robed man, without his hood on. Roxas could not imagined how this man did it, but he noticed that stranger had almost a golden highlight to his tan flesh. Roxas marveled at the sight of the man's naturally silver hair that trailed a few inches below his shoulders, three locks of hair standing up like wispy, feathery peacock crests on his head. But what drew in Roxas was the fact the man was inspecting him intently with almost feral orange eyes that resembled a demon's.
"Ever wondered why you were so different? Why you never fit in? Why you were always so alone?"
Roxas glanced off at the floor fixedly. He nodded solemnly.
The man almost smirked. "I have all the answers, Roxas. For one thing, I already know your name."
Roxas looked up at the enigmatic man. "Who are you?"
"I am Xemnas, Leader of the Organization." Xemnas said, simply yet with a fierce power that made Roxas think of a lion's roar. "I have come to set you free from the suffering you once called your life."
Outside his memories, Roxas slowly undressed in the quiet and deserted men's showering room. He unzipped his billowing black robe and slid it off his arms, dropping it in a pile by his towel on the bench. He pulled off his black gloves by the fingers and tossed them aside on top his robe. He yanked off his ebony long sleeved shirt, letting it float to the floor at his feet. His chest was still wrapped in bandages with dark crimson splotches and his shoulder still tingled in slight discomfort.
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in serenity. He was feeling lighter, like he had just lifted a large weight off his shoulder.
Roxas opened his eyes while he began to unbutton his black pants. He looked up into one of the high windows that lined the walls. The full moon was a sliver pearl again, much like the moon the day he had arrived at the Organization. He couldn't believe it. A full moon meant that it had been twenty-eight days since he became Number Thirteen. Exactly four weeks as a noob. Four weeks of having a second chance. Four weeks to prove himself.
Four weeks of loneliness. That was one thing that still needed to change. Most of the older members ignored him since he was the new guy, while others didn't even know he existed. He still had no friends but at least he didn't have enemies.
That he knew of, anyway.
The moon's shine had Roxas feeling oddly entranced.
Something was going to happen. A big change in his life. All thanks to the moon.
The moon, after all, was the only light in the whole washroom. The brilliant lunar orb spilled blue light on all the showerheads that protruded out of the walls. With the light illuminating the washroom in whole, Roxas was reminded exactly why he was about to take a shower at ten thirty-seven at night.
The way everything was arranged left no margin for privacy. Everybody stood abreast of each other in close quarters and there was nothing separating them from one another. You could stand on one side of the row, tilt your head slightly, and with your peripheral vision see roughly six examples of adult male virility.
Roxas didn't appreciate anyone watching him taking a shower. It felt to him like he was being judged. Measured. Compared and contrasted.
It was seriously uncomfortable for him, and he'd rather no be placed in such situations.
When Roxas found out that all members of the Organization were to report to bed at ten p.m. sharp, he was relieved. Finally he could avoid the stares of the other men while not being too suspicious.
Roxas gave the moon a smile as he took off his pants and stripped off his boxers. He quickly kicked off his boots and shed his socks. He was now completely nude, except for the bloody bandages he carefully began unraveling. The gauze fabric gently inched across his tender wound, the flesh sore from the onset of an infection he had been fighting for the last few days. His chest bore a large gaping gash that was a scabbed mass along the sides and an aqueous deep crimson in the middle of it, with spots of yellowish pus that inhabited the edges of his itchy scabs. The wound was a dark and gruesome sight, and Roxas felt shamed by it because it was another reason that he avoided showering with the others.
It was a reminder of his weakness, a warning of how easily he could be victimized.
He didn't want anybody to know about it and the only people who knew about it would be the actual person who struck the blow and probably Xemnas. Maybe not Xemnas, but he saw Roxas in bandages so he was included.
Roxas removed the rest of the gauze from his shoulder and laid the bandages with the rest of his clothing on the pile on the bench. He looked down at his body and arms, noticing the moonlight was giving him an ethereal radiance, almost like the aura of an otherworldly existence. The sight made him feel empowered with an unknown energy surging through him. It felt like the moonlight gave him power, as though he could soak up the moon's glow and be healed to full health.
