Embers (part three) [Kingdom Hearts, Axel/Roxas/Naminé, R]

[syvia]

Title: Embers (Part Three)
Author/Artist: syvia
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult language, situations
Word Count: 30,000 + (and counting)
Summary: Axel’s story, in his own words. The Elders set Marluxia up long before the Organization moved into Castle Oblivion.
Prompt: - Kingdom Hearts, Axel/Roxas/Naminé: Warmth/companionship - "Whenever I'm with them, I feel like I have my heart back."
Author's Notes: Many thanks to crimsoncookie for the beta, also to osmandias and kawaiigami for their help and encouragement.

Part One, Part Two


"What the hell was that?"

We stood where I'd dropped us into Never Was. Roxas put the Keyblade away. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched. I wondered what his face looked like. He wouldn't look up and shook his head. There was something in his voice-

"I don't know."

Oooh, strain. Tension. Naminé didn't affect everyone the same way, but she affected the hell out of them.

"You don't know?" I drawled. We couldn't let the kid relapse- not when he was doing so well. "You were about to bust on a higher ranked Number for 'I don't know'?" I said, a little nasty, a little insulting. But this time maybe I'd get a reaction.

"I-" he shifted his weight. I could hear his gloves creaking and he clenched his hands- unclenched. That was Saïx' move- like his fingers were just waiting to grab his sword, whether or not his mind decided it was a good idea. Then I did something that sounds stupid, but hey- I'm a risk-taker.

I grabbed his arm.

He swung at me.

I jerked back, heard the damn thing brush my coat. This one was sharp enough to cut. The other one I could remember easy, still can even if he never really used it again. Simple round blade, four teeth at the at the end, gold grip and the King's-head symbol hanging from a chain at the end. Keyblade's more of a club than a sword. There's beating your enemies, and then there's beating them in.

A second later the chakrams were out and we were fighting in... a random hallway not important enough to have a name. Not unsual for the Organization. When Demyx started out, it was bad to be anywhere near him. Saïx used to start fights with no warning- running out of a portal or springing on him from out of fucking nowhere.

He was trying to train the guy to react offensively to a threat instead of running away. Never worked- but Demyx ended up one hell of a sprinter.

Saïx and not Vexen had the most advantage over Demyx. Vexen couldn't be dragged out of his labs for any damn thing and everyone who would know said he was a shitty teacher. But it's harder to fight someone who can turn your power against you than someone who can neutralize it. The moon does funny things to water.

Back then, I could hold my own against Roxas just fine, thanks. He'd always been a little speed demon, but I'm not exactly slow on the attack and he's a close-range fighter. Even better- I'd hardly fought during that Fall just a couple minutes ago and Roxas was already tired. He was also distracted and fighting like a human, letting unimportant shit get in the way.

Kid looked livid. His whole face was tense and he never lost the scowl. His cheeks were red, he was sweating. He looked like he'd gotten as much emotional memory back as I'd ever had and all because of a few minutes with the girl.

Fuck, I wished I'd introduced them sooner.

I dropped, spun on my heel and kicked Roxas' legs out from under him. One chakram into his sleeve, my hand in his collar and the other chakram under his chin. I sat on his legs to keep them pinned.

It probably looked like a stray scene from a porno.

So of course Larxene showed up.

"Training, boys?" she purred. I could imagine her smirk, I didn't need to look at it. Roxas' expression was more interesting- pissed and believable, and totally new to his face.

"Just some youthful high-spirits, Larx," I called out, not moving.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" and she did that little-girl giggle.

"We've got a report to make to the Superior- just getting in a little exercise beforehand."

If Roxas wanted to try and continue, that was fine. If he wanted to be responsible, that was fine too. I had to know which.

"Pity," Larxene murmured and moved on, "you looked like you were having fun."

I waited until she was gone. "You just did it again."

"I'm going back," Roxas said. "I'm going to see her."

There was no way I got out of that one without help. Think about it- two week old kid, spoiled brat of the Organization who didn't take advantage only because he was too new to realize he'd never really been punished for insubordination and had never had motivation to disobey orders because he'd never wanted anything. How the fuck was I supposed to explain why this was a bad idea?

'Don't do it because you'll get punished.'

Yeah. Right.

'If anyone else realizes you're seeing her, they'll make you stop.'

He might ask why.

'Because she's the Nobody of your girlfriend and the Organization thinks you'll get your memories back, remember being a Champion of Light (caps and all) and turn on them.'

Hell no.

"Not right now you aren't," I said. He glared. "Or I'll just let you explain to Xemnas why the report is late."

Roxas flinched a little, and there was doubt with the anger.

Naminé just might have saved my ass. Maybe Roxas didn't know why he should tiptoe around Xemnas. Despite the speech everyone gets from one or another of the Organization about not fucking with the Superior- most of us need to see him in action at least once. Roxas hadn't. Roxas didn't know why he should just smile and nod and do as Xemnas told him. But.

Naminé had given him enough memory that if his head was filled with smog, at least now he had a flashlight and could see the tree before he walked into it. Roxas knew enough to stop and think whether it was really worth it before he told the Superior that nobody was the boss of him.

Except Nobody was the boss of him. Hah.

... Moving on.

Sora had fought that Heartless we were supposed to steer clear of and knew damn well you did not lightly fuck with him. The only problem was that Sora had fucked with him- and continued to fuck with him.

Now I'm not saying I believe in fate- but some things you just have to see coming. Like that eighteen-wheeler sliding into your lane on the highway. You see it from far off, you fucking get out of the way. Unless you think maybe you can use it for something else and force another car to collide with it. But you still might get your ass run over.

Keep that in mind, it'll make more sense later.

Point is, I didn't think about that at the time. I just kept talking. Later I knew I was damn lucky he didn't keep the argument going.

"Calm down," I said, because it seemed appropriate, "come with me, make the report, and not only will I do all the talking, I'll make sure you see Naminé again."

