Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters in this fic. Not making any money, just doing it for the fun of writing. The only thing I own is the plotline.

A/N: I know, this has to be the most random pairing I've ever written (possibly), but the story idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. If you have a problem with one tiny Saïx/Demyx OneShot...That's your problem, not mine. Just don't read it. Oh, and as a note in case you haven't noticed yet, this is does contain Shonen-ai. Don't like, don't read.

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The moon is so alluring in its silent majesty; floating, ever out of reach, yet a constant and almost painful reminder of their precious goals.

Kingdom Hearts, eternally waiting for them, yet never opening its doors to them. Not until they are gone from this world, no longer marring its surface with their presence.

So often, Saïx will sit up on the roof, watching it. Always searching that shining light for answers. But he never finds them, not one.

And it tears at his mind, and the heart he doesn't have. If it is true that he cannot feel, why is it that this pain is so true in reality?

Sometimes, it becomes too much for his psyche to bear, and the beastly rage that he normally conceals comes flooding through to the surface. It tells him to lash out at those around him, and he obeys it without question - he cannot control it, as it controls him.

During these fits of rage, the others avoid him like a plague-ridden parasite. Saïx can't blame them; he loses his very sense of self in his tempers, and can only recall hazily any details of those times.

But something has begun to change, ever since he first heard the music playing.

At first, it was little more than a few simple notes, strung together in a series supposed to resemble a melody. They were played again and again, as Saïx sat half-listening, and focusing his gaze upon the silvery-white moon.

From there, it slowly grew into something more.

Now, as the strumming notes reach his ears, they form a song. He has heard it so many times, some part of his logic insists that he should have memorized it by now.

But each night as he listens, some small piece of the song is always changed. At times, notes are moved or altered; others, the music continues long past the point it ended the previous night.

After some time, Saïx discovers where the music comes from. He finds that if he leans just a bit forward, and looks down and in toward wall of the castle, he can see the edge of a small balcony. It seems inconsequential at first glance, if not for the solitary figure sitting there.

He recognizes the blonde hair that is outlined by moonlight from the ninth member's initiation, but the face looks distinctly different from the one he saw then, or the laughing, joking one he sees during the day.

Demyx's eyes are closed as he easily picks out one note after the other on his sitar. His expression is unreadable, but his motions are fluid, his fingers brushing gently over the instrument's strings like the water he controls as his element.

The notes, as they are so perfectly strummed, each in tune with the next, seem to form a story. It is soft and gentle, speaking to Saïx's ears of something beautiful - a world full of happiness, light, and that mysterious emotion that has been forbidden to those of the Organization: love.

But for some reason, the unspoken words of the song are sad. There is a distinctly mournful quality to their tone which lasts from the time the first of their voices sound, to the last, drawn out piece of the melody.

Saïx wonders if the sadness is there because, like him, Demyx has never seen such a world as the one his song so vividly portrays. He is sure, on some unconscious level, that the blonde knows very well what the individual tones are speaking of.

And he knows, just as Demyx does, that such a world is not for them to see.

Often, when the last reverberations of sound leave the night air, and all is quiet, Saïx watches as Demyx leans over his sitar, hunched in upon himself. And always, his shoulders shake with the sobs of what the elder knows only too well to one of the sole emotions of a Nobody.

Sorrow, and despair.

For many nights, Saïx watches this, unconsciously knowing that if he had a heart, it would be viciously torn at the sight. But his heart is gone, and what is left of him cannot feel that way.

Yet the night Demyx first realizes he is there, and both pairs of glowing eyes meet as the blonde looks up at the shadow watching over him, a change occurs. Something that might be a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, as he goes back to playing, now aware of his near-invisible audience.

From that night on, Demyx does not cry so much anymore.

And then, another day when his memory of the time is halved by the anger. He snaps, and can remember nothing but a brief flash of Demyx's frightened face staring back at him.

That night, as he sits watching the moon overhead, something is wrong. His mind waits for the inevitable first strain of music on the night air - but it does not come. For a long time, he lingers atop the roof, for once concentrating more on listening than on the glowing light in the night sky.

Finally, he resigns himself to returning to his room. Even as he walks away, the music never comes.

The following day, Saïx immediately notices the ninth Organization member's absence at breakfast. As casually as he can for his growing concern, he inquires as to Demyx's whereabouts.

His question is met with silence all around, uneasy, the reason unknown to the seventh member. It is Axel, number eight, that finally bursts out with the truth. His voice is angry as he tells Saïx what the other cannot remember - that he is the reason the blonde is not present.

After the fiery redhead storms out, several of the others explain more gently, or at least more respectfully out of fear, the events of the previous evening. Saïx's fit of temper - Demyx's attempt at reasoning with the elder…

And now, Saïx understands, without even having to be told. The memories, as if in a torrent, rush through his mind - the blonde's startled and anxious features, the blows senselessly rained upon that frail figure - everything his subconscious mind remembers, and now that he wishes so fervently he can forget.

Demyx is recovering, he is told. No irreversible damage has been done.

And yet with all the heart he does not have, Saïx hates and loathes that part of himself that has done this.

At night, while he sits with glassy eyes upturned toward the moon, he cannot find it in himself to beg for his heart returned. So, he simply watches, unable to break from this solemn tradition.

And then, it floats to his ears like a ray of sunshine in the darkness. A wisp of noise, barely distinguishable from the sounds of night. But it is there, and it makes his whole being ache with some unknown emotion -- is it sadness, or something else entirely? -- as he turns to look.

That same figure is sitting there on the little balcony. Although one arm is swathed in bandages, and half his face is hidden by the same, it is undoubtedly Demyx. His sitar is in his arms, as his fingers gently brush the strings.

The song's melody sounds weak tonight, which comes as no surprise to Saïx from the blonde's condition. But still, Demyx plays through the notes, leaning almost precariously over the instrument.

As the song comes to an end, Demyx's shoulders begin to shake. His sobs are no louder than they have ever been, but are obviously too much a strain on his body as he falls forward, the sitar disappearing in a fluid rush of energy.

But he never hits the floor of the balcony - the strong arms suddenly wrapped around him ensure that. As he looks up, and his gaze meets stoic amber, Demyx glimpses just a tiny piece of that world that his song spoke of to him - and smiles.

And Saïx, holding him and rocking him gently, can't help but see it, too.