KH - Return :: Rewrite Chapter Five, “Filching Notes”
Return :: Rewrite
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Character: Demyx
Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance
Rating: T / PG-13
Chapters: 5/7
Beta: Dystopian Hope
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts rights belong to Square Enix and Disney. This piece of fiction is fan-made and as such I am making no monetary profits off of this.
There were too many photos.
That was Zexion's first and last thought as he scanned the massive walls coated with nothing other than his boyfriend's photography. Landscapes, family, him- there was too much to check before the far-off whirr of an elevator could be heard from down the hall. Quickly sliding the curtains back in place, the Hybrid flipped off the lights before collapsing atop the boy's bed, suddenly wary. What's normal in this kind of situation, he thought to himself. Should I be asleep? Should I get up and greet him with a kiss? What? At a loss for anything to do that would satisfy his curiosity, Zexion attempted to appear as if he were sleeping as the blond walked into the room. And why did he take so long?
"You awake?" Demyx quietly inquired, moving slowly to the edge of the bed, picking his way through the darkness of the room.
"I am, now," the Hybrid replied, adding a sleepy drawl to his voice that was so obviously faked he nearly winced, though Demyx didn't seem to notice. The blond apologized, and Zexion idly reveled in just how easy it was to mislead his boyfriend. He couldn't bring himself to care, though. It was just a part of him; that gullibility. "Welcome back," he mused quietly, preparing to press his lips to Demyx's as the older boy lowered himself onto the mattress. As the bed gave way to the taller boy's weight an unpleasant smell choked the Hybrid's nose, forcing him back before he could move forward to kiss the older boy. The sheets slid against his naked body as he did so, rustling in the darkness. "Have you been smoking?" he inquired with a sneer, pressing his hand to his face in an attempt to shield himself from the nearly overwhelming stench burning through his sharper Hybrid senses. Demyx winced, looking away from the smaller boy. "Have you been smoking?" he requested again.
"Yes."
"For how long?" the Hybrid asked, only to be met with silence once more. "How long have you been smoking, Demyx?"
The blond sighed, and his breath reeked of burnt tobacco and salt. "On my birthday," he admitted after a bit, daring to look the younger boy in the eye.
Zexion grimaced. "That's after we started dating," he deadpanned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not for nothing! I-" he began, swallowing heavily. "I've been having these… these shakes lately." His fingers fidgeted, looking for something to touch- like it was missing something. Before long the fidget turned to a twitch, and then a slight convulsion up his arm that traveled slowly, but surely, to the rest of his body. "I've noticed that the shakes stop when I smoke," he started, motioning to the twitching arm with a steady hand, "and when I touch you." Reaching out, he gently trailed a finger along the line of Zexion's jaw, then along a face that was stricken with horror, though he couldn't see it in the current lighting. Sure enough, the unusual movement in his arm ceased. "But... there's also been this feeling in the pit of my stomach lately when I'm not around you; like something's really wrong."
Zexion looked mortified- was mortified. "But we've only been together for…" He trailed off, looking to the side.
Confused, Demyx tried to meet the Hybrid's eyes. "Do you know something?"
Looking up, the cat-eared boy gave Demyx a look. "What do you think it is?"
"Premonition," he replied simply, earning him an expression of shock, though he couldn't make it out through the shadows. "There's this horrible feeling that something is going to go very wrong very soon." Silence.
"What day is it?"
"Thursday, but what-" Leaping from the bed, Zexion moved to snatch up his discarded clothes from the floor, ignoring the eyes that traced his nude figure as he traveled through the light that shone from the open door. The movement resulted in a backlash of both gravity and karma as the remainder of his hangover, paired with a head-rush, raked at his brain, leaving him dizzy for a few slow seconds. "Where are you going?" the blond requested, stepping from the bed to catch the Hybrid before his legs gave out.
"Where do you think? I haven't been home since Monday," he paused, "I think," he managed, shaking the fuzz from his thoughts. "Our parties last a while longer than human ones."
Allowing the boy to step from his arms, Demyx sighed. He moved up to the desk, then glanced at the coffee mug he'd given Zexion nearly twenty minutes before hand; it was already cold, and not a single drop had been drunk. He found it odd, really, that it was there. Zexion had gone straight to sleep after he had gone, but it would have made more sense if the Hybrid had set it on the bedside table. Instead it was halfway across the room- a dozen or so feet out of his hung-over way. Not only that, but Zexion's pants were there, too, with a slip of paper not properly inside the pocket, almost as if it had been put there by someone drunk. The gnawing feeling was back. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked, reaching for the pants. Taking them into his hands, the blond placed the slip into his own pocket.