Sometimes people actually fall for that 'I'm doing this as a favor to you and not benefiting from it at all," thing. Not me, but- yanno. His face changed- acceptance. Grudging acceptance. I figured a grin would set him off again or I'd have done it.

Roxas was suddenly a lot more interesting.

"So how'd the play date go?"

Xigbar again, and I didn't bother to look up when I heard his voice. He dropped to his feet beside me, and then we were both walking down the hallway.

"Marluxia was there," I shrugged.

He blinked. Don't give me shit about not being able to blink with only one eye- winking is totally different.

"Not on my orders."

"Yeah," I smirked. "That's what I figured. What do you know about Keyblades?"

He pulled a frown and slowed, stopped walking. I matched his pace and watched him not flinch like I knew, knew he should have. He gave me a look I'd learned a long time ago meant he knew something he didn't plan on telling me.

Or he was being an ass.

"Why?"

I shrugged, waved a hand. "While we were there, Roxas and Naminé got all moon-faced at each other. Marluxia didn't wanna share his toy, so he got grabby. Roxas pulled the Keyblade on him and the shape was different. I don't think he did it on purpose- but he changed it."

Xigbar thought about that, or pretended to think about it and already knew what it meant. "Fits his mindset, like our weapons do," he shrugged. "Sora has a mess of different Keyblades."

Ignoring the bit about none of the rest of us being able to change our weapons at will. If we wanted anything we had to keep it stable, just like we had to keep everything else stable. Roxas had two Keyblades and he'd tried to go postal on my ass with the second one- which hit harder than the first.

"I'll look into it," Xigbar said, which meant the Elders would talk it over and maybe feel like sharing what they'd figured out.

He saluted me before a calling a portal to snatch him out of the hall.

Roxas stalked me for a while.

We had a mission, and then we had a mission- and oh look, another mission. I hadn't bitched out the Elders because I wanted to see how long the kid could wait before he tried to find her on his own or approached me and asked what the fuck was taking so long. Roxas worked on his glare.

I felt him turning it up after each mission and just when he opened his mouth-

"Hey, Vexen- you got a minute?"

It took less than a minute and I was off to Castle Oblivion. I leaned out of the portal, checked for unexpected numbers and walked out, Roxas behind me. Naminé stopped drawing when she saw me- looked at Roxas and flinched.

Now, it wasn't like someone had flipped a switch: Instant Somebody Just Add Water. But they seemed to pick up from last time.

"Naminé, Roxas," I said, flapping a hand back and forth, "Roxas, Naminé."

Naminé glanced at me. Roxas didn't- walked up to her and stood close. They didn't seem to need the intro. It wasn't like two kids who'd never met- more they hadn't seen each other in a while and were catching up.

By not saying a damn thing.

Normal for Roxas in those days- rarely had anything to say, and if he did, he'd take his damn time. Since we weren't pressed for time, I took a seat on the bed, leaned my back against the wall and got comfortable.

"Naminé," he said it sooner than I thought he would, "what is this?"

He pulled the new Keyblade and held it out, handed it to her. She put her hands under it- one to hold the blade, one for the grip. I smirked.

"It's your weapon," I drawled. "What're you asking her for?"

"I realized I found it the first time I saw her."

Naminé held it like it was glass and put it on her lap, over the sketchbook. No worry about the paper or the crayons and she looked at it, trailed her fingers down the keychain until she got to the charm at the end.

"Found it?" I asked.

"Oathkeeper," Naminé answered.

We both looked at her. The Keyblade sat in her lap and that was impressive enough. You can't disarm the Keyblade Master. I'd seen people knock it out of Roxas' hands and get brained with it five seconds later. It won't leave. It's not the same as my wheels, or Xigbar's guns. It's charged by the one who wields it, but you can't just pull one out of thin air, no matter how powerful you are. It has to choose to come to you- and then good fucking luck if you want to get rid of it. It picks an owner (or two, in Roxas' case) and sticks with them until it doesn't like them anymore. Someone tries to take it, it jumps back into the bearer's hand. They try to give it to someone else permanently, it won't work unless the Keyblade's okay with it.

There was no way that thing was going anywhere. Hell, Sora had been a Heartless, came back, and still had the Keyblade. It had been waiting for him to get back- liked him enough to serve Roxas at the same time. No one was gonna take it off either of them.

That wasn't what was going on here- Roxas wasn't giving it up, and Naminé wasn't trying to take it. He was just letting her hold it for a while. Naminé cupped the keychain in her hands and rubbed her thumbs over it.

"That's right," Roxas muttered.

"What?" I asked.

"Oathkeeper," Roxas repeated. "That's what it's called."

I smirked. "Before or after Naminé picked out the name?"

"She didn't pick it," Roxas said. "I did."

"She didn't pick it," I repeated, skeptical, "she just knew what it was before you did?"

"I couldn't remember it, okay?"

I smirked, waved him down off his high, irritated horse.

"I have it because of her anyway," Roxas muttered. He turned back to Naminé. She picked the Keyblade up, one hand curled through the hilt, supporting the blade the other, giving it back to him like it was some ceremony. The star with its seashells clinked, swung back and forth as she passed the Keyblade to him. I had a thought.

The blade fit his mindset, huh?

The seats 'Where Nothing Gathers' are uncomfortable as hell.

You sit far enough from the ground that there is no way your feet touch the floor. So they start to go numb, or you feel like kicking them to get the circulation (that I'm not sure we have) going. Not that that's dignified but what are your options here, really? You don't want to be so close to the ground most of the time- I'm pretty sure the thrones sit where Xemnas wants them- and if he wants you a hell of a lot lower than he's sitting... well the symbolism is obvious, right?

You're beneath him.

Everyone is- but you are especially beneath him. You're waaaaaaaaay down there. You're supposed to sit near the floor, mister, and Think about What You've Done Wrong.

