Title: Only Whispers Remember (Me).

Author: bbb136

Beta: Rocket-ship-Romance. (Thank you!)

A/N. I've been playing with this story for quite a while and I feel like it's time I posted it. I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon a while back and I thought that the basic idea from this five minute flash back –which made no sense at all actually- had real potential and decided that no pairing was more appropriate for it than Akuroku. –But relax, I'm not bringing in any of the films plot in so you're not going to be reading one of those 'synopsis's with different names' which I see around on here. ;]

I hope you enjoy it. :D Are you excited? I am.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon from which the inspiration to write this came from. This is a work of fiction set in AU Ancient China.

There's a figure on the cliff.

When you were younger you used to tell me not to treat you like a child, that you could take on the world if you were only given the chance. But the world doesn't work like that- you have to take your chance and run with it.

Escape your chains and I'll never treat you like a child ever again.

(But you'll always be one in my eyes.)

The caravan slowly made its way across the barren land, stretching down the rocky and almost invisible desert road like a particularly fat snake. The convoy was made up of eleven simple wagons each transporting several packages, their attendants all as stone faced and silent as the very rocks they trod on. At the front and rear rode a squad of around thirty armed guards, all on horseback and all visibly slouching in their saddles; the intense heat having crushed their spirits only a few hours into the trip. Now; on the second morning of the five-day journey across the harsh sands of the Great Western Desert, the general mood was bleak.

In the very middle of the procession flanked by more wearied guards was a luxurious carriage, toned cream and ivory like the twin mares that pulled it along the path. Unlike the surrounding vehicles and men who all sagged under the weight of the sun, the carriage stood tall and proud, light reflecting off its sides and forcing the servants walking behind to subtly grimace and shield their eyes.

Sitting inside the carriage on cushioned seats, protected from the unforgiving rays and their entourage's attention by a veil, two prominent members of the Tàiyáng family did their best to ignore the others existence.

The elder; an elegant lady who despite not being in the prime of her youth still possessed a radiant beauty heightened by the deep pinks of her dress held a scroll in pale hands, resting it in her lap while she read. The elderly female attendant on her right was sewing, wrinkled eyes kept lowered out of respect.

The only other occupant of the compartment was a boy clothed in the traditional green, who like the beautiful woman had eyes the colour of the deep sky and hair as golden as their namesake, the sun itself.

The postures of the two blondes were both poised yet relaxed, however while the woman's brow was creased in sadness the boy's expression showed nothing but dissatisfaction.

Roxas ran a single practiced finger over the tiny ridges of the Tàiyáng crest, dangling the engraved emerald amulet in front in his face with one hand as he repeated his motions. His mother, wearing an identical frown to his gave a soft sigh, the touch of frustration evident in her warm gaze.

"Roxas," She said quietly, her musical voice breaking the empty silence. Her son obediently raised his eyes to hers but his lips remained down turned. "Please put that away."

He glanced at the swaying amulet for another second before obeying. "I didn't realize it was a bother to you, mother," He murmured tonelessly. "I apologize."

The woman shook her head disapprovingly at the familiar lie. "You know I do not like it when you- you play with the family crest in such a careless manner. It is a habit you must be rid of by the time we arrive at your fiancees home, for the heir to the Tàiyáng family cannot act like a young child and I – honestly Roxas this is the sort of thing I expect to have to tell your younger brother not you."

"I understand mother."

Elena Tàiyáng pursed her lips at her son's dismissive tone but said nothing more.

His actions, not only against an elder but against his own mother had been growing increasingly impolite recently. She was at a loss for an explanation why though; she like the rest of the household thought that Roxas would be more cheerful having successfully negotiated with his father to have him marry Lady Namine over his brother, Sora, but this clearly was not the case.

Shifting slightly in her seat, Lady Tàiyáng murmured a soundless prayer to the Gods, pleading with them for help to deal with her unruly child. Roxas's behaviour was gradually beginning to mimic that of her first son, and that worried her. Greatly.

Unknown to the tired procession almost a hundred pairs of hungry eyes and hungry blades waited restlessly behind a high ridge.