Zexion looked to him, then the floor. At this point he was only in a pair of boxers, and was still an enticing sight to behold to the blond. The light from the door seemed to send everything about the Hybrid into relief; from how his tail would twitch from side to side- a nervous habit- to the way his ears stood at attention as if he were noticing something for the first time. In seconds the blond was there with him, holding the smaller boy to himself, smoothing their lips together. Gone was the foreboding something that was slowly, but surely, grinding his stomach to dust. Before long, though, Zexion had pulled away, tugged the rest of his clothes on, and requested that the blond drive him home.
As soon as he deposited the Hybrid at his front step the feeling was back, feeding on his insides in a way Demyx could only classify as addiction. Rolling down the window, he lit up, taking drag after drag on cigarette after cigarette until he could be confident that the shaking in his hands was from the nicotine and not from something he couldn't name.
…
"We have a problem."
Glancing up from the multitude of glowing vials, swirling mixtures, and spiraling wisps of smoke, Cid took in the image of his son standing atop the stairs leading into his lab. The teen looked almost at home among the stone walls, rock floors, and concrete stairs that set a depressing uniform gray standard for the room- as if he belonged there, underground. However, he stood as if he were afraid the Earth would swallow him whole where he stood. "What's going on?" he asked, looking to the slight form of the younger Hybrid with confusion.
"I think…" he trailed off with a swallow, voice bearing the weight of a squeak usually found in a teenager's speech. Silence.
"Well?" Cid inquired, staring his son down. "If it's nothing then get out; I need to work on this shipment." Zexion straightened,
then. It seemed out of character, his stance. Confident, commanding, and- in some strange way- sarcastic in his bearing; as if some switch inside him was flipped. The blond man didn't see any of this, though, as his eyes were trained on his instruments.
"Demyx has started smoking." Gone was the squeak; the light carry once evident in Zexion's voice. Instead it carried a weight, and every word nearly dripped with sarcasm despite their seriousness.
Turning to the smaller Hybrid, the man took in his son's stance. Sniffing, he turned back to his work. "I'm the last person you should talk to about this- I just make this stuff," he announced, peering into vial of Mako with rapt attention. "Go ask Marluxia for permission to get an appointment with Lucrecia- and you better wrap up this mission soon; your replacement sucks."
Moving from the basement, Zexion murmured on his way out, "You forget that you're a replacement- and you suck just as much as he does." Glancing at the basement door, which slid into place to blend with the wall upon his prompting- but not before a small boy slipped by him. It was the new delivery boy; a rooster Hybrid. "Mr. Little," he greeted as the boy inclined his head in respect before descending the stairs. "Speak of the Devil," he chortled before continueing on. He ignored how his feet grew heavier with every step, dragging his mood down to a place below his knees.
Moving through the kitchen, then the living room, he collapsed onto a bean-bag chair- a green one that sat next to the phone base. Snatching the handset up, the Hybrid deftly went through the motions of dialing Marluxia's number. He was met with a few short beeps, and then a man's voice.
"Ferguson and Atkin-Downes residence; Larxene speaking," a woman drawled over the connection.
"I wish to speak with Marluxia," Zexion announced. "It is important."
"Is that you, Zexion?"
"Yes, and if you could put Marluxia on the line that would be rather productive."
"What flew up your butt?" he heard her mumble crudely before shouting for the man.
There was a moment of quiet before the man arrived. "To what do I owe the surprise, my beloved Cloaked Schemer?" Marluxia drawled through the line.
"Demyx has begun smoking." A short space of time passed between them filled with nothing more than phone static.
"Did you complete your assignment?" the man inquired.
"Yes, however-"
"Then he is of no concern to you."
Silent rage filled the teen. "He started smoking, Marluxia, and he's been shaking. You know what that means! Do you not see-"
"Of course I know what it means- I'm not an idiot," the other hissed, effectively cutting off the boy. "What I fail to see is the relevance such an event has to our current situation."
"Demyx wouldn't be having such a problem if it weren't for-"
"-the mission?" he finished for him. Laughter ensued; it was a cold sound. "My little Cloaked Schemer, you are the one who does not understand." He laughed, again. "You are done; there is nothing more tying you to that… boy." The word was laden with malice. "This façade of yours can end, because the moment either of you learn the truth of the other is the moment this cheap imitation of… 'affection-" he spat the word as if it were poison, “-you have for each other will dissipate into disappointment and rage. Besides," he chuckled, though there was no humor in the sound. "You knew this would happen, and if you proceed to be so irrational I might have to take a few precautionary measures."