But they're above the floor, there's no groove for your ass, the seat is too long for you to sit all the way back and still have your legs hanging over the edge. Not only is it too long, it's too wide. You can't lean your arms on the arm rests- the most you can do is put your hands on them and you're just kind of perching.

You're sitting there, being conscious of what you look like while you're sitting there, giving the group a show and sometimes having attention called to you- sometimes drawing attention. Depends on just how much you want to be noticed. Anyone can talk during meetings. If you don't have anything relevant to say, someone'll be there to ridicule you about it. I've done it. Gotta keep the new kids in line. Gotta point out the errors in logic, mostly to Demyx. Before the sting set-up, I kept my comments to Numbers I outranked.

Now I had to make a spectacle of myself- had to piss off the Elders- and Xigbar was holding back now to give me opportunities. Oh Vexen and I meshed better than we ever have before.

Even if you aren't there for that- you gotta pay attention. Even when it's about someone else's assignment, you never know when the conversation is going to turn over and be relevant to you, and maybe someone's gonna ask your opinion.

Not that it's embarrassing to have those little jabs if you're acting like a kid and weren't following the conversation. But sometimes it'll lead to a twenty-minute lecture about what a member of Organization XIII is responsible for, and what it means, and really don't you want your heart back? and the older members have heard that damn speech so many times already.

We eventually get revenge on the one who makes Xemnas think it might be a good idea to give a refresher.

"-some of the Organization to take up residence within Castle Oblivion."

You could see everyone sit up a little straighter- anyone who hadn't been looking at Xemnas before was now.

Then they were looking at each other, because gee, Marluxia seems so interested in this topic, now doesn't he? I didn't look at Xigbar. You try not to. I used to play this poker game where everyone stuck a card, face out, to their forehead and tried to figure out which was highest. Which card you look at and which one you look at next and who lays down what card- yeah. Wherever you're looking, everyone else can see you too. You never know who's watching you watching whoever.

"There is ample space within its walls- a more secret, more silent area of the Realm of Darkness in which study may be devoted to the heart. Any of our number who believe their talents lay more within the field of research than missions among the Worlds may request this assignment."

Good cover- good bluff. I wondered how long it would take Marluxia to ask for his permission slip. No one did then- you weren't supposed to. You were supposed to think about it, then approach Xemnas on your own to ask for relocation. It was phrased as an opportunity to get out of field work- the unstated bonus was to get out from under the Superior's thumb, which is exactly what Marluxia wanted.

I'd have to get in on it- I knew that.

But the last thing I could do was seem willing.

The move was scheduled for some time in the next few days- weeks- whenever it worked for Xemnas. Whenever he decided the chosen group should pack up and move out. Roxas got up my ass about visiting Naminé.

Showed he was thinking. It showed he understood, soon there'd other Nobodies who were always around. If they got any time to hang out, they'd have to spend it watching for unexpected arrivals.

Which he seemed to understand (I don't know how) was a bad thing. Maybe Marluxia's reaction to him being there and meeting Naminé that first time. Maybe that I asked him- both of them- to keep our meeting just between the three of us. Or maybe the typical Nobody selfishness was working in my favor. Roxas wanted to keep his 'Naminé time'. Didn't want to share it with anyone- didn't want it taken away. Wanted it- the connection- as often as he could get it.

We got into that rut. If Roxas wasn't already assigned to something, I sent a Dusk for him, we visited Naminé. If he was on assignment, I sent one to wait for him back at the castle. I was supposed to be pissing people off, but I really would if the kid started to blow off missions. My being in Oblivion was his safe passage. He could come and go and not worry that someone was gonna catch him there. Naminé started to look for Roxas whenever I showed up.

I might have been jealous- it was obvious they were more interesting to each other than I was to either of them, but they couldn't get away with this without me, and they understood that.

It's kind of a trip that they understood that. I remember my kid siblings being oblivious as fuck to the consequences of their actions- if you're the only one who's been out of mom's sight from the time she put the brownies on the counter to the time she found a huge chunk scooped out of one corner, you are, by logical deduction, guilty. Little bastard kept saying I did it, but mom was more observant than that.

Memory- logic, problem solving and I blame their connection. The sudden onset of personality.

"There's no color here," and Roxas disapproved, "it's dull. Not even the flowers-" not that he'd ever noticed flowers before. No time when you're tearing down worlds, and none to be found outside Marluxia's chambers in Never Was. I was pretty damn sure Roxas had never been in there.

He was right- perfectly white daisy-looking things in perfectly white vases on top of perfectly white pedestals. There was no originality in the castle's decoration. Roxas stretched out a hand to poke them.

"Not much different than The Castle That Never Was," he muttered.

The daisies leaned away from his hand.

I raised an eyebrow. Roxas followed them, chasing the flowers around the vase with his finger until they retreated, pulling below the rim and out of sight.

I looked at Naminé. "Marluxia?"

She nodded. "He told the castle to make them."

I sat up, displaced her pillow behind my back. "He told the castle?"

Naminé nodded, lifted her sketchbook again and picked up the only pencil she kept lying around.

"He said I should draw something pretty- and he thought flowers were very pretty. Then he asked if I'd ever seen one."

Roxas was looking at us, his back to the vase.

You don't give your back Marluxia or his creations.

Naminé reached for a crayon and rubbed it over her sketch, then turned a page and started again with the pencil.

"He put his hand on the wall and they grew." Crayon, page flip, pencil. Crayon again. Then she flipped backwards and held up the book. A small black figure, arm out, and a pencil-sketch of the pedestal rising from the floor.

"He said they were pretty and I needed more protection," she murmured.

I saw it just before Roxas pulled the Keyblade, had a chakram thrown and pinning the stalk to the wall. It was just as marble-like as the daisy, white with subtle veins running up the stalk, the leaves, across the pod as big as Roxas' head.

Roxas lifted his Keyblade to the flytrap.