The bandits, the outlaws, the thieves readjusted their grips on the reins of their horses and weapons, staring transfixed at the promises of wealth that travelled at such a tantalizingly slow pace on the road below them. The air was thick with tension and more than one bandit had nearly lunged his horse forward because the urge to ride, to slice, to kill and steal was so great that holding back was getting harder and harder. But no one dared to move without the order.

The leader looked on.

While the swarm of bandits behind him constantly fidgeted and itched to push their beasts forward to charge down the hill in a shuddering craze, he remained still. His tawny coloured colt stood calmly at the edge of the slope, patiently awaiting the nudge of its master's boot.

The leader gave his mount a warning pat.

When the caravan had nearly passed the bottom of the hill by, the leader finally raised his sword above his head and let go a loud war cry, a war cry that was quickly echoed by his men as they followed him charging full speed down the hill, cold metal teeth bared wide.

The desperate yell of "Bandits!" was the only warning the Tàiyáng convoy got before chaos descended.

The sheer suddenness of the noise that erupted actually caused Roxas to raise his hands half way to his ears in a subconscious attempt to lessen the impact. The harsh sound of blades clashing and pained grunts quickly swamped the small space but the thick veils blocked the blonde's view of the situation; something he sort quickly to remedy.

His hand shot out and urgently tugged on the veils, but they had been too well fixed across the windows to withstand the desert wind- so after a few unsuccessful jerks he abandoned the idea. Roxas thought briefly about using his hidden dagger to simply cut straight through the material- until he remembered that it was inappropriate for someone of his standing to travel armed and that he'd never actually carried a blade so why he was even considering that?

"Roxas, stay down!" His mother whispered furiously. "Don't attract any more attention!"

Unsurprisingly his mother and her attendant had reacted in the same way a cornered mouse would do – curling up and trying to hide. Roxas had never been able to understand how a predator could smell fear –and he wondered how someone had even been able to find that information out- but looking at the huddled forms of the two terrified women he could start to see where the idea came from.

Roxas couldn't recount a time where he'd ever been more thankful for being so dedicated to training with the traditional fighting techniques and lessons (and then some) expected of his rank. Then again, this was the first time an attack had come on him before. His mother was a little more accustomed to it –the Tàiyáng clan was well known to be extremely rich and influential - though that wouldn't be apparent by the way she was acting now.

"Boy- sit down what on earth do you think you're doing?"

Said boy turned round and glared stubbornly, frozen in his position of being about to open the doors. "Isn't it obvious mother?" Roxas replied. "I'm going out to help fight off the attack."

"Don't be absurd we have guards for that-"

"But I could help, I could save lives, I would be useful, mother, so with all due respect I can't just sit here and pray." Roxas scanned his mother fluidly. Everything about her betrayed her true feelings; her hunched posture, her shaking hands, the way she let her elderly attendant get so close but most of all, her shining eyes.

There was this strange but popular belief in the lower branches of the Tàiyáng family, which said that a person's entire history could be read by a single look if that person had blue eyes. His father dismissed the claims (like he did with all the stories levelled at his foreign bride and their children) and therefore Roxas did too, but he was always reminded of it whenever he looked upon his mother or his brother.

"Roxas!"

He hurriedly blinked out of his reverie – repeatedly getting lost in his thoughts was starting to get very annoying, especially in a less-than-safe situation – and gave his mother a reassuring nod before jumping out of the carriage. The blonde glanced back just in time to see the woman faint before the door slammed shut again.

Almost instantly someone tried to swipe a knife across his throat –Roxas quickly intercepted the weapon with the base of his hand and performed a butterfly kick to knock his attacker – a bandit in a red scarf- unconscious. His feet hadn't touched the ground before another bandit –correction; two bandits- were upon him waving swords.

Roxas bent backwards and snatched up the fallen dagger with his right hand while holding himself up on his left, recovering just in time to parry one blow and dodge the other. The two bandits made the mistake of hesitating at his speed – it was all the time he needed.

The convoy's guards were remarkably resilient- well; their heavy armour was at any rate. Axel swung his blade and a nameless man screamed and died. Yes, the armour definitely was good quality. He'd have to remember to get one of his men to save the arm guards for him before the bodies were stripped.

Axel cut down another man and the surrounding bandits immediately closed in on the unprotected wagon, then hastily recoiling after he sent them a look that dared one to even think of touching the goods before they were done.