In happy solitude, Roxas walked over to the shower behind him. He reached out, turned the singular knob clockwise for a hot shower, and then pulled out. The water rushed out of the showerhead with a steamy cascade that splashed onto Roxas' head and shoulders, tendrils of warmth curling around his waist and legs and splattering onto the tiled floor.
The heat was intense, like a cleansing fire that burned across his flesh, turning it ruddy, warming his every inch. The steam cleared Roxas' nose as he breathed in the invisible scent of hot water. He closed his eyes, reveling in the hot patter of water prickling across his infected wound, down his chest and neckline. He felt his hair grow limp in the downpour, feeling his own spikes bow underneath the power of the flowing water as they fell across his brows wantonly. He reached his hands up and cupped his face, catching water and then slicking his wilted spikes back.
Roxas felt all his troubles wash away in the water flow, watching them leave him forever in tornadoes going down the drain at his feet.
The door to the washroom squeaked opened, then slammed thunderously.
Roxas jumped at the noise, his eyes wide with dull fear.
No! I've been found out!
He frantically began searching the room for an escape route when he heard something else.
"Hey," A voice. So oddly familiar.
Roxas tried to wipe his fears away and disguise them as bold intrigue. It mostly worked.
Roxas was incredulous. Someone else was here to take a late night shower? No, he was the only one. Everybody else bathed together except that one female…. At least that's what he thought.
He turned his head, forgetting that his eyes might reveal how timid he truly felt. He was a bit thrown off when he saw a tall man staring at him dumbfoundedly. Roxas felt translucent when the man's vibrant green eyes, speckled with flecks of blue, narrowed softly at the sight of him standing there equally shocked. His complexion reminded Roxas of a marble statue sculpted with expertise, topped with a unique spiked hairstyle of flaming crimson that stuck out like the rays of an artistic Aztec sun.
Roxas had never seen someone so different from all the others. Everything about this man seemed to clash with the basic image Roxas had sketched about all members of the Organization. The man's almond-shaped eyes were naturally adorned with delicate upturned lashes that gave them an elegant, exotic and angular look. The rest of the man screamed of bold audacity; Roxas noticed he had two small, black vertical dashes painted under each eye, bringing to mind suspended teardrops.
The man broke out into a grin. "Guess I'm not the only one up past their bedtime."
"Y-yeah…." Roxas tore his gaze away from the stranger. What had gotten into him? It was impolite to stare, but yet…. Roxas didn't really consider different being the new beautiful. He was always different and ashamed because of it. But this man…. This man seemed like he had nothing to fear with nothing to lose, like he could care less about everything. He was fearless. Bold. Didn't give a damn what others thought of him.
Roxas envied his courage.
The man immediately started stripping off his all black clothing, without any shame that Roxas was standing right there. Even the man in the nude was bold; he had a pierced nipple, battle scars, stitches, and red-black gothic tattoos of strange designs all across his hardened, well-defined pectoral and abdominal muscles. Roxas' mouth drooped slightly agape at the sight of the stranger's firm deltoids, biceps, and triceps that gave him a chiseled appeal. Although the awkward desire was there, he dared not look at the full detail of the mythic god's powerful thighs, no matter how muscular and tense.
Roxas shook himself out of his admiration of the beautifully different man.
What the hell am I doing?
He turned away from the redheaded stranger, keeping his back towards him. He adverted his gaze. He didn't want to look back into those eyes again and turn green from envy over the fact that he was insecure and the fellow Organization member dared the world to say anything about him.
"Man, I've been up all night!" The redhead yawned, placing his pile of garments on the bench only a few paces from Roxas' stuff. "Y'know, late night studying and such is enough to make you drill a hole in your skull for entertainment."
Roxas slowly nodded his head in agreement.
The stranger turned on the shower one down from Roxas and started up the water on the hottest setting. Steam engulfed him, surrounding him as his Aztec sun spikes lost volume and flattened, giving the man somewhat long hair and a bittersweet overtone of androgyny.