"No," I drawled, "don't kill it. He'll know it was you."

Roxas turned to me, raised an eyebrow.

"The Keyblade has a distinctive burn when it hits," I smirked. "He's sparred with you- you've beaten his ass."

Marluxia kept tabs on his plant life. I'd had more than one foray into his Garden of Perpetual Night and been paid back for damages to his flytraps. If the things hadn't tried to eat me, they never would have burned.

"So what?"

"So," I said, crooking a finger at him, "you're not exactly supposed to be hanging around Oblivion."

Roxas moved forward and the flytrap thrashed, straining against the chakram, leaves flapping, trying its damnest to reach for the kid. Naminé kept drawing.

"If you're here without orders, the Elders will figure you aren't busy. If you don't look busy-"

"They'll find something for me to do, yeah, I know."

Roxas finally stepped out of the danger zone and I made the chakram disappear. The flytrap arched out of the vase, pod gaping slightly, drawing up and back like a snake hissing. It disappeared back into the vase.

Naminé finished another drawing and flipped a few pages before she held it up. "The room is different than is used to be," she murmured. It was a floor plan. A box around the edge of the paper, a short line that slanted inward to symbolize the door and a small square near the opposite wall. She turned to the next page. The perimeter box, the same little square, then a larger rectangle. The smallest box was for her chair, and the rectangle for her bed. One more page. Box chair, rectangle bed, and little boxes with circles on the inside- one for each corner. I put out a hand for the book and she gave it to me.

"So he puts his hand on the wall and the castle makes things for him."

Naminé nodded. Roxas was staring at the vase as the perfectly innocent daisy bouquet bloomed again.

The castle talked to him and he talked back. Xemnas had done the same to Never Was. I'd seen him create rooms for the members who came after me- create archways in the Proof of Existence, open them up and walk through with everyone following to show off the new accommodations.

"He made me this chair," Naminé said, "and the bed, and he made the room bigger."

I wondered if this was something only the two of them could do. I'd leaned up against lots of walls and not heard a damn thing. I'd heard Vexen bitch at meetings about needing more space, and as much as Vexen liked to bitch in general, if he could take action, he did it. He would have opened up the room if he had that power, and asked for forgiveness later.

I remembered that every damn time I'd known Xemnas was out of the castle- and it didn't happen often- Marluxia was also out. Mission, errand, whatever. Marluxia didn't get to stay home if big daddy wasn't there.

Were they making sure Marluxia didn't get alone time with Never Was? I wondered how long you needed to gain control of a castle.

"Axel," little hands grabbed the sketchbook away from me and Naminé brushed off the ash. I'd left fingerprints. Whoops. That would have been painful- the drawings were part of Naminé's arsenal. Such as it was.

Every weapon was a manifestation of power. Xemnas could use his castle as a weapon. If Marluxia had started to bond with Oblivion... if he took control of it and made it grow, it might just grow big enough to be a threat.

Marluxia had balls.

I smirked.

"What are you thinking about?" Roxas asked.

I smirked at them. "Jockey shorts."

He hit me.

So I told the Elders. Told Xigbar, anyway. I could count on one hand the times I've had to deal with Xemnas directly. You try to avoid that type of thing if at all possible.

He said it was one more thing on the growing list that suggested yeah- Marluxia was gearing up for a confrontation with the big man, but it wasn't proof. We needed solid proof before he could be smacked down for it. As for Roxas, he seemed a little distracted during missions lately. During the sitting and waiting part- not the hacking and slicing- so it wasn't a big deal. He was a little more animated, which helped his ability to blend in. He still mowed down Heartless like nobody's business.

Heh.

So I should go about my business and keep paying attention.

I did, or a Dusk did.

Business as usual. We had missions, we snuck out to visit Naminé when the schedules were right, and I interrupted Marluxia's visits with her.

It seemed less now that he was getting touchy feely and more like he wanted story time. He would ask Naminé about herself- about what she remembered- about those pretty drawings she'd started to do every waking moment of beaches and green mountains and three little kids who were always together.

Worlds she'd never seen before- worlds that he could identify, having visited some of 'em, but she shouldn't have known. He would ask her if one of the others had described it and she said no- no, she could imagine them- like she had been there.

Wasn't too long after that, I was getting tapped for Oblivion. I hadn't shown any interest, but Marluxia was fishing- still fishing.

"I'm better at field work," I said when he asked. Grinned, "Why? You think Oblivion would be worth my while?"

He smiled back, "I think there will be an abundance of hands-on research in which you could participate."

His emotion-mock was never as over-the-top as Demyx, but it's partly because he never tried to make himself seem ridiculous. Harmless. I made a noise, shrugged, and he smirked like he'd actually gotten something.

"Do think about it."

I walked off, waved at him over my shoulder.

We'll fool ya.

We'll fool ya sweet and easy, we'll fool ya painful and hard.

When we do it well enough, sometimes we fool ourselves.

I was fooled. I knew damn well that it was happening and I let it. I've done it over and over- more in those few weeks after introducing the kids than I ever had.

Marluxia's little sentries were tuned to Naminé, so he'd know if she left. We couldn't get out of the room, but I'm creative. I'll do a hell of a lot to alleviate my own boredom.

You might think you can just toss a few Nobodies into a room and that's enough to keep 'em going- to keep them paying attention and keep them acknowledging each other. It's something- because you do notice people in a room with you. Nobodies don't do the 'comfortable silence' thing. Not this one, anyway. I said before, Naminé could draw- but I always had to talk. Someone had to talk. Someone had to draw my attention. Either I had to have acknowledgement of myself because someone else was paying attention to me, or I had to be talking, or thinking, or acting. I- we- have to make an impact. Someone has to be interested in you- and if there's no one else there, that someone has to be you.

But we're not Somebodies, and it falls flat.

That's why Nobodies don't do well alone.

We don't have to do much, but we have to do something. All else fails- you have to keep yourself occupied.