The line went dead.
Sliding his fingertips along his forehead, the boy attempted to alleviate the pressure building behind his eyes.
"Zexion?" a voice called from behind him, startling the Hybrid. Turning, he came face-to-face with his mother stepping through the door with an arm-full of groceries. "Are you alright?" she gasped, moving forward in haste until she could reach out with one arm to gently touch his face.
"Yes. Why do you ask?" he inquired, voice even.
"Because you're crying." Sure enough, he reached up and there they were. Tears.
"Don't tell anyone about this," he mused, stepping away from the phone and shoving his hands deep inside his pockets as he made his way to his room, only to find something was missing. Turning out his pockets, the boy's eyes widened as he took in just what their being empty meant.
The instructions were gone.
…
Light filtered into the room from panels along the floor, casting soft blue shadows against the floor-length curtains that hid the walls. The effervescent glow was meant to be comforting, but it was anything but for the figure pacing the room incessantly. One foot in front of the other and repeat, occasionally mixing up the pattern with a squared corner, Demyx walked the length of the room over and over, all but memorizing the way the cool glass-metal-wood interlay that cooled the skin of his toes muffled the force of his steps, heavy with rage. A slip of paper was clenched in his palm, and it seemed oddly in place with the moment.
Time passed. Hours, minutes- he didn't know. Every moment blurred into the next in his quiet fury.
Finally, he spoke.
"Arpeggio," he commanded, bringing the computer to life.
"Harmonious welcomes, Demyx," she greeted, icon gracing him with a wide grin as the monitor flickered on.
"Don't you 'harmonious welcomes' me," the boy snapped, voice calm and even despite his anger. His face didn't betray his anger in the slightest despite how he was so furious he could barely keep himself from beating the nearest object to pieces. "Does this look familiar?" he inquired, opening the slip of paper to the webcam in accusation rather than a request for confirmation.
There was a pause. "Of course not."
"If you keep lying I can reset your program, you know."
"You must understand that I had no choice-"
"You are my computer, Peggy."
She winced, hesitated, then admitted, "You weren't supposed to find out."
"Find out what?" the boy hissed. It wasn't a question. Arpeggio remained silent. "What was I not supposed to figure out? That Zexion got you to hijack Radiant Garden's main computer- the DTD, of all things- or that he might possibly be cheating on me?"
Arpeggio blinked. "I don't know where you got the assumption that he may have connections outside of your relationship, but-"
"I said 'possibly,' and wouldn't you think that with a note like this?" he laughed, poison lacing his tone. Smoothing out the crumpled paper atop the desk, he squinted at the writing, illuminated by the computer screen. "'My beloved Cloaked Schemer,'" he quoted, reading directly from the page. "'Below are your instructions for Arpeggio-' and then it goes on about hacking into the DTD, which you already know," the boy spat, fixing the screen with a look. He turned back to the sheet, then. "'Once you are complete with your directive you are to break contact with the human and resume your usual duties. Love, The Graceful Assassin.'" He grimaced. "It's been three days and he hasn't picked up his phone once which concludes the fact that I was just some tool!"
Arpeggio's icon bit her lip as she clenched her eyes shut as the screen behind her convulsed in a sort of beating pattern. Ignoring this, Demyx stared her down. She turned to him, then, fixing what would have been a gaze on the boy. "He isn't Xion," was all she said before shutting herself down, leaving him alone with the heavy weight of silence slipping iron into his feet.
Heaving a sigh, Demyx reached toward his back jean pocket for a cigarette, only to pull an empty pack from the denim. Groaning, he stood, making his way out of the room and into the elevator. The ride was a short one, unmemorable, but he soon found himself in the living room where his mother sat watching the morning news on the wall screen.
"Where are you going, Demyx?" she gasped, turning to him in surprise. "It's six in the morning."
"Going to grab a pack," he announced, holding up the empty carton for his mother to see. The woman scowled.
"I hope you didn't pick up this habit from that boy- Zexion. I liked him; he struck me as smarter than that 'Xion' girl you dated last year," she idly mused, turning back to the screen where they were showing an arrest.
"Don't bring her up," the boy demanded weakly, and he nearly left, but a quick look to the television brought a view of the clerk from the 'Little Convenience Store.' "Hey- turn it up," he requested, staring at the screen in shock. Naminé nodded before pressing a few buttons on the remote.
