KH - Return :: Rewrite: Chapter Three, "Meet the Parents"
Return :: Rewrite
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Character: Demyx
Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance
Rating: T / PG-13
Chapters: 3/7
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.
Demyx stared at the photos a bit longer, almost as if he couldn't bring himself to withdraw from the memories within the images. Before too long, though, he made his way down the stepladder and scooped the black marker from its place on the floor. "I thought you said you were done," Arpeggio inquired as he moved the ladder to the end of the wall and made his way back up the steps, uncapping the marker as he went.
"There's one more to black out," he replied dully, raising the hand with the pen up to the final picture on the wall, only to stop short. Xion stared out at him from the photograph, eyes watering, cheek bruised, and all-together too real to be just a photo. It was a good angle- easily one of the best pictures he'd ever taken- but he blacked it out all the same. He began with her clothes, her limbs, her hair, and then the area around her. When he got to her face, however, he paused.
You really are just like everyone else, a voice in the back of his head, Xion's voice, slowly drawled.
Black went her face.
…
Carpet of the deepest shade of black possible greeted those who stepped into the room, and walls of an even darker tone seemed to steal the breath from your very lungs. A ceiling of the same color stared down at those who noticed, and those who didn't. The room itself was bare of any furniture beyond a square wooden box the deep red of stained mahogany. Two feet wide, two feet tall, it had two doors in front thrown open to reveal an altar within.
Zexion kneeled before a small alter between his parents, hands clasped together in silence. His mother, on his right, had her short black hair pulled back from her face with clips and wore a simple black robe contrasting sharply with her pale, alabaster skin. Her ears did not twitch, nor did her tail, opposed to her son's tail's automatic flicking every few seconds. Her ears, catlike, were a dark black, opposed to Zexion's light periwinkle. On Zexion's left knelt his father; a tall, blond man who oozed bad manners with his sloppy frown and unevenly tanned arms peeking out from his own black robe. His ears, like those of his wife and son, were those of a cat, though they were a shade of blond just darker than his hair, and his fur was much shorter than those of his family that it almost seemed as if he sported a five O'clock shadow. In short, he was the rugged counterpart to their silent, refined mannerisms.
"Zalera," the boy began when his mother nudged him, bowing to the small shrine, palms flat against the floor as he bent forward in respect. The shrine itself was simply a statue no larger than six inches in height of a skull-headed demon bearing a cape and a beautiful woman where his arm right arm would be. "Ruler of death, lord of judgment," he continued, "I beg of thee to guide me through the treacheries of life. I beg of thee the strength to complete the task that has been set before me in hope that our goal may be achieved. I beg of thee to take my soul, when my time comes, and judge it fairly." And with that he lift his head and his mother threw her arms around him.
"Do not worry. With a Seraph on your side there is no way you can fail," the woman happily announced. "Victory shall be ours." Zexion ignored this, brushing off his mother's arms as he left the room. When she moved to go after him her husband spoke.
"Leave him, Yuffie," he advised, voice dark with warning.
The woman sputtered. "But, Cid-"
"I have a feeling there's more to the mission he was assigned than he's letting on," the man announced, turning to his wife with a stern look. "Marluxia called- they're arranging for someone else to take Mako shipments to Lucrecia."
"What does that mean?" Cid stared down at his legs, refusing to meet his wife's eyes as he heaved a large sigh. "What does that mean, Cid?"
"It means," he began, turning his face up to meet her gaze, "our son's going to be put on the radar soon." He paused again, looking towards the altar with what appeared to be worry. "The Mako won't be safe with him after this- not if the mission starts going in the wrong direction."
"Does that mean-"
"Yeah," the man interrupted. "Someone changed his directive, and now we have to take precautions. Otherwise…" He laughed. "Something could blow up."
The woman remained silent for a while before turning to the shrine herself. "I'm going to pray a little more."
"You can pray all you like," the man scoffed, standing before making his way to the door. "I don't think Zalera will help him with this."
…
Placing one hand upon the recently washed counter, Kairi set her wash rag atop the stone as she admired her handiwork. Oak cabinets, dark stone counters, and floors of a bright white tile nearly sparkled from their cleaning, very nearly showing her reflection. The sink was spotless, clear of dishes and without any grime visible. Even the trash can was neat. "What do you think?" she bubbled, turning to Xion who was in nothing more than a loose dark blue shirt ending just a few inches below her hips, who stood in the doorway to the living room, which was a mess of clothes, furniture, and large quantities of what could only be described as stuff. In the background a gentle Indie-pop song softly drifted through the kitchen.
"It's great," the raven-haired girl laughed, pointing to the destruction behind her. "Now, how about you start on this one?" Despite the imminent peril awaiting her in the next room, Kairi laughed, too, moving forward to throw her arms around her sister's waist.
"What? No 'you're amazing, sis' or 'when you bend over like that you're really sexy, you know?' Something like that?" the redhead huskily drawled, moving from side to side along with the music. Xion stepped with her, draping her arms across her sister's shoulders in a methodic slow-dance. "In that case, let me tell you how sexy you are when you stand in the doorway like you did." Leaning forward to press their foreheads together, the girl stared deep into her sister's eyes, her own sparkling with what could only be classified as affection. "This shirt," she mused, fingers reaching down beneath the hem to smooth over the back of her sister's thighs, "leaves just enough to the imagination that my mind goes wild."
"Even though I'm so thin?" the girl asked, looking to her sister for confirmation.
Kairi grinned. "You're beautiful," she emphasized, taking Xion's face into her hands and placing a gentle kiss against the girl's lips. A knock at the front door started the girls apart. Kairi hissed a curse. "You might want to put something on besides that," she whispered, nudging Xion in a direction away from the front door. The girl nodded before leaning the kitchen. Smoothing her jeans and tee-shirt in place, the redhead walked towards the front door, peering out of the peep-hole.
"Who is it?" her sister called from down the hall.
"Zexion," she replied, pulling the door open to reveal said boy shivering in the hail-strewn lawn. It still hadn't melted from the day before. "To what do we owe the honor?" the girl inquired, ushering the boy into the house.