Naminé had her drawings. Now she had us. I let Roxas take over the talking and the making her talk. Now he was the one to ask her questions, to bug her for her opinion, to talk about things that happened on other worlds. I talked if I had something to contribute- if they asked me a question- but mostly I sat on Naminé's bed, leaned back against the wall, and relaxed. Cushiest damn punishment/mission I've had, before or after.

It's also probably the most pathetic. The easy ones usually are.

Imagine every trip you've ever taken with your parents. There's reading, and there are card games, and there's conversation. There's food (sometimes ice cream) and being lazy, and that's pretty much it.

When I think about it carefully, that's exactly what it was- a vacation. Get home from work, bitch out the parents, get sent to Naminé's room with the little white witch and the little black thirteen as distractions. I was still working, but it didn't feel like work.

I'd gotten the chair that day, Naminé sat with her legs folded on the bed, hands curled over her bare feet. Roxas stood, paced a little not like he was nervous, like he wanted to be moving all the time. Sometimes Naminé thought we were more interesting than her drawings. Sometimes like that day, and she asked him to sit down beside her, started playing with the silver tassels on his hood.

"Why do you wear them?"

"The Superior says we can't show our faces on other worlds," Roxas answered. "We don't want anyone to identify us."

"It's more complicated than that, kids," I said. "You haven't done recon," I smirked at Roxas, "but if you did- you wouldn't want the man you gotta make nice with to know you're the one who axed his buddy last week. Not to mention most worlds have some kind of law, and law-enforcement, and they don't like us Nobodies snooping around, doing what we do best."

"You don't need the coats here, do you?" Naminé murmured.

"I guess not." Roxas tugged at his coat sleeves, like he didn't know why he was still wearing it.

"It's a mark of the Organization," I said, giving them a one-handed shrug. "Like a membership card. Shows you're in the club."

Naminé let the tassel fall to Roxas' chest. "So I won't get one."

I cocked my head to the side. "You're a non-combatant, kid."

Roxas was nodding, "It wouldn't be a good idea." Then he got up, started to undo his coat. "But you can try it on. Unless there's some kind of problem with that."

I raised an eyebrow at him, smirked, and didn't answer. Kid wanted to be all gallant, he could be all gallant and the mental image alone was funny as hell.

Naminé stared for a moment, then she smiled, and it looked like too much after all the pleasant blankness I'd seen in her face. Looked like she was going to break herself, but she stood up, and Roxas pulled off the coat, helped her into it. As young as they were, both of them undeveloped, their bodies matched enough that the coat fit, only hanging a little, just brushing the floor because of height difference and Naminé's lack of footwear. She zipped it up, and Roxas zipped it down, hiding her lack of pants and making the illusion a little more convincing. Her fingers didn't fit his gloves, but it was better than she'd looked in mine- Roxas drew her hood up and pulled the tassels a little.

They both looked at me.

"Do I look like I could kick some ass?"

I'm almost sure it was the first time Naminé swore.

I know it was the easiest time I've ever had laughing.

I was entertained. Even sitting there with a random bag of carry-away food (carried away by a Dusk I sent to get it) listening to them poking around old memories.

'Do you remember the time-

-it was a coconut.

Then he-

-and you were sick for three days.'

They were changing- little bit by little bit. They didn't remember anything important, nothing about Sora's world-hopping or Maleficent's gang, just little things. Things that meant something to their Others and showed they had history. They had stories- they shared them. I wasn't jealous. I should've been. If there's any damn thing a Nobody can feel, it's want. Need of some semblance of emotion that's close enough to being real that you fool yourself. If we aren't pretending to feel, we're pretending to be jealous of the ones who're doing it better. I didn't.

The kids sat there, grinning and smiling and talking quietly, comfortable, pretending to be happy or actually being happy and I didn't feel 'nothing'. For once. It was some kind of lack of the lack- I sat in the little white room with the two of them, doing unimportant shit and the kicker- the fucking knee to the balls of it is that I never noticed.

But I know damn well that the best way to realize you had something is to lose it.

Maybe I did realize- in a dim fucking way- that I had something there. Some kind of being pleased with myself. They were changing- and it was because I'd brought Roxas there. Me. They were different because of me. We found out what Naminé was capable of because of me. I don't give a shit that Marluxia took the credit, and as far as some of the Organization is concerned, he still does. I don't care because where is he now?

Sometimes the memory digging wasn't exactly easy for Roxas. Seemed like the more important the memory, the harder it was for him to drag up. One day he paced and it seemed like he was actually pissed off about it.

"I don't remember."

I slouched in the chair and Naminé sat on the bed, kicking her feet.

"I just know it was yellow and it was shaped like a star. It was special, but I don't know why."

"Roxas, come here and sit down," Naminé invited. He didn't stop the pacing, just redirected it on the next turn and did as asked. She'd wrapped him around her finger- or she'd held it out and he'd wrapped himself around it. I'm still not sure which. He plopped down beside her, one hand on his temple, grimacing and still griping. Second only to Xemnas in power, a member of Organization XIII, and he did whatever Naminé wanted. It's almost a shame no one else got to see them- I can imagine the reactions.

Naminé had her sketchpad open on her lap and a yellow crayon in one hand. She slipped the fingers of her other hand between Roxas' thumb and forefinger, curled the tips into his palm. He stopped talking, looking where their hands met. His eyebrows drew down, pulled together and he opened his mouth-

then his eyes rolled up into his head.

Naminé held his hand as he keeled backward, landed on the bed. His head hit the wall. I winced. Naminé took her hand back and started to draw.

I sat there, put my chin in my hand.

Roxas lay there, out cold.

Naminé grabbed the green crayon from her bed. Eventually she raised the book and turned it towards me.

Star-shaped golden fruit. A few leaves at one of the five points. I guessed that was how it hung.

"Tree or bush?" I asked.

"It could be a vine," Naminé said. "Fruit grows on vines."