Roxas kept to himself as he started soaping his arms up, avidly trying to banish thoughts of the redheaded androgyne's rippling muscles and seemingly divine body.
The green-eyed intruder eyed Roxas ponderously. The adolescent's face was the saddest thing he had ever seen. He knew he caught the corner of his eye when the boy granted him an intent glimpse with deep sapphire orbs, as though he were trying to inspect him without him knowing. The man smiled. How cute.
"You're the new kid right?" The stranger asked, voiced peaked with interest.
"Mmmm-hmm…" Roxas nodded.
"Name's Axel," The man thrusted his hand out for a hand shake. "Yours?"
"Roxas…"
"Roxas..." Axel repeated, flicking his tongue across his lips as though tasting the sound of his name. "Fabulous having you on the team."
Roxas turned to Axel, then timidly gave his hand a weak little shake. "Uh, great to be here."
Axel's eye gave a slight twitch of intrigue. "Excellent…" When Roxas let go, Axel found himself suddenly wanting to be his friend. The moment their fingers slipped apart Axel felt something inside him flinch. "Yeah, there's some things you'll have to get used to and—–" His eyes drifted from Roxas' blue gems down his neck like quicksilver. Suddenly he gasped from the sight of Roxas' healing wound. "What happened to your chest?"
Roxas snapped out of his thoughts of admiration and envy.
No!
Abruptly he brought his arms over his chest, trying to hide the wound like a nude woman shielding her breasts from peeping toms. A hot blush burned under his eyes as he looked away from Axel over to the benches. He squeezed himself tightly as he closed his eyes in acute shame.
"I…" He stammered feebly. "I was in a fight and… I lost."
Axel's eyebrows furrowed with a shock resembling fear. "Lemme see." He murmured, mostly to himself. He slowly reached out towards Roxas' arms.
"No!" Roxas squirmed away from Axel's long, slender fingers as they wrapped around his wrist. He suddenly felt warmth burning across his flesh; A rippling heat licking at him like a raging fire, frightening him as his mind poured with images of red flames burning on the dark horizon; a whole forest of trees being consumed in flames.
"Let me take a look!" Axel shoved Roxas' hands aside, Roxas obliging with a whimper.
The images were gone.
Axel gasped at the horrible sight of Roxas' infected scabbed mass forming a diagonal slash across his chest. He couldn't believe it… Here, this boy had been carrying on with his new recruit training all this time, with a wound that kept reopening. This boy had been caring for it this whole time. On his own. Without stitches.
Axel, all though feeling bad for the boy, was impressed.
"You need to clean out the infection," said Axel. He hunched down to Roxas' level, his eyes fixed. He started gingerly brushing the tips of his fingers along the linearity of the cut. Roxas' flesh flinched from his touch, feeling like he was drawing nearer and nearer a lit candle. He sucked air through his teeth as Axel prodded the darker crimson.
Axel continued exploring the inside of the wound, careful not to reopen the gigantic scab. "I suggest you take some antibiotics and maybe you should take some daily vitamin supplements. That should help this heal faster."
"Ah—!" Roxas gasped. Axel gently began scraping the edges of the wound with his immaculate fingernails. Even though it was slightly painful, the wound's itch was melting away. Soon Roxas found himself ignoring the pain and enjoying the relief of Axel scratching his painful itch.
"Roxas," Axel said, looking back into his eyes and standing straight.
Roxas met his gaze with moist eyes agleam as he jarred out of the misty ravine of sensation. "Yes?"
"Be careful next time there's a fight."
"Huh?"
"Don't your guard down, but," Axel started to smile. "if you don't think you can do it alone…You can always go find me. I'll be your friend when there are only enemies."
Roxas blinked in astonishment. Was Axel for real? A friend when there are only enemies? What the heck was that supposed to mean? Whatever. All Roxas knew for sure was that he had just made a friend.
His life was changing. It was already better.