"-was discovered carrying deadly poisons through a residential area upon a search," the anchor monotonously stated, obviously not surprised by the events. "Ace Cluck, a twenty-three year old Hybrid working full time as a convenience-store clerk in the Lowtown district of Rabenastre, was walking the residential streets of Radiant Garden when police asked him to open the bag. It was reported that the sound of glass clinking could be heard from several feet away, and when asked to cooperate the Hybrid fled. He was soon apprehended and large glass vials of poison, along with a large quantity of needles and syringes, were confiscated from the bag. Mr. Cluck has been placed in jail to await a sentence." It then switched to a report on a salmonella outbreak, but Demyx didn't bother staying for that.
…
December air flooded Zexion's lungs as he made his way through residential Radiant Garden. Adjusting the bag that clung to his shoulder, he allowed himself a quick glance along the length of the block. No sound had come from the bag, but he was still paranoid. It was risky delivering a shipment when their last delivery boy had been apprehended not three hours before hand on the same route.
But Lucrecia was waiting.
Taking slow, deliberate steps was all he could do to prevent the shipment of Mako inside the messenger bag from making any noise. Padding, after all, would have made him suspicious. Thankfully the weather was giving him a break and there was no rain or snow to speak of. Through it all, however, there was a weight in his chest that was determined to drag his heart into his stomach, and it was as if there was lead in his feet that dragged the Hybrid's shoes along the ground with every step.
Flipping Lexaeus open, he looked at the prompt for an address on the screen before once again glancing around the block. Just as he thought he was alone, a car rounded the bend. It was a familiar car- a blue truck with marker all up the side proclaiming illegible things to the world. Ambling down the road, it sputtered. Inside was its usual blond driver, staring at Zexion with surprise. Pulling up alongside the boy, Demyx laughed. "Need a lift?" he inquired, watched with humor as Zexion shoved his ungloved hands deep within his pockets. "What? Do you not trust me?" he laughed, gracing the boy with a grin. And with that, the heavy feeling in Zexion's stomach was gone, replaced instead with the bubbly feeling that seemed to accompany him whenever the blond was around.
Then the Hybrid recalled the missing instructions; Demyx had most likely found them and come to some kind of conclusion.
Despite how his gut screamed for him to stop, the small boy climbed into the car, tail twitching, ears back beneath his beanie. "Where are you headed?" the blond requested.
"1342 Cloudborn Street," the boy supplied as the car pulled away from the curb. Neither spoke a word until they cleared the block. "What brings you here?" Zexion asked, looking to his boyfriend in surprise.
The blond shrugged. "Looking for a new convenience store to buy cigarettes. I was rather attached to the clerk of the last one, but he was arrested. You might have seen it on the news- caught with poison."
Zexion, perplexed, turned to look at him in shock. "Ace?"
"That's the one." Silence overtook the car for another minute or so. "So when were you planning on telling me about this? The whole 'blackmail my computer, hack into the DTD mainframe, and arrange some sort of 'meeting' thing?"
Ears perked slightly at the sound of Demyx speaking before flattening themselves to slate hair as they had before. Shaking his head, Zexion admitted, "I wasn't planning on telling you at all."
"I see…" he mused. Glancing over at the smaller boy, who looked significantly cowed, he moved onto another matter. "So who's this 'Graceful Assassin' person?"
Zexion laughed. "He's our leader." Turning his eyes to the outside of the truck, the boy watched as house after house flew by.
Demyx blinked. "Okay; let me get this straight. You're carrying poison," he mused, pointing to the bag Zexion carried despite
how the boy gaped like a fish at the insinuation, "are part of a group with Hybrids in it that definitely isn't controlled by the government," this had the Hybrid hesitating before he finally nodded, "and are hacking into government files."
"What are you going to do?" the boy snapped, drawing the blond's attention from the road for a split second. "Lynch me?"
Demyx slammed on the break, nearly sending the Hybrid into cardiac arrest as he lurched forward in his seat, only for the seat belt to attempt to force itself through his ribs. "Who told you about that?" the blond mused, attempting to keep his voice even. It was a hopeless endeavor as the sound wavered and died in his throat halfway through his last word as he choked on the word.
"But you regret it," the Hybrid attempted, unsure. After a bit, the car started up again, and turns were made before the car stood before a very familiar house.
"Here we are," the boy whispered, motioning towards the house. "Drop off your poison," he quipped, sparing the Hybrid a glance before turning his eyes back to their previous focus on the road before the truck despite how they weren't moving. Zexion nodded, and moved to open the door. Before he could leave, however, a warm hand was on his arm, and he could feel the older boy's warmth through the sleeve. Only four words came from the boy's mouth, but they were enough to send him into a form of panic. "We need to talk." There was no arguing with this.
Time to face the music.