Another swing of his sword, another desperate gurgle. The guards were beginning to thin. The unarmed servants were already dead, the bandits having already taken the easy ones out, like usual.

While Axel disliked showing mercy to anyone, be it the last survivor of a raid or a friend who'd betrayed him to ensure the safety of another, there was something about killing a defenceless person which he just didn't approve of. He still did it of course, but it never did bring much satisfaction.

A brief yell sounded from somewhere behind him – Axel recognised the voice to belong to one of his own men (Tay? Tein? Tane?) and he wondered if the lucky strike had been fatal. A part of him hoped it had; that particular bandit had been a thorn in his side ever since he'd first made contact with the thieves, his death would be a welcome relief.

Axel deftly threw a knife he'd snatched from his boot at the last guard; grinning triumphantly when it pierced the unprotected flesh of the neck and the man dropped to his knees, head lolling as blood rushed out of the wound and onto the golden sand. Either way, the battle was as good as won.

It was only when two other familiar voices echoed Tane's cry, shortly followed by a foreign curse and his own name loudly shouted did Axel feel doubt, and look back over his shoulder.

What he saw confused him to no end.

While his end of the convoy was now clear of guards the other end; the front, there were at least six still fighting. Axel furrowed his brow – the bulk of his men had attacked the front, the procession should have been dealt with long before now- and urged Sauveter to trot over after giving the order for the bandits at his end to start sorting through the wagons.

As much as he admired a fighter who refused to accept defeat this praise tended to be restricted to only those on his side. Besides, the ambush had lost its thrill very early on. Untrained servants and tired guards did not make for a good fight, no matter how many of them there were.

But as he neared the front, passing the silent carriage with its no doubt helpless occupants he felt his interest spark once more.

What he had originally believed to be six, stubborn guards was actually five, and one, stubborn boy wearing clothes more befitting of a noble than a mere manservant.

Axel's eyes widened as he watched the foreign -no one born in China could possibly have blonde hair, he would know- boy quickly defeat men twice his size using a mixture of traditional sword fighting and what appeared to be… kung-fu?

Axel wondered where he'd learnt that.

"Thank god you're here boss!" The pained voice came from his right and he looked at the frustrated bandit who had spoken, noticing but not at all caring at how the man favoured his left leg. "That brat's been giving us so much damn trouble! He just came outta' nowhere and started taking everybody out!"

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm not joking boss. It's damn hard to put a hit on him too- boy moves so fast it's unnatural, he knocked Lee out for gods sake!"

At the mention of his second in commands name Axel stiffened. "What?" He shot the man a disbelieving look.

The bandit nodded grimly. "The boy beat Lee boss, and it only took him two hits." They both glanced back to where the blonde was fighting three men at once- and winning. For some reason Axel found the sight oddly familiar. " I've never seen anybody fight like that, especially a bloody noble."

"We're certain he's a noble?"

"Not in my thirty years have I ever seen a servant wear clothes as fine as those, though I don't know why the hell he's out here instead of crying in his carriage." The man spat on the ground before glaring at the blonde and green blur. "Nobles; useless, greedy bastards the lot of them."

Axel snorted, sliding off of his horse and wiping the sweat from his face. "Apparently not."

"What are we supposed to do with him boss?" The bandit asked as he took Sauveter's reins. "He's not stopping and none of us can even land a hit."

"Leave that to me."

The bandit nodded and turned back to watch the fight, an action copied by the rest of the observing thieves who had all been equally lost and had tried to subtly eavesdrop on their conversation. Axel made a mental note to never use any of them for spying, should a situation in the future call for it. But right now that wasn't important.

Axel leant back and folded his arms, his eyes tracking the noble's progress across the sands. What should I do with you?

His body was beginning to burn.

He had impressive stamina for a boy his age and he knew it, but under the hot sun and seemingly endless onslaught of enemies his limit was approaching quickly. Dangerously quickly.

Roxas sidestepped a large swing of a sword and delivered a neat blow to the back of his attackers head; he went sprawling across the ground.

The expression on his head guard's face when Roxas had first defended him from a killing blow had been far from happy (although the man's eyes had been grateful) and Roxas had no doubt that if the situation wasn't so serious Oren would have forced him back inside the carriage, but as it were Oren could spare no attention to him so Roxas could continue to fight without being interrupted.

