Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts > Glass
Okay, even though no one reviewed, I'm going to update this, simply because I hate leaving a story without an ending. Unless I want it like that. But...oh, nevermind. No one's reading this, blah blah blah.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix...or whatever they're calling themselves these days.
Naminé is officially moved in, with enough paper and pencils to keep her occupied, and, despite Xigbar's warnings of gravity not being entirely stabilized, The Organization members required to run Castle Oblivion each filter their way into it; Zexion and Vexen head straight down to the lower levels of the Castle towards the quieter rooms to pursue their own studies. Lexaeus wanders around for a week, twiddling his fingers idly before he asks the Dusks to bring over some weights from home. Larxene slinks through the corridors like she owns the place--and she might as well, since Marluxia's in charge and the two of them have become too close for Axel's suspicions not to rise.
He's required to check in with the Number Eleven, since he's technically under the guy's supervision. Axel only figures he must have pulled one hell of a show to get jurisdiction over the older members; it's a blatantly obvious bid for power, and, in Axel's eyes, makes this whole charade at Castle Oblivion slightly more interesting, because he wants to be nearby to witness it when these authority games explode.
The only problem is, Roxas isn't there. He's back in the World That Never Was with the Superior.
And Zexion keeps giving him this look/, like he /knows why Axel keeps taking jobs to scout different worlds, and that it has nothing to do with wanting space away from Marluxia's flowerpots. It makes Axel restless, because the last thing he needs is Number Six getting involved. Zexion's smart, but Axel's betting he's more cunning than The Cloaked Schemer.
Betting and hoping.
He's not sure why it matter so much, this pursuit of figuring out Roxas. But it does.
But there are results. There's more of Roxas waking up out of that mindless coma--Axel's sure of it. The kid's making conversations about the world around him, sharing observations, hopes. He has fun while he's out on missions now; sometimes coming to Axel first and inviting Number Eight to come along.
But it's not enough. He needs to know Roxas. If this is who he really is, or if he's simply spilling out everything Axel has given him, like he's done with the other members. Everytime he thinks about it, his stomach turns like a dead fish.
=======
"Where are we?"
Axel and Roxas had surveyed the world and found it clear, but instead of taking a portal back to the Castle That Isn't, Axel had led them down a narrow pathway that opened out to a beach, sand piled on the land as far left and right as you could see.
Axel smiled. "The End of the World." He sat down in the sand, several yards from the water, and said nothing else, waiting for Roxas' reaction.
He remained standing. "So...you're telling me that there's nothing beyond this water?"
"I don't know...maybe nothing, maybe everything." Axel shrugged. "I've never cared enough to find out."
Waves roared against the land, blowing sea-tinted air towards them. They watched the surf in silence, their eyes following the blue water as it rose in wave after wave, morphing into white foam and back again as the tide pulled it out, reflecting the orange sunset.
Axel treaded the sand through his fingers, feeling the warm pebbles heat in his hand each time he touched them. He looked up at Roxas. "Sit down. I want to show you something."
Roxas fixed him with a piercing, contemplative stare before lowering himself to the ground, half-facing Axel, half-facing the sea. He continued to watch The Flurry of Dancing Flames with a wary eye, unsure of his motives.
Axel gave him a reproachful look, tinted with humor, as if he found Roxas' caution childishly amusing.
"Watch..." he said softly, placing one of his hands against the sand. The sand visibly heats up, turning a brilliant scarlet red and orange before the small licks of flame appear. Sparks crackle between his fingers. Axel scoops up the burning sand and holds it in the palms of his hands, shifting it gently as the burning white heat is contained by the tips of his fingers. Roxas watches curiously, and Axel smiles gently to himself and tries to concentrate on what he's doing, making sure the display doesn't become dull. The kid is like a lantern--if you're not constantly fueling his attention, it'll flicker and die out.
Finally, when the flames diminish, and the temperature between Axel's hands becomes safe again, he reveals his open palms to Roxas.
A small glass sculpture rests against the black gloves, shimmering against the sea and reflecting the sunlight. Roxas shifts suddenly, as if to reach for it, but decides against it and simply stares at the transparent creation, his expression unreadable save for the faint lines of curiosity and interest that grace his face.