Quick Quiz: What is the origin of Mako?
Chapter 6
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Character: Demyx
Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance
Rating: T / PG-13
Chapters: 5/7
Beta: Dystopian Hope
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts rights belong to Square Enix and Disney. This piece of fiction is fan-made and as such I am making no monetary profits off of this.
There were too many photos.
That was Zexion's first and last thought as he scanned the massive walls coated with nothing other than his boyfriend's photography. Landscapes, family, him- there was too much to check before the far-off whirr of an elevator could be heard from down the hall. Quickly sliding the curtains back in place, the Hybrid flipped off the lights before collapsing atop the boy's bed, suddenly wary. What's normal in this kind of situation, he thought to himself. Should I be asleep? Should I get up and greet him with a kiss? What? At a loss for anything to do that would satisfy his curiosity, Zexion attempted to appear as if he were sleeping as the blond walked into the room. And why did he take so long?
"You awake?" Demyx quietly inquired, moving slowly to the edge of the bed, picking his way through the darkness of the room.
"I am, now," the Hybrid replied, adding a sleepy drawl to his voice that was so obviously faked he nearly winced, though Demyx didn't seem to notice. The blond apologized, and Zexion idly reveled in just how easy it was to mislead his boyfriend. He couldn't bring himself to care, though. It was just a part of him; that gullibility. "Welcome back," he mused quietly, preparing to press his lips to Demyx's as the older boy lowered himself onto the mattress. As the bed gave way to the taller boy's weight an unpleasant smell choked the Hybrid's nose, forcing him back before he could move forward to kiss the older boy. The sheets slid against his naked body as he did so, rustling in the darkness. "Have you been smoking?" he inquired with a sneer, pressing his hand to his face in an attempt to shield himself from the nearly overwhelming stench burning through his sharper Hybrid senses. Demyx winced, looking away from the smaller boy. "Have you been smoking?" he requested again.
"Yes."
"For how long?" the Hybrid asked, only to be met with silence once more. "How long have you been smoking, Demyx?"
The blond sighed, and his breath reeked of burnt tobacco and salt. "On my birthday," he admitted after a bit, daring to look the younger boy in the eye.
Zexion grimaced. "That's after we started dating," he deadpanned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not for nothing! I-" he began, swallowing heavily. "I've been having these… these shakes lately." His fingers fidgeted, looking for something to touch- like it was missing something. Before long the fidget turned to a twitch, and then a slight convulsion up his arm that traveled slowly, but surely, to the rest of his body. "I've noticed that the shakes stop when I smoke," he started, motioning to the twitching arm with a steady hand, "and when I touch you." Reaching out, he gently trailed a finger along the line of Zexion's jaw, then along a face that was stricken with horror, though he couldn't see it in the current lighting. Sure enough, the unusual movement in his arm ceased. "But... there's also been this feeling in the pit of my stomach lately when I'm not around you; like something's really wrong."
Zexion looked mortified- was mortified. "But we've only been together for…" He trailed off, looking to the side.
Confused, Demyx tried to meet the Hybrid's eyes. "Do you know something?"
Looking up, the cat-eared boy gave Demyx a look. "What do you think it is?"
"Premonition," he replied simply, earning him an expression of shock, though he couldn't make it out through the shadows. "There's this horrible feeling that something is going to go very wrong very soon." Silence.
"What day is it?"
"Thursday, but what-" Leaping from the bed, Zexion moved to snatch up his discarded clothes from the floor, ignoring the eyes that traced his nude figure as he traveled through the light that shone from the open door. The movement resulted in a backlash of both gravity and karma as the remainder of his hangover, paired with a head-rush, raked at his brain, leaving him dizzy for a few slow seconds. "Where are you going?" the blond requested, stepping from the bed to catch the Hybrid before his legs gave out.
"Where do you think? I haven't been home since Monday," he paused, "I think," he managed, shaking the fuzz from his thoughts. "Our parties last a while longer than human ones."
Allowing the boy to step from his arms, Demyx sighed. He moved up to the desk, then glanced at the coffee mug he'd given Zexion nearly twenty minutes before hand; it was already cold, and not a single drop had been drunk. He found it odd, really, that it was there. Zexion had gone straight to sleep after he had gone, but it would have made more sense if the Hybrid had set it on the bedside table. Instead it was halfway across the room- a dozen or so feet out of his hung-over way. Not only that, but Zexion's pants were there, too, with a slip of paper not properly inside the pocket, almost as if it had been put there by someone drunk. The gnawing feeling was back. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked, reaching for the pants. Taking them into his hands, the blond placed the slip into his own pocket.