"I need to talk to Xion," he replied, breathing on cold fingers as his friend closed the door behind him. "Are you cleaning?"
"I'm about to, and she's in her room," she supplied. "Careful, though. She's changing." The boy nodded, making his way towards the hallway connected to the living room. Dodging through large quantities of dirty clothes, misplaced furniture, and two empty Mako containers he almost stepped on; he finally cleared the foyer, calling Kairi over to the clinking glass he'd nearly shattered. She gasped, looking to the containers in sheer horror before cleaning them up in haste, looking left and right as if to look for prying eyes.
Even steps brought him down the hall towards Xion's room, the immaculate white carpets beneath his feet muffling every step- Kairi had already done the hallways, it seemed. As he went along, the boy trailed a lazy finger along walls the exact shade of Kairi's feathers. Eventually his finger hit the frame to the door of the girl's bedroom, and his hand rose to knock. Three even beats rose out, slightly hollow, to join the music that oozed from the living room. It almost seemed to fit with the beat of the song, but Zexion knew that was just a coincidence.
"Who is it?" a voice called from inside, shortly followed by the rustle of clothing and a dull thump.
Leaning his head against the wood of the door, the boy sighed. I'm really going to do this, he thought to himself. The reality of the situation crashed down on him in that moment as it had seemed to do nearly every second since the moment he received the instructions from Larxene. "We need to talk," he replied instead, knowing she would recognize his voice.
The door flew open to reveal Xion in a simple jeans and tee shirt, blinking as if she were a doe in headlights. "What is it?"
"What happened last year?" he inquired, getting straight to the point.
Her expression darkened as she hissed, "That's not my story to tell." Turning from him, she moved to close the door. Throwing his foot forward in time to stop it, Zexion recalled what Larxene had said.
"Roxas says otherwise," he blindly announced. Whatever that meant, it worked and the raven-haired girl beckoned him inside with nothing more than a distressed expression.
Motioning for him to take a seat on her bed, Xion began to pace back and forth without a word. While he waited for her to find the words, Zexion looked about her room from his place upon her mattress. The walls were a light blue, the carpets white, and the furniture made of a general cherry wood. There was a desk covered in pens, pencils, and drawings of keys- her specialty. It was incredibly plain, her room; almost painfully so. With the bed covers the same color as her walls and a generic mattress that was incredibly stiff beneath him he began to silently marvel how good he had it in his own house. Here there was no computer, and the room was so cold he could easily come to the conclusion that there was no heating in the house. Zexion often forgot how other Hybrids families usually struggled to get by. Heating was a luxury not many could afford.
"Okay; so I lied," the girl finally announced, bringing him from his thoughts. "It kind of is my story to tell," she continued. "Last year, when I was a freshman, everyone seemed to think I was a human." Zexion could see them making this mistake; she didn't have any extra appendages and she was pretty. "The first person I met was Demyx, who was really popular last year- and I know what you're thinking," she laughed as the boy's face scrunched up in disbelief, "and I'll have you know he wasn't anything like what he's like now. And- well, I'm babbling. Long story short, we hit it off and I got popular. Eventually, Demyx and I started dating. Before long we were involved and around the end of the school year, after about eight months of pretty serious dating, it came out that I was a Hybrid.
"When he found out he slapped me- which I admit was mild considering he used to be part of a lynching group when he was a freshman- and we apparently broke up." She winced. "Umm… forget about the lynching thing. He was never really proud of that, even back then. Fact is, he let me off easy but he still broke up with me because I was a Hybrid. Ask Kairi- she was there."
Zexion fixed her with a blank stare. "In chronological order, he lynched Hybrids, stopped doing that, dated you, and then broke up with you because you were a Hybrid?" He blinked. "I expected more, no offense."
Her expression turned sour, then. "Well, umm…" she began, trailing off in uncertainty. "I might have been a little… well- pregnant." A charged silence passed between them at this, in which Zexion stared and Xion couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. "Say something," she whispered after a bit.
Choking back his actual question, Zexion requested, "What did you do about it?"
"I couldn't handle the baby," she managed, moving her gaze from the floor to the wall. "The council decided on abortion three months in."
Taking a deep breath, the boy finally gave into the real thing he wanted to ask. "Did Demyx… did you tell him?"
"I never got the chance," she gasped, barely able to find her voice. She'd been completely fine at the beginning of the talk, but now she was fighting off tears.
"How long ago was the abortion?" the boy asked after a bit, looking to the floor.
"It was in August- just before school started," she managed, voice cracking.
He sighed. "Four months ago…"
"Yeah- four months," she snapped, looking to Zexion now as he looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time since she opened the door. "It's been four months since the end of that nightmare and he has the cheek to walk up to us, take pictures, and flirt with you as if nothing has happened!" Her eyes were narrowed with rage, and Zexion found himself unable to look away as she continued, spitting words of acid. "I loved him- I really did- and he broke my heart because of what I was. Now he comes to you, someone who is obviously of the same specie, and dares to flirt with you in front of all of us while treating us like we're his friends? Like he didn't express his distaste for us in front of the entire school? I don't think so!" He'd never seen her like this- he'd never even seen her annoyed. She was the calm one, but here she was; yelling.
"You might want to quiet down a bit," he advised.
"Why? My parents are off on their yearly 'Anniversary-trip,'" she mockingly announced, placing quotations on the words with her fingers, "and they won't be back for another week." She laughed. "They're always gone, these days… but you know all about that, don't you Mr. Special Circumstances? Or should I call you the Cloaked Schemer?"
Looking up sharply, the boy met her eyes. "Where did you hear that name?"
"Doesn't matter," the girl replied, pointing to the door. "You've overstayed your welcome- it's time you go back to your assignment. You know- screwing Demyx?"
"It's not like that."
"Right," she giggled, as if she were making a cute joke. "So what does this have to do with your job, anyways?"
"I think I'm supposed to hate him."
"Did it work?"
"I think so."
…
To say that Zexion wasn't intimidated would be a lie.