"Point."

"A tree," she said. "When Roxas wakes up, he'll remember."

"So you didn't lobotomize him?"

"What's that?"

"Lobotomy is when you cut up someone's brain."

Naminé stared at me, blinked. "I wouldn't do that."

I stared back.

"Memories are kept in a heart, Axel. Not a brain."

Would you like me to ride right over how creepy that statement really was? Yeah?

Too bad.

Naminé was more Nobody than any of us at the beginning. Mercenary, unconcerned with anything but herself and her own wants. She couldn't have felt it, but she didn't even try to act disgusted with the idea of cutting someone up. Right about then I started to rethink the whole emotion thing. Maybe I'd overestimated them.

She'd disagreed with me because I'd been incorrect about the part of Roxas she would have been cutting. If she was going to feel guilty about messing with anyone, she should have felt that way about him. She would have made one hell of a Number XIV if her power had been just a little more useful.

Not that I cared any more than she seemed to. Maybe it wasn't emotion. Maybe it was just memory and learned reactions coming back to them because their Others had done it in the past. Maybe they weren't more than the rest of us- they were just, finally, catching up. She knew him, she reacted to him, but she didn't really give a shit about hurting him. I didn't correct her for it. Any injury might have to be covered up, and it would suck if she'd done permanent damage- but I was more interested in what she'd done- and what she'd said.

"So you cut into his heart and took out the memory?"

Naminé looked at Roxas, slack-mouthed, innocent-looking, and resting at an awkward angle for his neck. That would be stiff later.

"I didn't cut it," she said, still looking at him. She'd grabbed the red crayon and her hand drifted to his chest, touched down on his chest. She lifted it and didn't touch him, but mimed jabbing, then tapping, a slow circular cut, a slash, different motions. It looked like she was trying to pick the most appropriate and couldn't decide which one. As fascinating- and creepy- as it was, I moved things along.

"Did you forget he doesn't actually have a heart?"

"Yes he does," she murmured. Her hand came to a stop, crayon flat under her fingers and she put her hand on his chest. She turned to look at me. "It's just not here."

Well sure, I knew that, but no one had told her.

"So you reached-"

"Through Roxas, into his heart," Naminé smiled.

"And you got the memory he couldn't find," I said.

She nodded, still smiling like that psycho-kid from about half the horror movies that used to exist on my world.

I put my forearms on my knees and leaned forward, grinning like that serial killer from the other half.

"What else can you do?"

We put Roxas into a more comfortable sleeping position. Naminé lay on her stomach next to him, shifting his hand so it covered her arm- like contact made things easier. She doodled in her sketchbook. She was discovering her power and using it against a Nobody who should have had every advantage over her.

A Nobody stretched out and unconscious in her little white prison.

She reached in to see what she could do, and what she could do was pull Roxas'- but really Sora's- memories out of his heart. Out of Sora's heart, through Roxas' emptiness. She got to see them- Roxas got them like his past was finally coming to him. She tried- because it's near fucking impossible not to try if you have the idea and think you can pull it off- to go in reverse and put them back- bury them in Sora's heart so deep that no one could get to them.

She explained what she was trying to do while she did it- I warned her not to go too hard and fast. She looked up and didn't have to ask 'why not'- it was all over her quizzical little sociopath-like expression.

"Because you're fighting him, kid," I said, waving a hand at Roxas. "You're launching an assault on his heart, and if he ever found out, he'd be pissed."

"But we can't feel."

Of course she had an answer ready- they, both of them, always made my life so easy that way.

"It's still his heart, kid," I slouched a little more in the chair, still smiling. "Besides- since you don't know what you're doing, if you don't go slow and careful, you might mess something up. If you mess something up in his heart, it just might lose us the Keyblade." I gave her a little more smile and a little less of what made it pleasant. She'd seen enough of that from Larxene to know that it wasn't good.

"You wouldn't want to do that, would you, Naminé?"

She stared at me but she wasn't afraid- didn't even look it. She was just... thinking. Considering the words, taking in the new info so she could use it later.

She started drawing. From my seat, I watched her sketch a small figure with short arms, legs, and little brown spikes for hair. Toys were arranged around it in a semi-circle and at the end of one sketchy arm it was holding a blue stick with a ball on the end.

Heh. Baby Sora.

No one remembers that shit anyway.

But she messed around, and in messing, she learned she could pull the memories up out of the darkness in his heart. She could put them back. Later, Roxas remembered how his (Sora's) mom fed him mashed carrots.

"No... wait..."

I watched Naminé drawing in her chair with colored pencils. Erasing something before picking up the green.

"No," Roxas' face screwed up and he thought about it. "It was... peas. At least I think it was peas."

She erased again- he paid no attention at all while she messed with her drawing. No idea there was any connection.

"Carrots," Roxas said, nodding once.

"Carrots," I repeated.

"Yeah- carrots."

I asked her to explain it once. Not then. I didn't know exactly what she was doing then. Then I only knew she was messing with his head. She was pulling Sora's past through Roxas and giving the kid some of what he was missing.

It was going to take her a long time to figure out the best metaphor for what she did, but when she finally got it, she told me memories were like a chain in water.

The ones you remember are laying in plain sight on the beach. The ones you forget are in the water. Now the tide can come in- or it can go out, and the chain is all coiled and doubles back on itself and lays over and twists and it's not one straight shot. Some really old memories might be laying right there on the sand, easy to find, easy to see. Just like some new memories get sucked into the water almost as soon as they happen.

It can coil up and look like a ball and grow to different sizes, but it's never more than one chain. The start of it is birth, or womb-floating, or something. The end of it is whatever's most recent and you make new links all the time.

When a Heart gets stolen by Heartless and makes a Nobody- the beach is gone. Gone- disappeared, bye-bye. The Nobody is a totally new beach, clinging to that chain for their chance at existence. The more links you keep, the more human you look.