Zexion looked to him, then the floor. At this point he was only in a pair of boxers, and was still an enticing sight to behold to the blond. The light from the door seemed to send everything about the Hybrid into relief; from how his tail would twitch from side to side- a nervous habit- to the way his ears stood at attention as if he were noticing something for the first time. In seconds the blond was there with him, holding the smaller boy to himself, smoothing their lips together. Gone was the foreboding something that was slowly, but surely, grinding his stomach to dust. Before long, though, Zexion had pulled away, tugged the rest of his clothes on, and requested that the blond drive him home.
As soon as he deposited the Hybrid at his front step the feeling was back, feeding on his insides in a way Demyx could only classify as addiction. Rolling down the window, he lit up, taking drag after drag on cigarette after cigarette until he could be confident that the shaking in his hands was from the nicotine and not from something he couldn't name.
…
"We have a problem."
Glancing up from the multitude of glowing vials, swirling mixtures, and spiraling wisps of smoke, Cid took in the image of his son standing atop the stairs leading into his lab. The teen looked almost at home among the stone walls, rock floors, and concrete stairs that set a depressing uniform gray standard for the room- as if he belonged there, underground. However, he stood as if he were afraid the Earth would swallow him whole where he stood. "What's going on?" he asked, looking to the slight form of the younger Hybrid with confusion.
"I think…" he trailed off with a swallow, voice bearing the weight of a squeak usually found in a teenager's speech. Silence.
"Well?" Cid inquired, staring his son down. "If it's nothing then get out; I need to work on this shipment." Zexion straightened,
then. It seemed out of character, his stance. Confident, commanding, and- in some strange way- sarcastic in his bearing; as if some switch inside him was flipped. The blond man didn't see any of this, though, as his eyes were trained on his instruments.
"Demyx has started smoking." Gone was the squeak; the light carry once evident in Zexion's voice. Instead it carried a weight, and every word nearly dripped with sarcasm despite their seriousness.
Turning to the smaller Hybrid, the man took in his son's stance. Sniffing, he turned back to his work. "I'm the last person you should talk to about this- I just make this stuff," he announced, peering into vial of Mako with rapt attention. "Go ask Marluxia for permission to get an appointment with Lucrecia- and you better wrap up this mission soon; your replacement sucks."
Moving from the basement, Zexion murmured on his way out, "You forget that you're a replacement- and you suck just as much as he does." Glancing at the basement door, which slid into place to blend with the wall upon his prompting- but not before a small boy slipped by him. It was the new delivery boy; a rooster Hybrid. "Mr. Little," he greeted as the boy inclined his head in respect before descending the stairs. "Speak of the Devil," he chortled before continueing on. He ignored how his feet grew heavier with every step, dragging his mood down to a place below his knees.
Moving through the kitchen, then the living room, he collapsed onto a bean-bag chair- a green one that sat next to the phone base. Snatching the handset up, the Hybrid deftly went through the motions of dialing Marluxia's number. He was met with a few short beeps, and then a man's voice.
"Ferguson and Atkin-Downes residence; Larxene speaking," a woman drawled over the connection.
"I wish to speak with Marluxia," Zexion announced. "It is important."
"Is that you, Zexion?"
"Yes, and if you could put Marluxia on the line that would be rather productive."
"What flew up your butt?" he heard her mumble crudely before shouting for the man.
There was a moment of quiet before the man arrived. "To what do I owe the surprise, my beloved Cloaked Schemer?" Marluxia drawled through the line.
"Demyx has begun smoking." A short space of time passed between them filled with nothing more than phone static.
"Did you complete your assignment?" the man inquired.
"Yes, however-"
"Then he is of no concern to you."
Silent rage filled the teen. "He started smoking, Marluxia, and he's been shaking. You know what that means! Do you not see-"
"Of course I know what it means- I'm not an idiot," the other hissed, effectively cutting off the boy. "What I fail to see is the relevance such an event has to our current situation."
"Demyx wouldn't be having such a problem if it weren't for-"
"-the mission?" he finished for him. Laughter ensued; it was a cold sound. "My little Cloaked Schemer, you are the one who does not understand." He laughed, again. "You are done; there is nothing more tying you to that… boy." The word was laden with malice. "This façade of yours can end, because the moment either of you learn the truth of the other is the moment this cheap imitation of… 'affection-" he spat the word as if it were poison, “-you have for each other will dissipate into disappointment and rage. Besides," he chuckled, though there was no humor in the sound. "You knew this would happen, and if you proceed to be so irrational I might have to take a few precautionary measures."
The line went dead.