Thanks to the moon.
Roxas smiled, his face aglow. "T-thank you, Axel…I-I've never had a friend before."
"Well then I'm the lucky first!"
Roxas and Axel shared a hearty laugh, as Roxas felt his eyes burn with tears of joy for the first in his life. Happy tears. The kind one should always cry.
Axel beamed at the sight of tearful Number Thirteen smiling with silent tears trickling down his pink cheeks. Those were the words he wanted to say since he saw Roxas at the acceptance ceremony that commemorated him becoming Number Thirteen. Then, Roxas was a distant and drifting soul, lost to the present. He seemed so mellow, so hallowed inside, Axel knew he needed a friend.
In fact, Axel was pretty much the same way when he first joined, but that was long ago. He felt a strange connection to the newest member, like he could completely relate to him. Like he understood the adolescent's thoughts, his swirling loneliness.
Roxas looked into Axel's eyes; his sapphires ignited some sort of fire in Axel's emeralds. His smile warmed Axel's innards, filling the void that ate away at him.
Axel hadn't felt this way before. It was new… It was alien…It felt like—if his memory wasn't failing him—like having a heart again.
Roxas was Axel's heart from that day on.
The door slammed open with a bang. The two odd ducks snapped their heads up to see another man running into the shower like a crazed blur.
"Woooooooo!" The man tore off his clothes, flung them at the walls, and twisted on the shower between Axel and Roxas. He vigorously began scrubbing his hair, sighing loudly with cleansed relief. "Wooooaaaahhhh, yeah!" He slicked his limp hair back and smiled a toothy open-mouthed snarl at Axel. "Dude! Were you at the party? Man, there were all these chicks in the itsy-bitsy bikinis! Bar-be-que! Booze!"
Axel gave an annoyed smirk that twisted his face horribly. "Noooo, unlike some drunken dip-tard I know, I was busy studying for the JPSTs!"
Roxas twitched an eyebrow. " 'JPST'?"
"Job Placement Standardized Test. Makes sure that everybody knows their job and how to do it." Axel replied, eyeing the blond-headed man before him with vex. "If you fail, they eliminate you from the Organization."
Roxas gulped nervously.
Axel smiled. "No worries, buddy. You're still green. That means you're safe until after three months of quote unquote employment." He made a gesture with two peace signs that resembled quotation marks. "You're off the hook for now."
"Geez, Axel," the rowdy blonde rolled his eyes. "You're the last guy I'd ever think actually cared about grades."
"I don't." said Axel. "It's just I don't plan on my ass being grass."
The blonde sputtered his lips, splashing Axel with spit. "Puh-leeeaasseee, they're not gonna can me."
"Watch' em." Axel snapped. His eyes flashed dangerously.
"Yeaaahhh, right," The drunkard hazily glanced around, giggling stupidly. His drunken smirk melted clear off his face at the sight of the blushing little boy standing behind him. "Hey, who's this guy?"
"The new kid on the block, Roxas," Axel answered with an indescribable air to his words that chilled Roxas' guts. For some reason Roxas felt uncomfortable in under the redhead's heated gaze.
The slightly inebriated giggle box simpered. "Well, ain't it a pleasure?" He had a delayed blink. "I'm Demyx. Maybe you've heard of me?"
Roxas shook his head. "No, sorry."
Demyx gave a shallow frown. "Damn, guess you're a virgin—"
What! Of course I'm a virgin! Just because I'm alone in the shower, with an older man late at night, with his hands on my chest, doesn't mean we boinked!
"—It's sad you don't know how great I am. I'll have to give the one-oh-one about my musical greatness! Trust me, you'll never forget your first time!"
Whew! That's a relief! Wait…what?
"Yeah, I could whip it out right now and show you how to play with it!"
Roxas wasn't about to admit that the inebriated blondie was scaring him. "Uh, excuse… me…?"
Axel firmly placed his hand on Demyx's shoulder. "Ahhhh, Demyx, you don't need to do that. He doesn't need to see you play the devil's clarinet."