After procuring Demyx's address from Kairi, who was more than happy to supply, as Xion shooed him out the door, Zexion had made his way over to the boy's house for the first time. Despite how the blond had offered for him to come over on many an occasion he had never actually gone, and now he was regretting it. That way he would have been prepared a little better. (In all honesty he would have gone before, simply for the sake of the job assigned to him by the council, but Demyx only asked on Fridays, which were the days he delivered Mako for his father.)
As it was, the Hybrid had to do a triple-take before it occurred to him that there was no way he was at the wrong house. He had been expecting Demyx to live in a reasonably-sized house in the suburbs. Two stories, white picket fence, and maybe a dog running around in the front yard that would bark at pedestrians and neighboring cats.
In reality, the house was atop a hill behind a wrought-iron fence that was nearly four times his height with an actual gate-keeper. The grounds within the gate were covered with thick forestry, and the house was more along the lines of a mansion- though Zexion guessed the proper term was "manor" considering how it seemed older than most of the houses on the block and seemed to have a regal air about it despite how he couldn't see it clearly from such a distance. Simply the fact that he could see the house through all the forestry was enough to tell him that it was three stories, at the least. He was so unsettled, in fact, that he would have gone home and tried another day if his tail hadn't started to go numb.
"How can I help you?" The guard was unusually friendly, obviously unconcerned by the fact that a Hybrid had walked up to the glass. From what Zexion could see he was stout, overweight, and getting to be old if his white hair and mustache had anything to attest to it. Through it all, though, his eyes sparkled in a way not unlike that of an elementary school child.
"I'm, uh…" the boy began, swallowing to coat his throat, which had gone dry in the cold December air.
"Press the button, son, and speak into the mic," the man advised.
Spotting a little green button just to the right of a microphone, Zexion nodded. Slipping the mic into a standing position, he pressed the little green button with one gloved finger. "I'm here to see Demyx," he managed, leaning towards the microphone sticking out from the glass. "Is he- uh- in?"
The man laughed. "Well, this is a first," he chuckled, drawing a confused expression from the boy. "Name, please?"
"Why?" the Hybrid inquired, almost panicking. He glanced to the man's name tag- Maurice.
"He has to know who's here, doesn't he?" the man stated rather than asked, pressing a button. A short buzzing sound came from a speaker inside as well as
"Hello?" a woman's voice came from the same speaker Maurice's voice came from.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Naminé; is Demyx about? He has a guest- what did you say your name was?" he asked, focusing once more on Zexion.
"I didn't," the Hybrid replied. "Zexion Kisaragi."
"Well this is a first… I'll send a car down," the woman replied. "Please be patient, Mr. Kisaragi."
"Umm… sure," the boy replied, still trying to get over the initial shock of the fact that Demyx was rich. Or his parents were, anyways. Of course, what really puzzled him were their comments. "Could you not tell him I'm coming until I'm there, though? I'd like it to be a surprise."
"Of course."
Within minutes a car arrived at the front gate and Zexion found himself being hustled inside by a kind-looking blonde woman. The interior was leather, the seats warm, and through it all he tried to hide the fact that he was freaking out considering he was in a Porsche. They had a Porsche picking guests up from the front gate? What was that about?
"Nearly all the staff has Sundays off," the woman announced from the front seat, glancing back at him through the rear-view mirror, "so I came to get you myself. I'm Mrs. Atkin Downes- Demyx's mother. I just have everyone call me 'Naminé,' though." After several moments of silence, the Hybrid caught himself and mumbled an introduction. "So you're Zexion, huh?" she announced happily. "I imagined you to bit a bit more young-looking, the way he goes on. In fact, you look unusually serious for someone your age."
"He's talked to you about me?"
"In passing."
"But you just said 'the way he goes on.'"
"He doesn't really say it to us," she replied, her tone neither foreboding nor sweet in a way that Zexion couldn't bring himself to follow up the statement. Though he didn't understand he left it at that as she pulled up before the massive house atop the hill, motioning for him to get out of the car. When he did he winced. The car had warmed his tail, and the cold air took the opportunity to bite into it with vigor now that it could feel. Before long, though, they were inside and he could relax in the grandeur of the foyer, even though it didn't feel completely natural to do so among the splendor that was marble and ornately carved exotic wood. "I'll lead you to his room," Naminé announced, reminding Zexion just why he was there. Tensing, he followed.
A staircase, two hallways, and a surprising elevator later he found himself on the fourth floor in front of a blue door with Demyx's mother announcing that he had a guest before leaving. Part of Zexion wanted her to stay just so that he wouldn't have to be alone. Before long, though, the woman was gone and he was just that; alone. He had no moral support, there was no one to nudge him and say "it's alright if you fail," and he really had to do this on his own.
The door flew open, as did the blond's eyes; eyes he avoided looking into. Silence ensued.
"Is that all you have to say?" the Hybrid managed, attempting to laugh. He fell silent when there was no response to this. Instead, he admired the nice swell present in the taller boy's cheek.
"Why are you here?" the blond whispered, almost in shock.
Looking down, the Hybrid shrugged. "To say I'm sorry, I guess."
"For what?" the boy inquired, almost as if he were grasping for straws.
"Hitting you, yelling at you, and…" He bit his lip. "I'm sorry for turning you down, too." The words were rehearsed, and they even sounded it. "I figured you thought I was an easy lay, but-"
"Zexion, I'm in love with you," the blond interrupted, startling the boy in question to look up sharply, their eyes meeting with a nearly audible snap as they clicked into place. It almost seemed to be default, how they couldn't look away; Zexion, especially. "What I mean is…" Demyx trailed off, and the shorter boy knew that all that rehearsal had amounted to nearly nothing. That call to Larxene, talking to Xion- it was all worthless. He was supposed to hate Demyx. But in that moment, his eyes locked with the blond's, he couldn't bring himself to. "Would you go out with me?"
He should have said no; should have turned him down. Feelings would only hurt him in the end. The rook had to capture the knight, not the other way around. Zexion knew the moment he opened his mouth he would be doomed, but he did it anyways.
"Yes."