Sliding his fingertips along his forehead, the boy attempted to alleviate the pressure building behind his eyes.
"Zexion?" a voice called from behind him, startling the Hybrid. Turning, he came face-to-face with his mother stepping through the door with an arm-full of groceries. "Are you alright?" she gasped, moving forward in haste until she could reach out with one arm to gently touch his face.
"Yes. Why do you ask?" he inquired, voice even.
"Because you're crying." Sure enough, he reached up and there they were. Tears.
"Don't tell anyone about this," he mused, stepping away from the phone and shoving his hands deep inside his pockets as he made his way to his room, only to find something was missing. Turning out his pockets, the boy's eyes widened as he took in just what their being empty meant.
The instructions were gone.
…
Light filtered into the room from panels along the floor, casting soft blue shadows against the floor-length curtains that hid the walls. The effervescent glow was meant to be comforting, but it was anything but for the figure pacing the room incessantly. One foot in front of the other and repeat, occasionally mixing up the pattern with a squared corner, Demyx walked the length of the room over and over, all but memorizing the way the cool glass-metal-wood interlay that cooled the skin of his toes muffled the force of his steps, heavy with rage. A slip of paper was clenched in his palm, and it seemed oddly in place with the moment.
Time passed. Hours, minutes- he didn't know. Every moment blurred into the next in his quiet fury.
Finally, he spoke.
"Arpeggio," he commanded, bringing the computer to life.
"Harmonious welcomes, Demyx," she greeted, icon gracing him with a wide grin as the monitor flickered on.
"Don't you 'harmonious welcomes' me," the boy snapped, voice calm and even despite his anger. His face didn't betray his anger in the slightest despite how he was so furious he could barely keep himself from beating the nearest object to pieces. "Does this look familiar?" he inquired, opening the slip of paper to the webcam in accusation rather than a request for confirmation.
There was a pause. "Of course not."
"If you keep lying I can reset your program, you know."
"You must understand that I had no choice-"
"You are my computer, Peggy."
She winced, hesitated, then admitted, "You weren't supposed to find out."
"Find out what?" the boy hissed. It wasn't a question. Arpeggio remained silent. "What was I not supposed to figure out? That Zexion got you to hijack Radiant Garden's main computer- the DTD, of all things- or that he might possibly be cheating on me?"
Arpeggio blinked. "I don't know where you got the assumption that he may have connections outside of your relationship, but-"
"I said 'possibly,' and wouldn't you think that with a note like this?" he laughed, poison lacing his tone. Smoothing out the crumpled paper atop the desk, he squinted at the writing, illuminated by the computer screen. "'My beloved Cloaked Schemer,'" he quoted, reading directly from the page. "'Below are your instructions for Arpeggio-' and then it goes on about hacking into the DTD, which you already know," the boy spat, fixing the screen with a look. He turned back to the sheet, then. "'Once you are complete with your directive you are to break contact with the human and resume your usual duties. Love, The Graceful Assassin.'" He grimaced. "It's been three days and he hasn't picked up his phone once which concludes the fact that I was just some tool!"
Arpeggio's icon bit her lip as she clenched her eyes shut as the screen behind her convulsed in a sort of beating pattern. Ignoring this, Demyx stared her down. She turned to him, then, fixing what would have been a gaze on the boy. "He isn't Xion," was all she said before shutting herself down, leaving him alone with the heavy weight of silence slipping iron into his feet.
Heaving a sigh, Demyx reached toward his back jean pocket for a cigarette, only to pull an empty pack from the denim. Groaning, he stood, making his way out of the room and into the elevator. The ride was a short one, unmemorable, but he soon found himself in the living room where his mother sat watching the morning news on the wall screen.
"Where are you going, Demyx?" she gasped, turning to him in surprise. "It's six in the morning."
"Going to grab a pack," he announced, holding up the empty carton for his mother to see. The woman scowled.
"I hope you didn't pick up this habit from that boy- Zexion. I liked him; he struck me as smarter than that 'Xion' girl you dated last year," she idly mused, turning back to the screen where they were showing an arrest.
"Don't bring her up," the boy demanded weakly, and he nearly left, but a quick look to the television brought a view of the clerk from the 'Little Convenience Store.' "Hey- turn it up," he requested, staring at the screen in shock. Naminé nodded before pressing a few buttons on the remote.