"Huh?" Roxas blinked. I don't wanna learn how to play with my—!
"But it's reaaaaallllyyyy easy! He could learn –" Demyx snapped his fingers. "—like that!"
Axel snickered. That wasn't what I was talking about…
"Easy as pie, I'm sure, but look. Just look, look -- look at him. LOOK AT HIM." Axel grabbed Demyx by the shoulders, shook him a bit, and then turned around to face a blushing Roxas, who turned his face away from the sight of Demyx's man sausage. "Does he honestly look like he's got even the raw skill you had as a newb?"
"Uhhhhhh—" Demyx droned.
"I'll take that as a no."
Demyx nodded. His eyes dropped to Roxas. Then, his sluggish thinking process suddenly got his brain juices churning. "Hey!" He exclaimed, rather unnecessarily. "I could give you music lessons, Roxas! We could then be buddies and really wow the crowd as a killer duet!"
Why is he trying to be my friend?
"S-sure, Demyx. Sounds cool," Roxas smiled. He tried to look at him with one eye opened and avoiding the fact that Demyx was slightly taller than he was.
Roxas ignored Demyx and grabbed the bottle of generic brand-X shampoo off the community shelf, squirting a decent amount in his palm and slapping onto his scalp. He began lathering it into a mountain of bubbles, in total disbelief that he had friends. The first ever. Dude, it was like a dream Roxas didn't want to wake up from.
But he would wake up someday.
Axel leaned to the side from Demyx's back. "Hey, could you hand me the shampoo?" He asked, quickly adding, "Please?"
Roxas grabbed the bottle. "Here you go."
Axel took it. "Thanks."
Roxas nodded, rinsing out the soap from his hair.
"Say, Roxas." Demyx mused.
"Yeah?"
"Do you drink?"
"N-no…I'm only fifteen."
"Watch porn?"
"No! Who do you think I am?" Roxas snapped, blushing. "I'm just a kid from the streets! You actually think I have access to that kind of stuff?"
"Hmmm…." Demyx frowned slightly. "I guess you're more of a virgin than I thought." He paused. "I'm going to break you in, starting tonight."
"WHAT?" screeched Roxas. "Dude, that's just wrong!"
"Roxas, chill baby. Take a pill." Axel said, nonchalantly rinsing out his shampoo from his hair. "He's talking about making you a man, not picking your cherry."
"M-m-my cherry?" Roxas was flabbergasted. "Wha-what's that?"
"Your virginity." Axel said it like was nothing, like something said over a cup of coffee.
Roxas felt his stomach drop to his ankles. Suddenly, he flushed red and hastily shut his shower off.
Axel snorted slightly at Roxas walking off. "Man, you're so easy."
He shot him a look that made Axel swallow his tongue.
Roxas glared…and then grinned. "It's been a blast, but I think I've wasted enough water," He said, snatching up his towel and drying his hair.
Axel smiled at the sight of Roxas' spikes attaining their regular volume. He liked how his spikes swept off like feathered wisps in an upward-counterclockwise style, like the wings of a pinwheel. The moonlight gave his cocoa-blonde a mesmerizing glow that Axel found rather alluring.
Roxas wrapped the towel around his waist, gathering his clothes up his arms. He waved at Number Eight and Nine. "See you later!"
The other members turned around to bid farewell.
Demyx grinned. "Yup! Later!"
Axel nodded his head. "Tomorrow?"
For what?" asked Roxas.
"I dunno…. Stuff?" Axel shrugged. "Uh…Arcade?"
Roxas was confused. "We're allowed to do that kind of stuff?"
Demyx shrank. He hissed at Axel, "Ooooohhhh noooo, you're not actually thinking you're—"
Axel's eyes wandered around the ceiling. "Not really…"
"Will we get in trouble?" asked Roxas.
Axel felt a triple dozen needles poke his skin. He couldn't lie, not to a face like that… "Yeah…" He replied, nervously. "But! That's only if they find out!"
"'If'?" Roxas repeated, his eyebrow cocked.