Wiry, wonderfully solid, warm arms enveloped the Hybrid, pulling him into a body as hard as a tree, nearly knocking the wind from him. Wet kisses were pressed to his forehead, cheeks, ears, hair- even his neck was decorated with a smattering of affection. Within seconds, Zexion found himself leaning into the butterfly-light touches of the older boy. This went on for a while, before that same pair of lips found the corner of his mouth before hastily pulling away. No move was made as their eyes went to default, locking on each others' as they did before. Demyx's, wide, asked permission, and Zexion found himself nodding.
Relief flooded the other boy, and he visibly relaxed, only to tense in once more. Biting his lip, Demyx moved in once, only to pull back. It was a sharp movement; nervous. Licking his lips, the blond's gaze moved from Zexion's eyes to his lips, then again, in quick succession. Then, he jerked forward and placed his lips against the Hybrids, clenching his eyes shut, only to move back almost immediately. He's like a child, trying to figure out how to kiss, Zexion thought endearingly despite himself. Like a virgin touching someone for the first time, he continued mentually, though he knew this was not the case at all.
Placing himself on a limb, Zexion moved forward on his own, pressing a delicate kiss against Demyx's lips. The action itself required him to move up until he was resting his entire weight on his toes (he refused to admit to standing on "tippie-toe" because he wasn't some sappy girl) and rest his hands against the blond's shoulders for balance. His efforts were rewarded, though, when the taller boy leaned down to meet him, forcing him onto his heels, and cupped his face in his hands. Gone were the nerves, and in their place were kisses as confident as they had been in Zexion's room. Lips eagerly smoothed over his in a way that made his knees melt so fast he had to rest nearly all his weight on the blond's shoulders to catch his fall. Before Zexion knew what was happening, Demyx had wrapped the Hybrids legs around his waist and pinned him to the door frame. The kisses that followed were harder, more desperate, and Zexion found his mouth opening to the older boy. Oddly enough, the blond tasted sweet- almost like a strawberry lozenge.
Ignoring the heat building within him, which he knew Demyx could feel against his stomach, the Hybrid pushed the older boy away. "We should stop," he announced, blushing all different shades of red yet still managing to keep his voice even. This earned him a grin, and a look that spelled some sort of epiphany.
"I want you to meet someone," the blond stated, bending over to lift Zexion bridal style (despite complaints being made) to carry him to his computer chair. "Zexion, meet Peggy- and vice versa."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Zexion," the computer charmed, her icon grinning.
"Nice to meet you, too," Zexion hesitantly replied, looking at the program with something akin to amazement, then suspicion.
"My, my- don't you look ruffled! You didn't have too much fun, I hope?"
"Peggy!" Demyx yelped in embarrassment, flashing shades of red Zexion had never been sure could exist on a person's face. "Could you possibly, I don't know, not make any lewd jokes? At least while Zexion's here?" All he received was a laugh. "Would you like some hot chocolate?" he offered, turning to the shorter boy.
"Sure," he replied, cracking a satisfied smile as the blond advised him to get to know Peggy a bit better and left. His smile dropped, then, as something dawned on him. "Well- that was simple enough."
"What was?" Arpeggio inquired.
"Let's get down to business," the Hybrid commanded, turning to the computer. "Here's the thing- it's my job to get Demyx on our side, but if I gain control of you that won't be required any more."
"What are you talking about?" the program mused, the woman on the screen pulling out a file and working on her nails.
"I know very well that you have been illegally writing your own data- you have the same layout as my
Lexaeus," he announced, looking pointedly at her menu bar, "yet your conversational skills, vocal fluidity, and compatibility with a video camera are beyond your model- beyond any model."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the program replied, icon stubbornly turning away from Zexion with a frown.
Giving the digital woman a sharp stare, the boy hissed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, and if you don't want me turning you in for A.I. programming oversteps, requesting a full program and personality deletion, then you'll give me full access to everything within your reach." His voice was clipped, even, and pure business leaving no room for argument. "With the obvious error in your learning capability limitations it should be easy to receive government cooperation, which could get Demyx in trouble. Neither of us want that, though, do we?"
A short silence followed before the program replied. "Fine," she smoothed out, successfully masking any emotion that would have been evident in her voice had she been human. "You have to promise to leave Demyx out of this, though, whatever it is."
"Good," the boy scoffed around a smirk. "And don't forget to record my voice for recognized general computer functions."
"I already have."
"And hide any capabilities from prying eyes," he warned. "You've already slipped once, and if you slip again that individual might not want anything more than a deletion to occur."
"I'll keep that in mind," the program hissed quietly just as Demyx stepped into the room, steaming mugs in hand.
…
Monday did not spawn bright and sunny, the birds were not chirping, and the world had yet to come out of its hibernation. There were no flowers sprouting into existence to defy the oppressing Winter snows that still piled about, and ice coated nearly every inch of what would have been plants if they weren't a depressing definitely-dead brown. Instead, Demyx woke to the same pitch-black, windowless, curtained room he always did. The only significant thing about that morning was how he didn't jump out of bed eager to see Zexion as he usually did. Turning about, he threw his arm around the warm body beside him, pulling it into the curve of his stomach with a smile. Stirring, the figure groaned before cat-like ears twitched and the being slowly regained consciousness.
Dry lips pressed gently against a shoulder clad in a tee-shirt that swamped the boy beside him. The blond grinned at the smaller boy within his grasp, chuckling lightly as the Hybrid stretched in the early morning hours. Glancing to his time-tattoo, which glowed a gentle neon green in the lack of morning light, the taller boy smiled. "Good morning, Zexion," he breathed, nibbling a line along the back of the Hybrid's neck, taking care not to brush the fur the wrong way.
Squirming within the blond's grip, Zexion gasped. "I'm going to be late," he managed, half-succumbing to the boy's ministrations.
"Relax," Demyx advised, nuzzling the boy's hair, breathing in his scent. "It's Winter Break- we've got
nothing to be late for."
"No- that's- it's…" Zexion trailed off as he began to wake up. "Never mind," he advised, snuggling further into his boyfriend's arms. The blond surveyed the smaller boy in his arms for a second before shrugging the event off. It was probably nothing.
Nothing, indeed.
Quick Quiz: Aside from the obvious "String Street," what is the significance in Demyx's address.