"-was discovered carrying deadly poisons through a residential area upon a search," the anchor monotonously stated, obviously not surprised by the events. "Ace Cluck, a twenty-three year old Hybrid working full time as a convenience-store clerk in the Lowtown district of Rabenastre, was walking the residential streets of Radiant Garden when police asked him to open the bag. It was reported that the sound of glass clinking could be heard from several feet away, and when asked to cooperate the Hybrid fled. He was soon apprehended and large glass vials of poison, along with a large quantity of needles and syringes, were confiscated from the bag. Mr. Cluck has been placed in jail to await a sentence." It then switched to a report on a salmonella outbreak, but Demyx didn't bother staying for that.
…
December air flooded Zexion's lungs as he made his way through residential Radiant Garden. Adjusting the bag that clung to his shoulder, he allowed himself a quick glance along the length of the block. No sound had come from the bag, but he was still paranoid. It was risky delivering a shipment when their last delivery boy had been apprehended not three hours before hand on the same route.
But Lucrecia was waiting.
Taking slow, deliberate steps was all he could do to prevent the shipment of Mako inside the messenger bag from making any noise. Padding, after all, would have made him suspicious. Thankfully the weather was giving him a break and there was no rain or snow to speak of. Through it all, however, there was a weight in his chest that was determined to drag his heart into his stomach, and it was as if there was lead in his feet that dragged the Hybrid's shoes along the ground with every step.
Flipping Lexaeus open, he looked at the prompt for an address on the screen before once again glancing around the block. Just as he thought he was alone, a car rounded the bend. It was a familiar car- a blue truck with marker all up the side proclaiming illegible things to the world. Ambling down the road, it sputtered. Inside was its usual blond driver, staring at Zexion with surprise. Pulling up alongside the boy, Demyx laughed. "Need a lift?" he inquired, watched with humor as Zexion shoved his ungloved hands deep within his pockets. "What? Do you not trust me?" he laughed, gracing the boy with a grin. And with that, the heavy feeling in Zexion's stomach was gone, replaced instead with the bubbly feeling that seemed to accompany him whenever the blond was around.
Then the Hybrid recalled the missing instructions; Demyx had most likely found them and come to some kind of conclusion.
Despite how his gut screamed for him to stop, the small boy climbed into the car, tail twitching, ears back beneath his beanie. "Where are you headed?" the blond requested.
"1342 Cloudborn Street," the boy supplied as the car pulled away from the curb. Neither spoke a word until they cleared the block. "What brings you here?" Zexion asked, looking to his boyfriend in surprise.
The blond shrugged. "Looking for a new convenience store to buy cigarettes. I was rather attached to the clerk of the last one, but he was arrested. You might have seen it on the news- caught with poison."
Zexion, perplexed, turned to look at him in shock. "Ace?"
"That's the one." Silence overtook the car for another minute or so. "So when were you planning on telling me about this? The whole 'blackmail my computer, hack into the DTD mainframe, and arrange some sort of 'meeting' thing?"
Ears perked slightly at the sound of Demyx speaking before flattening themselves to slate hair as they had before. Shaking his head, Zexion admitted, "I wasn't planning on telling you at all."
"I see…" he mused. Glancing over at the smaller boy, who looked significantly cowed, he moved onto another matter. "So who's this 'Graceful Assassin' person?"
Zexion laughed. "He's our leader." Turning his eyes to the outside of the truck, the boy watched as house after house flew by.
Demyx blinked. "Okay; let me get this straight. You're carrying poison," he mused, pointing to the bag Zexion carried despite
how the boy gaped like a fish at the insinuation, "are part of a group with Hybrids in it that definitely isn't controlled by the government," this had the Hybrid hesitating before he finally nodded, "and are hacking into government files."
"What are you going to do?" the boy snapped, drawing the blond's attention from the road for a split second. "Lynch me?"
Demyx slammed on the break, nearly sending the Hybrid into cardiac arrest as he lurched forward in his seat, only for the seat belt to attempt to force itself through his ribs. "Who told you about that?" the blond mused, attempting to keep his voice even. It was a hopeless endeavor as the sound wavered and died in his throat halfway through his last word as he choked on the word.
"But you regret it," the Hybrid attempted, unsure. After a bit, the car started up again, and turns were made before the car stood before a very familiar house.
"Here we are," the boy whispered, motioning towards the house. "Drop off your poison," he quipped, sparing the Hybrid a glance before turning his eyes back to their previous focus on the road before the truck despite how they weren't moving. Zexion nodded, and moved to open the door. Before he could leave, however, a warm hand was on his arm, and he could feel the older boy's warmth through the sleeve. Only four words came from the boy's mouth, but they were enough to send him into a form of panic. "We need to talk." There was no arguing with this.
Time to face the music.
Quick Quiz: What is the origin of Mako?
Chapter 6