He felt pity for Oren and the remaining soldiers nerves however- he could not even begin to imagine his fathers rage should he hear that his heir was left unprotected in a battle where his best guards were falling left and right.

Roxas thus resolved to ensure no word of his interference reached his fathers ears, although as he dodged more thieves' attacks he could feel his confidence in the battle's outcome gradually being battered down.

There were only five guards left, including Oren. When he'd first leapt out of his carriage there had been at least thirty.

They were losing.

Slowly, and stubbornly, but it was only a matter of time until their six became five, then four, three, two, one and eventually his mother would have no one to protect her. Those creatures would pick through their belongings with their filthy hands and suddenly Roxas remembered that for a woman in particular there were far worse things than death, and the bandit that had been persistently dodging his blade fell to the ground in a flash of red.

All of a sudden the noble became a lot more bloodthirsty.

Before the blonde had only killed a few and merely disabled the others, now all men who were too slow had their blood spilt, while the ones more light on their feet were able to dance narrowly out of harms way. Unfortunately for Axel the majority of the boy's challengers fell into the first category.

Axel gave an irritable sigh and tried to figure out the reasons behind the strange attitude change, then quickly put it down to desperation. The boy was on the losing side after all.

But that boy was definitely refusing to accept defeat – at the cost of Axel's men.

He'd already lost at least ten today.

Time to end it.

Axel whistled twice and gestured with his fingers. His bandits retreated from the converging masses of bodies to form a ring around the six –well… five now, that certainly was a strong swing Kinterl- still on their feet.

The guards all looked around in confusion before remembering their duty (or something pointless like that) and forming defensive positions around the blonde, who did not look the slightest bit pleased by the arrangement.

He hissed something inaudible at one but the guard in question just shook his head and focused his eyes on his men, making a bizarre hand signal which Axel did not understand but guessed it to be an order to 'stay put'. The boy looked so exasperated by the action that Axel nearly smiled.

Then he caught sight of Lee's crumpled form lying still next to three other bloodied figures.

Something in Axel's mind snapped and anything that could even resemble a smile vanished from his face.

It was definitely time to end it.

"What are you doing?" Roxas whispered to Oren furiously. "I'm fine – protect my mother!"

To his annoyance Oren merely shook his head in answer and signalled for the other convey guards to hold their position – why were they so determined to be so useless?

The boy readjusted his grip on his stolen blade as he shot his head-guard a glare. He could hear the voice of his teacher in his head, sternly reminding him that reckless decisions cost lives but Roxas could not bring himself to listen, worry taking hold of his heart like a choking weed would a garden.

Only the twisting feeling in his gut prevented him from trying to get back to the carriage.

What are they waiting for? Roxas eyed the masses of bandits warily, all of whom seemed content to stand back and observe… what exactly? Them? They weren't doing anything!

The guard crouching next to Roxas abruptly stiffened. "Sir…" The blonde took one look at him and blanched – the horror on his face could not bode well.

"Yes?" Oren murmured impatiently, sounding distracted.

"It's him- it's-" The man could not finish his sentence. Someone did it for him.

"Someone you really don't want to anger."

Roxas immediately pivoted on his heel to face the direction where the voice came from but froze, fear mixed with sheer surprise stopping him in his tracks. A gap had appeared in the human wall, allowing the most exotic man Roxas had ever seen to stroll through.

The first thing Roxas noticed was the hair.

Its colour was a blazing red; the red of hot coals and rich dyes used for royal weddings, the red so reminiscent of fresh blood. It wasn't cut, braided or pulled back either; the hair was long, wild and reached past the man's shoulders.

Roxas could remember his mother once remarking that 'only drunkards with no decency or self-respect' wore their hair long. (The visiting nobleman's son who this had been directed at chose to pretend that he hadn't heard. Roxas and his brother had to listen to their mother complain for weeks.) While the blonde couldn't speak for any of the other accusations it was clear by how the redhead held himself and how the surrounding bandits were so in awe of him that self-respect was not an issue.