Chapter 4
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Character: Demyx
Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance
Rating: T / PG-13
Chapters: 3/7
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.
Demyx stared at the photos a bit longer, almost as if he couldn't bring himself to withdraw from the memories within the images. Before too long, though, he made his way down the stepladder and scooped the black marker from its place on the floor. "I thought you said you were done," Arpeggio inquired as he moved the ladder to the end of the wall and made his way back up the steps, uncapping the marker as he went.
"There's one more to black out," he replied dully, raising the hand with the pen up to the final picture on the wall, only to stop short. Xion stared out at him from the photograph, eyes watering, cheek bruised, and all-together too real to be just a photo. It was a good angle- easily one of the best pictures he'd ever taken- but he blacked it out all the same. He began with her clothes, her limbs, her hair, and then the area around her. When he got to her face, however, he paused.
You really are just like everyone else, a voice in the back of his head, Xion's voice, slowly drawled.
Black went her face.
…
Carpet of the deepest shade of black possible greeted those who stepped into the room, and walls of an even darker tone seemed to steal the breath from your very lungs. A ceiling of the same color stared down at those who noticed, and those who didn't. The room itself was bare of any furniture beyond a square wooden box the deep red of stained mahogany. Two feet wide, two feet tall, it had two doors in front thrown open to reveal an altar within.
Zexion kneeled before a small alter between his parents, hands clasped together in silence. His mother, on his right, had her short black hair pulled back from her face with clips and wore a simple black robe contrasting sharply with her pale, alabaster skin. Her ears did not twitch, nor did her tail, opposed to her son's tail's automatic flicking every few seconds. Her ears, catlike, were a dark black, opposed to Zexion's light periwinkle. On Zexion's left knelt his father; a tall, blond man who oozed bad manners with his sloppy frown and unevenly tanned arms peeking out from his own black robe. His ears, like those of his wife and son, were those of a cat, though they were a shade of blond just darker than his hair, and his fur was much shorter than those of his family that it almost seemed as if he sported a five O'clock shadow. In short, he was the rugged counterpart to their silent, refined mannerisms.
"Zalera," the boy began when his mother nudged him, bowing to the small shrine, palms flat against the floor as he bent forward in respect. The shrine itself was simply a statue no larger than six inches in height of a skull-headed demon bearing a cape and a beautiful woman where his arm right arm would be. "Ruler of death, lord of judgment," he continued, "I beg of thee to guide me through the treacheries of life. I beg of thee the strength to complete the task that has been set before me in hope that our goal may be achieved. I beg of thee to take my soul, when my time comes, and judge it fairly." And with that he lift his head and his mother threw her arms around him.
"Do not worry. With a Seraph on your side there is no way you can fail," the woman happily announced. "Victory shall be ours." Zexion ignored this, brushing off his mother's arms as he left the room. When she moved to go after him her husband spoke.
"Leave him, Yuffie," he advised, voice dark with warning.
The woman sputtered. "But, Cid-"
"I have a feeling there's more to the mission he was assigned than he's letting on," the man announced, turning to his wife with a stern look. "Marluxia called- they're arranging for someone else to take Mako shipments to Lucrecia."
"What does that mean?" Cid stared down at his legs, refusing to meet his wife's eyes as he heaved a large sigh. "What does that mean, Cid?"
"It means," he began, turning his face up to meet her gaze, "our son's going to be put on the radar soon." He paused again, looking towards the altar with what appeared to be worry. "The Mako won't be safe with him after this- not if the mission starts going in the wrong direction."
"Does that mean-"
"Yeah," the man interrupted. "Someone changed his directive, and now we have to take precautions. Otherwise…" He laughed. "Something could blow up."
The woman remained silent for a while before turning to the shrine herself. "I'm going to pray a little more."
"You can pray all you like," the man scoffed, standing before making his way to the door. "I don't think Zalera will help him with this."
…
Placing one hand upon the recently washed counter, Kairi set her wash rag atop the stone as she admired her handiwork. Oak cabinets, dark stone counters, and floors of a bright white tile nearly sparkled from their cleaning, very nearly showing her reflection. The sink was spotless, clear of dishes and without any grime visible. Even the trash can was neat. "What do you think?" she bubbled, turning to Xion who was in nothing more than a loose dark blue shirt ending just a few inches below her hips, who stood in the doorway to the living room, which was a mess of clothes, furniture, and large quantities of what could only be described as stuff. In the background a gentle Indie-pop song softly drifted through the kitchen.
"It's great," the raven-haired girl laughed, pointing to the destruction behind her. "Now, how about you start on this one?" Despite the imminent peril awaiting her in the next room, Kairi laughed, too, moving forward to throw her arms around her sister's waist.
"What? No 'you're amazing, sis' or 'when you bend over like that you're really sexy, you know?' Something like that?" the redhead huskily drawled, moving from side to side along with the music. Xion stepped with her, draping her arms across her sister's shoulders in a methodic slow-dance. "In that case, let me tell you how sexy you are when you stand in the doorway like you did." Leaning forward to press their foreheads together, the girl stared deep into her sister's eyes, her own sparkling with what could only be classified as affection. "This shirt," she mused, fingers reaching down beneath the hem to smooth over the back of her sister's thighs, "leaves just enough to the imagination that my mind goes wild."
"Even though I'm so thin?" the girl asked, looking to her sister for confirmation.
Kairi grinned. "You're beautiful," she emphasized, taking Xion's face into her hands and placing a gentle kiss against the girl's lips. A knock at the front door started the girls apart. Kairi hissed a curse. "You might want to put something on besides that," she whispered, nudging Xion in a direction away from the front door. The girl nodded before leaning the kitchen. Smoothing her jeans and tee-shirt in place, the redhead walked towards the front door, peering out of the peep-hole.
"Who is it?" her sister called from down the hall.
"Zexion," she replied, pulling the door open to reveal said boy shivering in the hail-strewn lawn. It still hadn't melted from the day before. "To what do we owe the honor?" the girl inquired, ushering the boy into the house.
