Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts
wearing out a lonely glow
1 reviewTomorrow he will draw him away, and bring him back to where he belongs, with the Organization.
3Moving
wearing out a lonely glow
Day one, he staggered around as if he was a broken doll, snapping at everyone who gets in his way. ("Poor little Axel", they tease, and laugh.) He'll be fine, they're sure of it, but they keep out of his way anyway. Yeah, he will be, once he figures out how to live without the only thing that's been keeping him up for what seems like a lifetime.
It's like being told to paint a picture after your hands have been cut off. Because now, everything that mattered to him is gone.
He's gone.
He's /gone/.
~
He spends his days stalking the remnants of the castle, pacing back and forth in his room, and feels like damp firewood that just can't be started no matter how many matches you spark. 'They don't understand', he mutters to himself, acting like the sulky child he once was in the time long before. It doesn't matter that he, as a Nobody, isn't supposed to feel anything.
"Hearts aren't reasonable, anyway," Naminé quotes, and she is suddenly sitting on the edge of his bed. "That's what they all told me."
He is too tired to wonder what she's doing here, or why, so he decides to ignore her. He can feel her watching him as he paces, idly twirling a chakram in his fingers.
"I wanted so badly to be myself again, do you remember?" Naminé asks. "It's hard to exist without knowing 'how' or 'why'. And even without a heart, there are phantom pains and doubts."
"But he knew what he was," he says, unable to hold his tongue. "He was one of us! He would have had everything he could ever need, if he had just stayed..."
"You gave him a reason," the witch says softly, looking at him with her wide eyes. "But you couldn't give him an answer. You couldn't tell him who he really was."
"He was my /friend/," he snaps, throwing the chakram down. "Why couldn't that be enough?"
Naminé stands up and carefully smoothes the wrinkles from her skirt before picking up his weapon, and handing it back to him.
"Roxas and I aren't like you, Axel," she says gravely. "We're attached too strongly to Sora. We can't pull away from him, even if we want to."
She is gone before he can think of a reply.
~
Sometimes he stops to think about what Naminé had said. He hasn't seen her since then, which makes him think that she probably got in trouble for that little visit. Perhaps she was telling the truth, when she said that their connection to Sora runs too strongly for them to break it. He thinks of magnets drawing closer to each other, repelling until they snap together, and doesn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Hey, Axel," Demyx greets him, wandering over to his chair. "Did I ever tell you what happened the night before you came back from the Oblivion Project?"
"No," he replies curtly.
"Ah, well," Demyx sighs, and grins. "Let's have a little chat, then, shall we?"
Demyx jumps up onto his chair and settles himself down before he can refuse.
"Well, I was just sitting around, trying to work out a melody," Demyx begins, fingers playing an invisible sitar. "And I just couldn't seem to get in the flow of things, you know? So then he appears--" gloved fingers snap "--and comes up reeeeal quiet."
"Uh-huh," he says, folding his arms.
"So I'm playing my tune, and it's going up and down and things got a little bit muddled, but then it suddenly /worked/," Demyx says, beaming. "And you know why? 'cause he started humming along - he nearly scared me heartless, the jerk - but he helped me out. It showed me where to go."
"Okay," he says in a bored drawl. "So what's your point?"
Demyx stands up in a swirl of black robes and glares. "The /point/, you moron, is that you aren't the only one who misses him. So get over yourself."
~
There is a piece of paper on his bed, a hasty scribble of a tall clocktower with a setting sun behind it. There seems to be the silhouette of a person sitting on the edge of the tower.
"Twilight Town," he murmurs, examining it.
Moments later, the paper is nothing but a few pieces of ash on the floor, and he begins to set out down a dark corridor.
~
Roxas looks happy, in this artificial town. It seems like he's always been there, a reserved, hardworking boy, who is enjoying his last week of summer vacation with his friends.
He can't/ really/ be happy, though. Not really. If he was he wouldn't toss and turn in his sleep, muttering odd snatches of words - 'keyblade', 'heartless', all the things that he supposedly doesn't remember.
'Tomorrow,' he promises himself. Tomorrow he will draw him away, and bring him back to where he belongs, with the Organization.
~
He's gone, yes, but he never truly realized that he wouldn't come back.
And he didn't think that he'd have forgotten about him, too.
-
author's notes: Axel kind of took my heart and slammed it to little pieces when Roxas finally remembered, so I wanted to write something with him. Title taken from 'Redemption', by Switchfoot-- I'm wearing out a lonely glow/I miss you more than I could know/here I am, won't you get me?