His skin was pale –far paler than expected for one who traversed the deserts- and his features were sharp and angled, but while he didn't appear remotely feminine Roxas suspected that many girls would be jealous of those cheekbones. He also had two tear shaped markings under each eye- but his eyes were by far the most striking, being a piercing green which Roxas had only ever seen in the outlying fields of his home.

Those bright eyes examined the surroundings carefully, and the one time they swept over the small group the guard which had first alerted them to the strangers presence gave a noticeable flinch. The boy wondered what had the man so scared; the other guards were nowhere near as affected.

The bandit suddenly began to approach them – the guards all tensed and raised their swords a little higher, refusing to back down. They shifted slowly till Roxas found himself even more boxed in, trapped in a circle of guards with barely enough room to move but no real need to if the bandit attacked – he'd have to take out a guard before he could reach the blonde.

The redhead stopped a few metres away from them, his blade relaxed by his side as if they weren't in the middle of a battle. He scanned Oren and the others in a single glance and something in his face changed, and he seemed satisfied, as if he had been wondering about an answer and the guards dishevelled appearances had somehow confirmed it.

Then he turned to Roxas and that hint of emotion was replaced by hardness.

There was nothing remotely friendly in those eyes. His interest was evident but there was no warmth. The blonde could feel him studying him intently and he bristled at the feeling – how dare he stare like that!

"So," The single word caused a hush to fall upon the previously muttering bandits. The redhead's face was still expressionless. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Roxas blinked. That was one thing he had not been expecting the man to say.

"You shall not address the Master in such a casual manner!" Oren barked. "And you will cease your violent actions against us!"

A few quiet snickers were heard.

The redhead's gaze flickered to Oren momentarily. "I wasn't talking to you. Shut up."

"I shall not- now take your gang and leave us be!"

"You're not in any position to be making demands of me, guard. You have noticed that you're losing this fight, or has that fancy helmet been blocking your view?" Oren made no answer and the redhead continued undeterred. "Maybe if I stick this sword through your heart you'll realise – of course, I'd kill one of your men but it's obvious that their well-being isn't worth noticing for you."

Roxas's jaw nearly dropped in disbelief – how could he even suggest that?

Oren's shoulders trembled with anger and for a second the blonde half expected his head guard to lunge at the bandit, but Oren soon composed himself and returned to his previous stillness. When he spoke again the restrained fury in his voice was palpable; "I shall not answer such a slanderous statement, I only say this – take your men away from here, you have no honour in attacking us."

The bandits went quiet. Roxas felt a swell of pride for Oren.

"We've spent all this time fighting you and you expect us to leave with some sort of a reward?" The redhead shook his head as if disappointed. "Honourable indeed."

"There is no honour in an unprovoked attack."

"Surely even you, a mere guard to some old noble family must know that the people in control rarely agree with those words." The man's implication was clear and the bandits growled their support. Roxas glared at them all – greed may be a common trait but he had faith that it had not poisoned his father's decisions.

"There is nothing further to say." Oren was still trying to order them away. "If you must take some of the treasures then do so, just leave this convoy in peace."

"Oh don't worry, we'll be taking all your cargo as soon as you're dead." The redhead said, his voice oozing like bitter honey. "I think you'll find that I'm always thorough."

The guard who had been so scared before suddenly leant forwards to hiss urgently in Oren's ear- "Sir, it's him, it's that criminal-"

"For God's sake man!" Oren refused to take his eyes off the redhead for a moment. "Spit it out!"

"He's the Desert Snake!"

Everything seemed to stop.

The guards all exchanged horrified glances and their sturdy professionalism began to evaporate – in front Oren took a step back –a step back- and looked as if he was seeing the redhead in a whole new and terrible light, the watching bandits grinned wickedly and chortled to one another in amusement- all the while Roxas stood bewildered in the middle of the madness.

What on earth is going on? The name 'Desert Snake' was not one completely unfamiliar to him –he recognised it from somewhere- but he didn't understand why this new revelation impacted so strongly on their situation. Before they were in trouble – now they were in trouble with a name to curse. If anything Roxas was thankful.

The redhead – or rather, the Desert Snake- sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. His expression finally changed and a hint of a smirk began to play along his lips.