"I need to talk to Xion," he replied, breathing on cold fingers as his friend closed the door behind him. "Are you cleaning?"
"I'm about to, and she's in her room," she supplied. "Careful, though. She's changing." The boy nodded, making his way towards the hallway connected to the living room. Dodging through large quantities of dirty clothes, misplaced furniture, and two empty Mako containers he almost stepped on; he finally cleared the foyer, calling Kairi over to the clinking glass he'd nearly shattered. She gasped, looking to the containers in sheer horror before cleaning them up in haste, looking left and right as if to look for prying eyes.
Even steps brought him down the hall towards Xion's room, the immaculate white carpets beneath his feet muffling every step- Kairi had already done the hallways, it seemed. As he went along, the boy trailed a lazy finger along walls the exact shade of Kairi's feathers. Eventually his finger hit the frame to the door of the girl's bedroom, and his hand rose to knock. Three even beats rose out, slightly hollow, to join the music that oozed from the living room. It almost seemed to fit with the beat of the song, but Zexion knew that was just a coincidence.
"Who is it?" a voice called from inside, shortly followed by the rustle of clothing and a dull thump.
Leaning his head against the wood of the door, the boy sighed. I'm really going to do this, he thought to himself. The reality of the situation crashed down on him in that moment as it had seemed to do nearly every second since the moment he received the instructions from Larxene. "We need to talk," he replied instead, knowing she would recognize his voice.
The door flew open to reveal Xion in a simple jeans and tee shirt, blinking as if she were a doe in headlights. "What is it?"
"What happened last year?" he inquired, getting straight to the point.
Her expression darkened as she hissed, "That's not my story to tell." Turning from him, she moved to close the door. Throwing his foot forward in time to stop it, Zexion recalled what Larxene had said.
"Roxas says otherwise," he blindly announced. Whatever that meant, it worked and the raven-haired girl beckoned him inside with nothing more than a distressed expression.
Motioning for him to take a seat on her bed, Xion began to pace back and forth without a word. While he waited for her to find the words, Zexion looked about her room from his place upon her mattress. The walls were a light blue, the carpets white, and the furniture made of a general cherry wood. There was a desk covered in pens, pencils, and drawings of keys- her specialty. It was incredibly plain, her room; almost painfully so. With the bed covers the same color as her walls and a generic mattress that was incredibly stiff beneath him he began to silently marvel how good he had it in his own house. Here there was no computer, and the room was so cold he could easily come to the conclusion that there was no heating in the house. Zexion often forgot how other Hybrids families usually struggled to get by. Heating was a luxury not many could afford.
"Okay; so I lied," the girl finally announced, bringing him from his thoughts. "It kind of is my story to tell," she continued. "Last year, when I was a freshman, everyone seemed to think I was a human." Zexion could see them making this mistake; she didn't have any extra appendages and she was pretty. "The first person I met was Demyx, who was really popular last year- and I know what you're thinking," she laughed as the boy's face scrunched up in disbelief, "and I'll have you know he wasn't anything like what he's like now. And- well, I'm babbling. Long story short, we hit it off and I got popular. Eventually, Demyx and I started dating. Before long we were involved and around the end of the school year, after about eight months of pretty serious dating, it came out that I was a Hybrid.
"When he found out he slapped me- which I admit was mild considering he used to be part of a lynching group when he was a freshman- and we apparently broke up." She winced. "Umm… forget about the lynching thing. He was never really proud of that, even back then. Fact is, he let me off easy but he still broke up with me because I was a Hybrid. Ask Kairi- she was there."
Zexion fixed her with a blank stare. "In chronological order, he lynched Hybrids, stopped doing that, dated you, and then broke up with you because you were a Hybrid?" He blinked. "I expected more, no offense."
Her expression turned sour, then. "Well, umm…" she began, trailing off in uncertainty. "I might have been a little… well- pregnant." A charged silence passed between them at this, in which Zexion stared and Xion couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. "Say something," she whispered after a bit.
Choking back his actual question, Zexion requested, "What did you do about it?"
"I couldn't handle the baby," she managed, moving her gaze from the floor to the wall. "The council decided on abortion three months in."
Taking a deep breath, the boy finally gave into the real thing he wanted to ask. "Did Demyx… did you tell him?"
"I never got the chance," she gasped, barely able to find her voice. She'd been completely fine at the beginning of the talk, but now she was fighting off tears.
"How long ago was the abortion?" the boy asked after a bit, looking to the floor.
"It was in August- just before school started," she managed, voice cracking.
He sighed. "Four months ago…"
"Yeah- four months," she snapped, looking to Zexion now as he looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time since she opened the door. "It's been four months since the end of that nightmare and he has the cheek to walk up to us, take pictures, and flirt with you as if nothing has happened!" Her eyes were narrowed with rage, and Zexion found himself unable to look away as she continued, spitting words of acid. "I loved him- I really did- and he broke my heart because of what I was. Now he comes to you, someone who is obviously of the same specie, and dares to flirt with you in front of all of us while treating us like we're his friends? Like he didn't express his distaste for us in front of the entire school? I don't think so!" He'd never seen her like this- he'd never even seen her annoyed. She was the calm one, but here she was; yelling.
"You might want to quiet down a bit," he advised.
"Why? My parents are off on their yearly 'Anniversary-trip,'" she mockingly announced, placing quotations on the words with her fingers, "and they won't be back for another week." She laughed. "They're always gone, these days… but you know all about that, don't you Mr. Special Circumstances? Or should I call you the Cloaked Schemer?"
Looking up sharply, the boy met her eyes. "Where did you hear that name?"
"Doesn't matter," the girl replied, pointing to the door. "You've overstayed your welcome- it's time you go back to your assignment. You know- screwing Demyx?"
"It's not like that."
"Right," she giggled, as if she were making a cute joke. "So what does this have to do with your job, anyways?"
"I think I'm supposed to hate him."
"Did it work?"
"I think so."
…
To say that Zexion wasn't intimidated would be a lie.