Day one, he staggered around as if he was a broken doll, snapping at everyone who gets in his way. ("Poor little Axel", they tease, and laugh.) He'll be fine, they're sure of it, but they keep out of his way anyway. Yeah, he will be, once he figures out how to live without the only thing that's been keeping him up for what seems like a lifetime.
It's like being told to paint a picture after your hands have been cut off. Because now, everything that mattered to him is gone.
He's gone.
He's /gone/.
~
He spends his days stalking the remnants of the castle, pacing back and forth in his room, and feels like damp firewood that just can't be started no matter how many matches you spark. 'They don't understand', he mutters to himself, acting like the sulky child he once was in the time long before. It doesn't matter that he, as a Nobody, isn't supposed to feel anything.
"Hearts aren't reasonable, anyway," Naminé quotes, and she is suddenly sitting on the edge of his bed. "That's what they all told me."
He is too tired to wonder what she's doing here, or why, so he decides to ignore her. He can feel her watching him as he paces, idly twirling a chakram in his fingers.
"I wanted so badly to be myself again, do you remember?" Naminé asks. "It's hard to exist without knowing 'how' or 'why'. And even without a heart, there are phantom pains and doubts."
"But he knew what he was," he says, unable to hold his tongue. "He was one of us! He would have had everything he could ever need, if he had just stayed..."
"You gave him a reason," the witch says softly, looking at him with her wide eyes. "But you couldn't give him an answer. You couldn't tell him who he really was."
"He was my /friend/," he snaps, throwing the chakram down. "Why couldn't that be enough?"
Naminé stands up and carefully smoothes the wrinkles from her skirt before picking up his weapon, and handing it back to him.
"Roxas and I aren't like you, Axel," she says gravely. "We're attached too strongly to Sora. We can't pull away from him, even if we want to."
She is gone before he can think of a reply.
~
Sometimes he stops to think about what Naminé had said. He hasn't seen her since then, which makes him think that she probably got in trouble for that little visit. Perhaps she was telling the truth, when she said that their connection to Sora runs too strongly for them to break it. He thinks of magnets drawing closer to each other, repelling until they snap together, and doesn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Hey, Axel," Demyx greets him, wandering over to his chair. "Did I ever tell you what happened the night before you came back from the Oblivion Project?"
"No," he replies curtly.
"Ah, well," Demyx sighs, and grins. "Let's have a little chat, then, shall we?"
Demyx jumps up onto his chair and settles himself down before he can refuse.
"Well, I was just sitting around, trying to work out a melody," Demyx begins, fingers playing an invisible sitar. "And I just couldn't seem to get in the flow of things, you know? So then he appears--" gloved fingers snap "--and comes up reeeeal quiet."
"Uh-huh," he says, folding his arms.
"So I'm playing my tune, and it's going up and down and things got a little bit muddled, but then it suddenly /worked/," Demyx says, beaming. "And you know why? 'cause he started humming along - he nearly scared me heartless, the jerk - but he helped me out. It showed me where to go."
"Okay," he says in a bored drawl. "So what's your point?"
Demyx stands up in a swirl of black robes and glares. "The /point/, you moron, is that you aren't the only one who misses him. So get over yourself."
~
There is a piece of paper on his bed, a hasty scribble of a tall clocktower with a setting sun behind it. There seems to be the silhouette of a person sitting on the edge of the tower.
"Twilight Town," he murmurs, examining it.
Moments later, the paper is nothing but a few pieces of ash on the floor, and he begins to set out down a dark corridor.
~
Roxas looks happy, in this artificial town. It seems like he's always been there, a reserved, hardworking boy, who is enjoying his last week of summer vacation with his friends.
He can't/ really/ be happy, though. Not really. If he was he wouldn't toss and turn in his sleep, muttering odd snatches of words - 'keyblade', 'heartless', all the things that he supposedly doesn't remember.
'Tomorrow,' he promises himself. Tomorrow he will draw him away, and bring him back to where he belongs, with the Organization.
~
He's gone, yes, but he never truly realized that he wouldn't come back.
And he didn't think that he'd have forgotten about him, too.
-
author's notes: Axel kind of took my heart and slammed it to little pieces when Roxas finally remembered, so I wanted to write something with him. Title taken from 'Redemption', by Switchfoot-- I'm wearing out a lonely glow/I miss you more than I could know/here I am, won't you get me?
Sign up to rate and review this story