"What was it like?" he asks, his voice soft against the harsh pounding of the sea. "Your home?"
It takes Axel a moment to react. He wasn't expecting a question like this--but with Roxas, you never know what to expect, so he smiles and recalls his memories from before he was a Nobody.
"Pyrotechnics," he said, placing the glass on the sand, where it became nearly invisible. "The streets were packed with performers who would hiccup gouts of flame. And the lamps...they had hissing salamanders kept in glass jars. Everywhere you turned was something amazing."
Roxas was silent for a moment, staring out at the sea, which looked dull and green compared to the sapphire.
"Do you miss it?"
Axel looked up. "What, the town?"
"No, your heart."
He opens his mouth, and closes it again. Roxas was sensitive about memories, but this...this was something different. Something the both of them could relate to.
"I...I don't know if I miss it. A heart just makes it harder to think. Fogs your perspective, you know? And it's harder to imagine what other people might be feeling. I think...I think a heart is merely empathy. The ability to connect your heart to another."
Part of him feels half-stupid as he talks, but it's better than keeping quiet and watching Roxas lapse back into that reclusive kid who looks ready to bite your face off if he doesn't understand what you're saying.
"I think that's why we're considered nothing. We're no longer part of other people's lives. We can't touch them in the same way. And they can't touch us."
Roxas continues to stare out at the sea. Axel begins to wonder if he was even listening when Number Thirteen replies, "So what do you remember? About having a heart?"
Axel thinks before answering. "It was easier to get hurt. And a lot harder to forget about being hurt."
He thinks the conversation might end there, but Roxas seems thirsty for information, hiding it in the only way he knows how--by allowing some of the old hostility to creep back into his features, hardening his face.
"Then if I don't remember what's like, what's to keep me from becoming a Dusk?"
"I guess you've got to memorize what you're like now...and if you don't know any better, than you're not that different from the rest of us." Axel smiles. "Think you can memorize /that/?"
That last line breaks the tension, and Roxas turns to him and smirks. The wind pushes his blonde hair back from his face, which is free of the hardened lines he usually wore.
He lays down on his back, turning his head to look at the shimmering glass on the sand next to him. Picking it up tenderly and examining it, he smiles faintly.
"I can try."
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix...or whatever they're calling themselves these days.
Naminé is officially moved in, with enough paper and pencils to keep her occupied, and, despite Xigbar's warnings of gravity not being entirely stabilized, The Organization members required to run Castle Oblivion each filter their way into it; Zexion and Vexen head straight down to the lower levels of the Castle towards the quieter rooms to pursue their own studies. Lexaeus wanders around for a week, twiddling his fingers idly before he asks the Dusks to bring over some weights from home. Larxene slinks through the corridors like she owns the place--and she might as well, since Marluxia's in charge and the two of them have become too close for Axel's suspicions not to rise.
He's required to check in with the Number Eleven, since he's technically under the guy's supervision. Axel only figures he must have pulled one hell of a show to get jurisdiction over the older members; it's a blatantly obvious bid for power, and, in Axel's eyes, makes this whole charade at Castle Oblivion slightly more interesting, because he wants to be nearby to witness it when these authority games explode.
The only problem is, Roxas isn't there. He's back in the World That Never Was with the Superior.
And Zexion keeps giving him this look/, like he /knows why Axel keeps taking jobs to scout different worlds, and that it has nothing to do with wanting space away from Marluxia's flowerpots. It makes Axel restless, because the last thing he needs is Number Six getting involved. Zexion's smart, but Axel's betting he's more cunning than The Cloaked Schemer.
Betting and hoping.
He's not sure why it matter so much, this pursuit of figuring out Roxas. But it does.
But there are results. There's more of Roxas waking up out of that mindless coma--Axel's sure of it. The kid's making conversations about the world around him, sharing observations, hopes. He has fun while he's out on missions now; sometimes coming to Axel first and inviting Number Eight to come along.
But it's not enough. He needs to know Roxas. If this is who he really is, or if he's simply spilling out everything Axel has given him, like he's done with the other members. Everytime he thinks about it, his stomach turns like a dead fish.
=======
"Where are we?"
Axel and Roxas had surveyed the world and found it clear, but instead of taking a portal back to the Castle That Isn't, Axel had led them down a narrow pathway that opened out to a beach, sand piled on the land as far left and right as you could see.