After procuring Demyx's address from Kairi, who was more than happy to supply, as Xion shooed him out the door, Zexion had made his way over to the boy's house for the first time. Despite how the blond had offered for him to come over on many an occasion he had never actually gone, and now he was regretting it. That way he would have been prepared a little better. (In all honesty he would have gone before, simply for the sake of the job assigned to him by the council, but Demyx only asked on Fridays, which were the days he delivered Mako for his father.)
As it was, the Hybrid had to do a triple-take before it occurred to him that there was no way he was at the wrong house. He had been expecting Demyx to live in a reasonably-sized house in the suburbs. Two stories, white picket fence, and maybe a dog running around in the front yard that would bark at pedestrians and neighboring cats.
In reality, the house was atop a hill behind a wrought-iron fence that was nearly four times his height with an actual gate-keeper. The grounds within the gate were covered with thick forestry, and the house was more along the lines of a mansion- though Zexion guessed the proper term was "manor" considering how it seemed older than most of the houses on the block and seemed to have a regal air about it despite how he couldn't see it clearly from such a distance. Simply the fact that he could see the house through all the forestry was enough to tell him that it was three stories, at the least. He was so unsettled, in fact, that he would have gone home and tried another day if his tail hadn't started to go numb.
"How can I help you?" The guard was unusually friendly, obviously unconcerned by the fact that a Hybrid had walked up to the glass. From what Zexion could see he was stout, overweight, and getting to be old if his white hair and mustache had anything to attest to it. Through it all, though, his eyes sparkled in a way not unlike that of an elementary school child.
"I'm, uh…" the boy began, swallowing to coat his throat, which had gone dry in the cold December air.
"Press the button, son, and speak into the mic," the man advised.
Spotting a little green button just to the right of a microphone, Zexion nodded. Slipping the mic into a standing position, he pressed the little green button with one gloved finger. "I'm here to see Demyx," he managed, leaning towards the microphone sticking out from the glass. "Is he- uh- in?"
The man laughed. "Well, this is a first," he chuckled, drawing a confused expression from the boy. "Name, please?"
"Why?" the Hybrid inquired, almost panicking. He glanced to the man's name tag- Maurice.
"He has to know who's here, doesn't he?" the man stated rather than asked, pressing a button. A short buzzing sound came from a speaker inside as well as
"Hello?" a woman's voice came from the same speaker Maurice's voice came from.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Naminé; is Demyx about? He has a guest- what did you say your name was?" he asked, focusing once more on Zexion.
"I didn't," the Hybrid replied. "Zexion Kisaragi."
"Well this is a first… I'll send a car down," the woman replied. "Please be patient, Mr. Kisaragi."
"Umm… sure," the boy replied, still trying to get over the initial shock of the fact that Demyx was rich. Or his parents were, anyways. Of course, what really puzzled him were their comments. "Could you not tell him I'm coming until I'm there, though? I'd like it to be a surprise."
"Of course."
Within minutes a car arrived at the front gate and Zexion found himself being hustled inside by a kind-looking blonde woman. The interior was leather, the seats warm, and through it all he tried to hide the fact that he was freaking out considering he was in a Porsche. They had a Porsche picking guests up from the front gate? What was that about?
"Nearly all the staff has Sundays off," the woman announced from the front seat, glancing back at him through the rear-view mirror, "so I came to get you myself. I'm Mrs. Atkin Downes- Demyx's mother. I just have everyone call me 'Naminé,' though." After several moments of silence, the Hybrid caught himself and mumbled an introduction. "So you're Zexion, huh?" she announced happily. "I imagined you to bit a bit more young-looking, the way he goes on. In fact, you look unusually serious for someone your age."
"He's talked to you about me?"
"In passing."
"But you just said 'the way he goes on.'"
"He doesn't really say it to us," she replied, her tone neither foreboding nor sweet in a way that Zexion couldn't bring himself to follow up the statement. Though he didn't understand he left it at that as she pulled up before the massive house atop the hill, motioning for him to get out of the car. When he did he winced. The car had warmed his tail, and the cold air took the opportunity to bite into it with vigor now that it could feel. Before long, though, they were inside and he could relax in the grandeur of the foyer, even though it didn't feel completely natural to do so among the splendor that was marble and ornately carved exotic wood. "I'll lead you to his room," Naminé announced, reminding Zexion just why he was there. Tensing, he followed.
A staircase, two hallways, and a surprising elevator later he found himself on the fourth floor in front of a blue door with Demyx's mother announcing that he had a guest before leaving. Part of Zexion wanted her to stay just so that he wouldn't have to be alone. Before long, though, the woman was gone and he was just that; alone. He had no moral support, there was no one to nudge him and say "it's alright if you fail," and he really had to do this on his own.
The door flew open, as did the blond's eyes; eyes he avoided looking into. Silence ensued.
"Is that all you have to say?" the Hybrid managed, attempting to laugh. He fell silent when there was no response to this. Instead, he admired the nice swell present in the taller boy's cheek.
"Why are you here?" the blond whispered, almost in shock.
Looking down, the Hybrid shrugged. "To say I'm sorry, I guess."
"For what?" the boy inquired, almost as if he were grasping for straws.
"Hitting you, yelling at you, and…" He bit his lip. "I'm sorry for turning you down, too." The words were rehearsed, and they even sounded it. "I figured you thought I was an easy lay, but-"
"Zexion, I'm in love with you," the blond interrupted, startling the boy in question to look up sharply, their eyes meeting with a nearly audible snap as they clicked into place. It almost seemed to be default, how they couldn't look away; Zexion, especially. "What I mean is…" Demyx trailed off, and the shorter boy knew that all that rehearsal had amounted to nearly nothing. That call to Larxene, talking to Xion- it was all worthless. He was supposed to hate Demyx. But in that moment, his eyes locked with the blond's, he couldn't bring himself to. "Would you go out with me?"
He should have said no; should have turned him down. Feelings would only hurt him in the end. The rook had to capture the knight, not the other way around. Zexion knew the moment he opened his mouth he would be doomed, but he did it anyways.
"Yes."