"Yes…" He raised both arms. Like he hadn't already gotten everybody's attention. "I am the Desert Snake, though I can't say I appreciate the name people have given me. It's not very flattering."

"You- you may take all our cargo, it is yours- just leave us be!" Oren cried.

Roxas stared at his head guard in shock. Hearing the usually unruffled and calm voice so shaky didn't help him calm down at all- if Oren was openly showing fear…

"You've never heard of me, have you?" The blonde held his blade a little tighter when he realised the Desert Snake was once again, addressing him.

Indeed, he looked up to see those green eyes inspecting him thoughtfully and the owner didn't look remotely surprised when Roxas simply glared in answer. This bandit had no right to speak to him.

The Desert Snake shrugged once more. "The reason I am known as the Desert Snake is because firstly-" He nudged the sand pointedly with one foot. "I live in the desert."

A few bandits laughed.

"And secondly any travellers which stumble across my path get swallowed up- leaving no trace that they were ever there, save for some… residue. Sort of what a snake does with a mouse." The redhead paused. "Though I suppose…" He continued slowly. "It's really the desert which does the swallowing – we just get first pick. Isn't that right boys?"

A loud cheer sounded from the crowds and many bandits raised their right arms and punched the air. In contrast Oren and the other guards curled in on themselves a little further.

The redhead grinned –Roxas saw a flash of white teeth- at his men and turned to face him once more. "Thing is boy-"

"If you're going to call me anything it will be 'my Lord'." Roxas snarled, the man's total lack of respect grating on his already frayed nerves.

"For a while there I thought you didn't have a voice." To his aggravation the redhead looked gleeful at his snappish answer. "Nice to see I was wrong- but anyway, my lord. Do you have any idea how much hassle you've caused me?"

Roxas stamped down on his urge to smirk. "… No." He replied after a short pause.

"Frankly neither do I but it's a lot. This fight would have been over long ago if you'd just stayed put like a good little noble- speaking of which, until now I never saw a noble who could fight so- well just a noble who could fight at all, then I meet you-"

"Get to the point." The blonde demanded.

The Desert Snake looked slightly taken aback at Roxas's bluntness.

"…Well," The man's gaze flickered to the convoy guards before settling back onto the blonde. "I'm going to kill you. Seeing as no one else can."

Roxas stiffened. "Is that so?" He said, voice steady.

"Yes. Now come out here and fight me, one on one. My men won't interfere and neither will yours- it'll be nice and clean. Sort of."

Roxas spared one look at Oren but the man had his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He felt a momentary sting of betrayal but quickly remembered his lessons on controlling his emotions and forced it down as he urged his feet to move. In fact the only one out of the entire group who actually showed some visible sign that they'd even heard the redheads words was a young guard with a wounded shoulder, who only gave Roxas a worried and deeply pitying stare but made no attempt to stop him - he was truly on his own in this. No one was going to help him out.

But he couldn't refuse. If what the Desert Snake said was true then accepting defeat would be to accept death, not just for him but for his mother also. Roxas had to fight to save her life.

The realisation gave him the strength to slip past his guards and move to face his opponent head on. If the redheads skills were anything like those of the other bandits then the fight wouldn't be that arduous – or at least Roxas hoped. Something in the way the redhead raised his sword to his lips (for a second the blonde thought he had kissed it but dismissed the ridiculous notion immediately) warned him not to take the man lightly.

But Roxas was far from a reckless novice – if the redhead made even the smallest mistake he would make sure it was his undoing.

Then he heard the whisper. "I'm sorry, Master." The small voice was sad but Roxas didn't know who had said it because he didn't turn round to find out.

To do so with an enemy less than three feet away would be a death wish, but also-

The redhead began to circle Roxas and the blonde instinctively mirrored his footsteps, keeping a watchful eye on the other bandits the whole time just in case one tried to attack him when his back was turned.

For a few seconds they just stared at each other. Then the Desert Snake lunged.

Part Two is currently being written. [Please stop hyperventilating Rocket.]

I aim to keep the chapters around this length or longer but I'm not too sure about how long certain parts in the plot will go on, but I've divided it so there's at least something of interest in each chapter and it's suitably even.

Review please! I've been working on this for ages so any comments, thoughts or criticisms would really be appreciated. :) Flamers can expect to be ridiculed.