Axel smiled. "The End of the World." He sat down in the sand, several yards from the water, and said nothing else, waiting for Roxas' reaction.
He remained standing. "So...you're telling me that there's nothing beyond this water?"
"I don't know...maybe nothing, maybe everything." Axel shrugged. "I've never cared enough to find out."
Waves roared against the land, blowing sea-tinted air towards them. They watched the surf in silence, their eyes following the blue water as it rose in wave after wave, morphing into white foam and back again as the tide pulled it out, reflecting the orange sunset.
Axel treaded the sand through his fingers, feeling the warm pebbles heat in his hand each time he touched them. He looked up at Roxas. "Sit down. I want to show you something."
Roxas fixed him with a piercing, contemplative stare before lowering himself to the ground, half-facing Axel, half-facing the sea. He continued to watch The Flurry of Dancing Flames with a wary eye, unsure of his motives.
Axel gave him a reproachful look, tinted with humor, as if he found Roxas' caution childishly amusing.
"Watch..." he said softly, placing one of his hands against the sand. The sand visibly heats up, turning a brilliant scarlet red and orange before the small licks of flame appear. Sparks crackle between his fingers. Axel scoops up the burning sand and holds it in the palms of his hands, shifting it gently as the burning white heat is contained by the tips of his fingers. Roxas watches curiously, and Axel smiles gently to himself and tries to concentrate on what he's doing, making sure the display doesn't become dull. The kid is like a lantern--if you're not constantly fueling his attention, it'll flicker and die out.
Finally, when the flames diminish, and the temperature between Axel's hands becomes safe again, he reveals his open palms to Roxas.
A small glass sculpture rests against the black gloves, shimmering against the sea and reflecting the sunlight. Roxas shifts suddenly, as if to reach for it, but decides against it and simply stares at the transparent creation, his expression unreadable save for the faint lines of curiosity and interest that grace his face.
"What was it like?" he asks, his voice soft against the harsh pounding of the sea. "Your home?"
It takes Axel a moment to react. He wasn't expecting a question like this--but with Roxas, you never know what to expect, so he smiles and recalls his memories from before he was a Nobody.
"Pyrotechnics," he said, placing the glass on the sand, where it became nearly invisible. "The streets were packed with performers who would hiccup gouts of flame. And the lamps...they had hissing salamanders kept in glass jars. Everywhere you turned was something amazing."
Roxas was silent for a moment, staring out at the sea, which looked dull and green compared to the sapphire.
"Do you miss it?"
Axel looked up. "What, the town?"
"No, your heart."
He opens his mouth, and closes it again. Roxas was sensitive about memories, but this...this was something different. Something the both of them could relate to.
"I...I don't know if I miss it. A heart just makes it harder to think. Fogs your perspective, you know? And it's harder to imagine what other people might be feeling. I think...I think a heart is merely empathy. The ability to connect your heart to another."
Part of him feels half-stupid as he talks, but it's better than keeping quiet and watching Roxas lapse back into that reclusive kid who looks ready to bite your face off if he doesn't understand what you're saying.
"I think that's why we're considered nothing. We're no longer part of other people's lives. We can't touch them in the same way. And they can't touch us."
Roxas continues to stare out at the sea. Axel begins to wonder if he was even listening when Number Thirteen replies, "So what do you remember? About having a heart?"
Axel thinks before answering. "It was easier to get hurt. And a lot harder to forget about being hurt."
He thinks the conversation might end there, but Roxas seems thirsty for information, hiding it in the only way he knows how--by allowing some of the old hostility to creep back into his features, hardening his face.
"Then if I don't remember what's like, what's to keep me from becoming a Dusk?"
"I guess you've got to memorize what you're like now...and if you don't know any better, than you're not that different from the rest of us." Axel smiles. "Think you can memorize /that/?"
That last line breaks the tension, and Roxas turns to him and smirks. The wind pushes his blonde hair back from his face, which is free of the hardened lines he usually wore.
He lays down on his back, turning his head to look at the shimmering glass on the sand next to him. Picking it up tenderly and examining it, he smiles faintly.
"I can try."
Sign up to rate and review this story