Wiry, wonderfully solid, warm arms enveloped the Hybrid, pulling him into a body as hard as a tree, nearly knocking the wind from him. Wet kisses were pressed to his forehead, cheeks, ears, hair- even his neck was decorated with a smattering of affection. Within seconds, Zexion found himself leaning into the butterfly-light touches of the older boy. This went on for a while, before that same pair of lips found the corner of his mouth before hastily pulling away. No move was made as their eyes went to default, locking on each others' as they did before. Demyx's, wide, asked permission, and Zexion found himself nodding.
Relief flooded the other boy, and he visibly relaxed, only to tense in once more. Biting his lip, Demyx moved in once, only to pull back. It was a sharp movement; nervous. Licking his lips, the blond's gaze moved from Zexion's eyes to his lips, then again, in quick succession. Then, he jerked forward and placed his lips against the Hybrids, clenching his eyes shut, only to move back almost immediately. He's like a child, trying to figure out how to kiss, Zexion thought endearingly despite himself. Like a virgin touching someone for the first time, he continued mentually, though he knew this was not the case at all.
Placing himself on a limb, Zexion moved forward on his own, pressing a delicate kiss against Demyx's lips. The action itself required him to move up until he was resting his entire weight on his toes (he refused to admit to standing on "tippie-toe" because he wasn't some sappy girl) and rest his hands against the blond's shoulders for balance. His efforts were rewarded, though, when the taller boy leaned down to meet him, forcing him onto his heels, and cupped his face in his hands. Gone were the nerves, and in their place were kisses as confident as they had been in Zexion's room. Lips eagerly smoothed over his in a way that made his knees melt so fast he had to rest nearly all his weight on the blond's shoulders to catch his fall. Before Zexion knew what was happening, Demyx had wrapped the Hybrids legs around his waist and pinned him to the door frame. The kisses that followed were harder, more desperate, and Zexion found his mouth opening to the older boy. Oddly enough, the blond tasted sweet- almost like a strawberry lozenge.
Ignoring the heat building within him, which he knew Demyx could feel against his stomach, the Hybrid pushed the older boy away. "We should stop," he announced, blushing all different shades of red yet still managing to keep his voice even. This earned him a grin, and a look that spelled some sort of epiphany.
"I want you to meet someone," the blond stated, bending over to lift Zexion bridal style (despite complaints being made) to carry him to his computer chair. "Zexion, meet Peggy- and vice versa."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Zexion," the computer charmed, her icon grinning.
"Nice to meet you, too," Zexion hesitantly replied, looking at the program with something akin to amazement, then suspicion.
"My, my- don't you look ruffled! You didn't have too much fun, I hope?"
"Peggy!" Demyx yelped in embarrassment, flashing shades of red Zexion had never been sure could exist on a person's face. "Could you possibly, I don't know, not make any lewd jokes? At least while Zexion's here?" All he received was a laugh. "Would you like some hot chocolate?" he offered, turning to the shorter boy.
"Sure," he replied, cracking a satisfied smile as the blond advised him to get to know Peggy a bit better and left. His smile dropped, then, as something dawned on him. "Well- that was simple enough."
"What was?" Arpeggio inquired.
"Let's get down to business," the Hybrid commanded, turning to the computer. "Here's the thing- it's my job to get Demyx on our side, but if I gain control of you that won't be required any more."
"What are you talking about?" the program mused, the woman on the screen pulling out a file and working on her nails.
"I know very well that you have been illegally writing your own data- you have the same layout as my
Lexaeus," he announced, looking pointedly at her menu bar, "yet your conversational skills, vocal fluidity, and compatibility with a video camera are beyond your model- beyond any model."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the program replied, icon stubbornly turning away from Zexion with a frown.
Giving the digital woman a sharp stare, the boy hissed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, and if you don't want me turning you in for A.I. programming oversteps, requesting a full program and personality deletion, then you'll give me full access to everything within your reach." His voice was clipped, even, and pure business leaving no room for argument. "With the obvious error in your learning capability limitations it should be easy to receive government cooperation, which could get Demyx in trouble. Neither of us want that, though, do we?"
A short silence followed before the program replied. "Fine," she smoothed out, successfully masking any emotion that would have been evident in her voice had she been human. "You have to promise to leave Demyx out of this, though, whatever it is."
"Good," the boy scoffed around a smirk. "And don't forget to record my voice for recognized general computer functions."
"I already have."
"And hide any capabilities from prying eyes," he warned. "You've already slipped once, and if you slip again that individual might not want anything more than a deletion to occur."
"I'll keep that in mind," the program hissed quietly just as Demyx stepped into the room, steaming mugs in hand.
…
Monday did not spawn bright and sunny, the birds were not chirping, and the world had yet to come out of its hibernation. There were no flowers sprouting into existence to defy the oppressing Winter snows that still piled about, and ice coated nearly every inch of what would have been plants if they weren't a depressing definitely-dead brown. Instead, Demyx woke to the same pitch-black, windowless, curtained room he always did. The only significant thing about that morning was how he didn't jump out of bed eager to see Zexion as he usually did. Turning about, he threw his arm around the warm body beside him, pulling it into the curve of his stomach with a smile. Stirring, the figure groaned before cat-like ears twitched and the being slowly regained consciousness.
Dry lips pressed gently against a shoulder clad in a tee-shirt that swamped the boy beside him. The blond grinned at the smaller boy within his grasp, chuckling lightly as the Hybrid stretched in the early morning hours. Glancing to his time-tattoo, which glowed a gentle neon green in the lack of morning light, the taller boy smiled. "Good morning, Zexion," he breathed, nibbling a line along the back of the Hybrid's neck, taking care not to brush the fur the wrong way.
Squirming within the blond's grip, Zexion gasped. "I'm going to be late," he managed, half-succumbing to the boy's ministrations.
"Relax," Demyx advised, nuzzling the boy's hair, breathing in his scent. "It's Winter Break- we've got
nothing to be late for."
"No- that's- it's…" Zexion trailed off as he began to wake up. "Never mind," he advised, snuggling further into his boyfriend's arms. The blond surveyed the smaller boy in his arms for a second before shrugging the event off. It was probably nothing.
Nothing, indeed.
Quick Quiz: Aside from the obvious "String Street," what is the significance in Demyx's address.
Chapter 4