Naminé was kind of... rolling Sora's chain over so Roxas could take a look at it. Pulling it to Roxas' beach, letting him glance over the links, so he could have what Sora had. What Roxas should have had- except Sora's beach never disappeared.

Naminé owned that chain. She could pull it out of the water, push it back down, paint over the links, add new ones, remove them later. She could set up a whole tangent of links and bury the real chain so deep that it couldn't be found. She could take the links apart and put them back in whatever order she wanted- connect the real ones with links she made up. What she couldn't do- and none of us realized this until later- was destroy them.

No matter what you do to a heart, the real memories stick around. They might get lost, they might get buried, but they're there somewhere.

I told her to be careful, and she took my advice. She only made little changes, and then she fixed them. She only disconnected a few things long enough to see if Roxas could confirm the difference. Then she put them back. She did everything she could think of and in a small enough scale that it wouldn't fuck with Roxas' functionality.

She didn't tell me much. I saw the alterations with my own eyes and I knew she could fix them. I thought she had to use the sketchbook to do it.

I'd find out later how much she kept to herself- and why it was a damn good thing she had.

"This will be leaked to Marluxia," Zexion decided. I told Xigbar that Naminé had her little white fingers in Roxas' heart and he called in the Schemer. Zexion didn't say anything else. No orders- no suggestions. I figured he was going to do it himself and put it out of my mind. "I imagine he will have several thoughts on what can be done with the information."

"He wants to go to Oblivion, doesn't he?" I asked.

Xigbar smirked. "Duh."

I shrugged. "Maybe we could arrange for Sora to visit. Show him around," I smirked, "introduce him to the group."

I wasn't really joking, but I hadn't thought they'd take it seriously. They gave me that Look. 'Gee, what a great Idea, Axel, we're so glad we thought of it.'

"Yes." Zexion murmured. "If Marluxia does not have the idea first-"

"And he probably will," Xigbar dropped into the pause.

"it will be suggested to him."

"I shouldn't volunteer," I said. They stared at me again, glanced at each other- and it's funny. For all Xigbar's 'easy going' personality and how little he acts like a scientist, he's one of the original six for a reason. He's second in command- I've said this before, remember- for a reason. Bunch of reasons. You don't have to spell things out for these guys. You just have to point at some weird thing 'Hey, look at that' and then they're all over it. They know what it is, or they're gonna find out.

"Maybe you've been hanging around Roxas too much, Ax," Xigbar said, looking at Zexion. "Maybe you're a bad influence. He's been giving us more lip lately... acting the age he looks."

"You should never have taken him to visit Naminé," Zexion murmured. "For all we know, he may begin sneaking off to visit her in every spare moment."

He already was- using his Samurai as lookouts and assuming my Assassins were there to make it easier.

"Ugh," Xigbar winced, mock-frowning, "damn that's bad. One of these days they'll sneak out of the Castle."

"The Superior would be most displeased by such reckless action. His punishment for the responsible party would be severe." Zexion answered, deadpan. "Physical chastisement, and possibly expulsion from Never Was for several months."

What fun. But I had orders, and I always followed orders.

"Oh I'd just hate to be that guy," I smiled, gave a little salute and left the room.

The kids had been sneaking around. Muttering about the places Naminé had pulled from Sora's heart and how dull Oblivion was. I hadn't encouraged it. Pissing Marluxia off by taking Naminé away from his little sentries was not part of my plan. Seemed to be part of Roxas' though- he hadn't said anything about his solo visits, and neither had Naminé. Maybe they figured I knew. The policy in the Organization is 'don't ask, don't tell'. Maybe they thought they had my permission. But even though Naminé was telling Marluxia what she'd found in Roxas' memories, she'd never said he was coming to see her without me present.

I'd seen this before.

You don't really get to keep things, see. Fuck, it's why we have anagram names and half the damn time, you're gonna get called by your number, just in case you forgot that you didn't have a heart. Just in case you forgot you're part of a group, and that group means a hell of a lot more than whatever individual you used to be or think you are now.

Fucking contradictions. You have to be individual enough to be a number, but not enough to keep personal possessions like oh, clothes, knick knacks, a name. Items that remind you of the world outside Never Was, which the Elders would have you believe never was, so the world you're in is the only one that Ever Was unless you happened to have a mission.

Roxas and Naminé were trying to make something for themselves. They had taken without permission and the idea that it wasn't allowed, that it was something they'd gotten for themselves instead of being given...

I shoplifted for two years before I started a paper route and mowing lawns for munny.

It's yours because you decided you wanted it. You went and you earned it... or stole it.

The only reason their rendezvous were allowed to go on is because we were using them for something. Someone would have stopped it earlier if it hadn't been part of the great Master Plan. They were given time together so they could be punished for it later.

So we could be punished for it.

I've taken a lot of punishment. For them- from them. I could say I regret it.

Nah.

Roxas went to Twilight Town on his off hours sometimes. Nothing wrong with that- long as he made like normal people and didn't cause too much of a stir. Stirring was part of missions, and the Elders had a thing for timing. You screwed them up, your ass was theirs. Not that it wasn't anyway.

He stopped there before heading to Oblivion once, because he came in with a cold bag and four bars of ice cream in it. He dropped the bag on the bed and tossed one at me.

I smirked. "How many did you pay for?"

"One."

Naminé watched us, curious, but didn't ask. If she really wanted the info, she could tap Roxas' memories, no problem.

"I told her you were asking about her- thought she was cute." He pulled another bar out and handed it to Naminé.

"You're learning," I said.

He took one for himself and flashed this cocky little grin, "I'm not learning. I've learned."

"Okay, golden boy," I said. "Keep it up."

"Sea-salt," Naminé read the package. Roxas was watching her- kept watching as she opened the wrapper and looked the bar over before taking a lick.

"It's good, isn't it?" he asked her.

She looked up, smiled for him.