"If…! If is good!" Axel perked.
"I don't know…." Roxas held his chin in thought.
"Hey, if you have plans, y'know, I understand –it was a bit impromptu…" Axel said. "I mean, I've still got studies to get over with, but after I crack the book spines I don't have much else… So…I was wondering…"
Roxas replied with a beam. "Sure! What else can I do? I haven't gotten any orders from the top so I'm free until we rendezvous for PT."
Demyx inserted, "That's a whole week from now…" He grabbed Axel by the hair.
"AH!" Axel was pulled to the corner, gritting his teeth in discomfort.
"Excuse us for a second…." Demyx grinned, ushering Axel over to the wall where the water was still running.
"Yeah, sure." Roxas nodded. He would wait patiently.
Over in the corner, Demyx let go of Axel's flattened spikes. Axel immediately flung himself in Demyx's face, spazzing out.
"What was that for?" He barked, low so that Roxas couldn't hear him.
Demyx shoved a finger at Axel's nose. "Don't…" He jabbed him with his finger. "…get too friendly with the boy."
"Why not? He's lonely."
Axel feared the sight of Demyx's opal blue eyes becoming lidded. He was regarding him with an odd look, looking very skeptical of Axel's reply. More like excuse.
Demyx heaved a sigh. His tone and gaze softened. "But you and I both know what he can do… what with the otherside of him still running about, swinging that Keyblade like it's a toy."
Axel rolled his eyes.
Demyx grabbed him by the shoulders. "He's a threat, Axel!"
Axel wasn't amused. His eyebrows inclined. His green-blue emeralds narrowed slightly. His once warm voice became hard and spicy, like white-hot iron pressing to flesh. "That's some talk coming from a suddenly sober drunk."
"I mean it!" Demyx's face flashed with unyielding determination. "Getting close to him means letting down your guard. You honestly think he's completely forgotten about his other?"
Axel's eyes shifted downwards, reflecting a side of the fire demon many never knew existed. Solemn. Sincere. Zealous.
"You're just going to have to learn to trust him." He spoke his words with silent passion. "I do."
Axel closed his eyes as he felt his cheeks becoming warm.
Demyx looked like he had just been slapped across the face. His eyes quivered slightly as the shock of Axel's words, of him blushing. He was aghast.
"Axel…." Demyx said, almost pacifyingly and yet at the same time full of disbelief. "No, you can't. Not so soon…. Don't tell me you—" Demyx's words faded when he noticed how Axel was reacting. He tried to force himself a laugh but it died in a split second.
Axel never looked Demyx in the face. He sighed in surrender. He brought his hand up to his neck, closing his eyes. "I don't have the memories of it because it's never happened to me before, but I think this is what it must be like."
Demyx paled. His eyes sunk into his pallid visage.
"Nooooo. No, no. Axel, it just doesn't make sense…. How can you… Seriously? Really?" He snorted, curling his lips. "Today you tripped over him?" Demyx arched his eyebrows, clearly worried for his superior and friend.
Axel shook his head. "No. The day I first saw him, I fell flat on my face."
Roxas stood there, keeping his word. He would wait patiently for his elders to decide what was best for him. He loved the idea that people were actually caring for him in the sense that he had always played the parent in his own life for so long. He would eagerly do anything his elders asked of him, especially if one of those elders happened to Axel.
Roxas found himself silently pledging loyalty to the beautifully different man with the head of fire and eyes of precious green gemstones. To him, Axel seemed like a candle in the darkness, lending him light in the darkest parts of the world. He found his glow the perfect source of light. He would only survive his second chance of life by not being alone, and he preferred being led by the hand by a kind veteran of the way things worked. Axel seemed so cock-sure on everything. The way he spoke of the future three months Roxas would endure brimmed with confidence, something Roxas truly admired.
Yes, here he would wait for the elders to finish discussing his future, whatever events Axel and Demyx foretold for him. He felt the seed of loyalty Axel had implanted inside him begin to grow.
Waiting…. He would always wait for the man who was unobtainably unique. He had no problems with that.
No matter what. He made that promise then.
He kept that promise until the end.
Why is it so private? I wanna eavesdrop, but they're right there in front of me. It would be way too obvious…right? Not to mention the lowest of low. And I don't want to go so low they won't recognize me…
Over by Demyx, Axel nodded his head. Demyx started talking in an inaudible twitter, gesticulating and closing his eyes to emphasize his point. Axel's eye wandered away from Number Nine and looked dead at Roxas.
A slow smile took flight on his face.
Roxas smiled back.
Demyx snapped forward at Axel and he wiped the smile off his face, giving him his full attention.
After a few more minutes, Axel and Demyx returned from the corner and returned to their places under the cascade of the showerheads that were still on, pouring cold water instead of hot.
Man, I'm glad I won't be charged with the high water bill.
Axel rubbed his palms together. "Alrighty, it's decided. Roxas, you and I will be playing hooky."
"And I will be your cover-up! I'll watch your backs while you have some fun." Demyx asserted, pointing at his own chest with his thumb. "You can count on me."
Roxas nodded. "Right." He turned to Axel, and asked, "What time?"
Axel panicked. "Opps. We didn't plan that."
"How 'bout after lunch?"
"That'll work."
Roxas smiled. "I'll be waiting…"
The next day, they were serving cheeseburgers and French fries, with a sliced dill pickle and a bag of potato chips and a can of Pepsi. Roxas grimaced. His stomach was beating the crap out of him.
Did Axel say I could eat?
If that fiery redhead was planning to eat somewhere else, Roxas didn't want to spoil his plans. That's just plain mean. He sat at his table alone, looking into his squiggly reflection that shone across the freshly cleaned table.
Lord knows how hungry he was. It hurt so bad to be hungry, after twenty-nine days of a full belly. He forgot how it felt to be starving again.
Roxas laid his forehead. He was trying to ignore his stomach pains.
And he was failing. Terribly.
A rustle before him; the feeling of weight rocking the table. Roxas tilted his head slightly.
Demyx took the seat in front of him, sliding his lunch tray over.
"Hay-lo! Dude," He took his hand and felt Roxas' forehead. "You don't look so good. You feeling alright?"
"…Not really."
"Hmmm…I wonder what it could be…" Demyx mused, taking the first delicious bite of his cheeseburger and scratching his cheek with his other hand.
The sight made Roxas cringe.
Bastard...
The next minute a blond-haired woman walked up to the table. She was another member of the Organization and Roxas swore her bangs looked like thunderbolts.
"Hey, Demyx… Why aren't you sitting with me and the other guys?"
Demyx swallowed his bite. "Ahhh, I decided to vary my crowds. Y'know, I wanna surround my self with diversity."
The chick rolled her eyes.
"Well, don't get absorbed with hanging out with losers. Don't want you infected by the green." She sneered, her piercing glare causing Roxas to forget to breathe.
A cruel grin unfolded on her pale face.
"See ya," She walked off.
"Later Larxene."
Roxas suddenly breathed in deeply. "Man, that lady scares me."
"She scares a lot of people. The only person she never scared was Axel." He chomped again. "Amb wet me pell ya, that man's got bwalls." He said with food in his mouth.
Roxas' face screwed up with confusion. "What?"
Demyx gulped his cheeseburger down. "I said, that man's got balls."
I would expect him to.
Demyx perked up, eyes following a figure behind Roxas' head.
"Speak of the devil."
Axel sat down next to Roxas.
"Hey guys wuzz'sup?" He grinned as he slid his tray by his friends, then changed moods at the sight of Roxas. "What happened to you?"
"I'm…so…hungry…."
Axel made a face. He pushed his tray over to Demyx. "Here."
"Fanks!" said Demyx, another bite of cheeseburger in his mouth.
Axel arched his eyebrows with amusement. "I'll treat you to lunch, Roxas. But let me ask you something: Do you like icecream?"
--
;I own nothing but the situations I control.
TBC