They were gearing up for a jailbreak. I knew it, and they hadn't come right out and said anything, but they knew I knew it. I had to beat them to the punch- make it more obvious that I'd done a very very bad thing and the Superior had to punish me for it.

I only got the chance because business was picking up. The Darkness was making a push in its campaign and it kept the kid busy- kept him from getting an opportunity. Something big was going down. We all knew it- whether the Elders had passed around the message or not.

Mission, mission, mission, most of them with Roxas, and then one day Xemnas calls a meeting- sends everyone on missions. Everyone sent to a different world but Saïx, who's supposed to stay home and watch the moon.

I get sent to Traverse Town. Fucking Traverse Town- because it's gonna go up in smoke and someone should be there to watch. Then one of my Assassins popped its arm out of the back of my chair and slipped a card into my hood.

The meeting adjourned, I left the room and pulled out the card.

'Ignore the mission. XIII's gonna spring the Witch. Perfect time for you to take them on a day-trip.'

Below that was a description- what happened when a world made up of bits and pieces of other worlds broke apart and started drifting again. Not that I couldn't have made something up, but obviously we were pulling the wool over eyes that had seen this shit happen before. I wondered which of the Elders didn't know about this little plot.

Everyone was supposed to hang out at their respective locations until a Dusk came to call them back home for another meeting.

Of course Roxas was gonna spring Naminé. There was no one to notice her absence from Oblivion, and no one to see him put her back later. Best opportunity, and he'd been learning to spot them for weeks now so he knew. He'd given me a Look during the meeting. He knew that I knew. He was inviting me along.

He'd already changed into civvies when I walked into Naminé's room. So had I- but this was new to her. Her fingers twitched as she glanced at him, me, back- before she could go art geek on us, Roxas spoke up.

"We're gonna go out," he said.

Naminé was staring at him, turned to me wide-eyed and asked, "Out?"

I smirked. "You better not freak out on us when you see real sky."

"She won't," Roxas said confidently, offered his hand. When she took it, he raised the other and opened a portal, led her inside and left it open for me to follow.

We walked out onto the clock tower.

When I got there, Naminé was staring at her feet. Not because of the sky.

Her feet were still bare, white and small and she was lucky Twilight Town isn't big on sunshine, because that would have been a quick burn. Roxas looked down, noticed.

"Oh... okay, I'll be right back."

"Do you even know what... size?" not that he was paying attention, or even heard the last half because the portal had already eaten him off the ledge.

Naminé stared at the floor, crouched down and put her hands on it. She'd never felt rough stone before, or cement, or anything but the smooth marble Oblivion was made of.

She stayed there, hands on the ledge, staring out over the city at the perpetual sunset. Her face was so blank that it looked like awe, or shock.

"It's beautiful."

I shrugged. "It's not bad."

"I've never seen anything like it," she murmured.

"Roxas' memories," I pointed out.

It looked like she might be smiling. "I've never seen anything like it."

Point taken.

Roxas came back empty-handed. He hadn't known what size. He grimaced and grumbled and I told him to get over it- neither of them would want shoes on the beach, then I opened a portal to prove it.

Now, the beach is fine in theory. Water is also fine, in theory. Vast quantities of water that surround and completely drench me are not fine. They are the anti-fine. It's why no matter how much shit I give Demyx, or how much I know he's just a slacker who plays at being incompetent so he'll get out of difficult jobs, I only go so far. I know damn well he could give me a run for my munny, and I have to watch my back around him. Have to watch my back around all of them- except maybe Naminé and Roxas. Roxas usually gave you warning. He kicked ass too well to need the element of surprise. Naminé's power didn't seem to work on anyone but Roxas. I'd told her to try it- try and touch one of my memories. She'd sat on her little chair, one hand full of crayons, only the green one in the other, poised above her book.

It never moved. Naminé was sure I had a heart... somewhere. But she had no clue how to find it. I shrugged.

So the sand on a beach is fine- the heat is fine- and hey, chicks in tiny outfits were a draw no matter what world you were on.

Roxas pulled off his shoes, socks, and rolled up his pants before he dragged Naminé into the surf. I sat down where I was, pulled off my boots and lay back to sunbathe. My work was done. I only needed to be there- to have a hand in it. They'd do the rest. Give the kids a taste of freedom and they'd want more. I've never met a species that wasn't a glutton. Animals eat all the food they can get, humans keep spreading across the land and taking up more space, trees suck up all the good stuff in the soil around 'em.

I told a Dusk to pay attention to my surroundings and took a nap.

I woke up to an ice cream bar in my face and Naminé buckling a pair of turquoise-colored sandals on her feet. I was observant enough to notice the little yellow flowers on the straps. Similarity to paopu fruit a coincidence? I think not.

I took the bar, saluted Roxas with it and sat up to eat. Sea-salt again. Roxas sat, picking the sand from between his toes, fidgeting.

He'd been twitchy all through the meeting- continued through our little vacation. It didn't make sense at the time, but I'm the only one who noticed. I got more looks from passers-by than Roxas. Was it the tattoos? Was it was the leather pants in full sunlight on a hot day? Who knows?

After a while though, Naminé got more attention sculpting a castle out of damp sand.

Roxas got to his feet, staring and wearing some kind of look- maybe relief- and he wasn't as jittery. He stood and stared at nothing for a while.

"...It's over now."

"What's over now?"

"Something happened," there was the blank face again as he answered- but it didn't look blank anymore. His expression was calm, and so were his words. "But... it's okay."

"...Okay."

Naminé came back up the beach and sat near us. I looked at her work, which people were stopping to photograph.

"You built it too close to shore," I waved a hand at the tide, already rolling in, reaching for her little masterpiece.

She shrugged. "The ocean washes things away and then they're different. That's normal."

"Huh."

"Besides," she continued, "I wanted to see it fall."

It was then I realized she'd built a miniature Castle Oblivion.

~~~

Part Four