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Roxas scrambled to his feet, shaking off water. "Zex - Six - I am so glad to see you -"

If looks could kill, Roxas's Proof of Existence would have been glowing red. "Thirteen.../what/ are you /doing/here?" Zexion was panting, as if he'd been running at full speed before the collision. "Aren't you supposed to be...in Ecitor, looking after Eight?"

"Ecitor? Is that what that world was called?" Roxas shook his head. "Eight's run away."

Zexion nearly dropped his lexicon again."Eight has done/ what?!/"

Roxas took a deep breath. "He's been completely out of it for a few days - just remembered who, what, and where he was today. He wanted to know almost as soon as he woke up whether or not Nine had returned. When I told him no, he started getting angry - he portaled away while I was telling him to calm down. I just guessed he came here to look for Nine. He's still not really well - I'm afraid he's going to make himself worse."

Zexion shook his head."What...an...idiot. All right. Do you see that stadium over there?" He pointed at the Superdome. "Tens of thousands of people have been sheltering in that stadium since the storm, and I believe Nine is one of them. The structure is being evacuated, and the people sent to other cities on this world, or even to other worlds. Do you see those vehicles in front? If Nine gets into one of them - presuming he cannot or will not return to us on his own, which seems likely, as he hasn't yet - we'll find all our hearts before we ever find him again. Thirteen, help me find Nine as soon as possible and then Iwill help you find Eight."

It was an easy decision for Roxas."All right...sure you don't want to wait until you catch your breath?"

Zexion nodded. "Reasonably certain." He took off running towards the Superdome, with Roxas hot on his heels.


Demyx was singing to himself - something he hadn't done since he'd arrived in New Orleans. "Don't let go - you got the music in you! One more dance - this world is gonna pull through! Don't give up - you got a reason to live! Can't forget - you only get what you give!" He was happy enough to dance along and strange looks be damned, if he'd had room. Finally, I am getting achance to get out/ of that hellhole!/ He spun around on his heel, just because he could. Even though it was obvious he wouldn't be on the first few buses to leave - the crowd was just too huge - he was slowly working his way towards the front with a combination of agility and well-timed pathetic coughs, in the hopes of getting out in the first few trips or so. Who knows? If Iwind up going someplace interesting, I might stay there for a few days after Irecover.

He spun around again, but this time, his foot caught on something or other and he wound up taking a hard seat on the ground. The water bottle he'd been keeping with him for three days bounced out of his hand and rolled away. He reached out to retrieve it...and somebody stepped on his hand.

"Ow!" He yelped and snatched his hand back, stuffing it under his other arm. He looked up at the people around him - people he'd nearly fallen on ten seconds ago. Someone murmured an apology; Demyx couldn't see who. Giving his water bottle up as alost cause, he sighed and picked himself up off the ground with his uninjured hand.

"Some days I get the impression that life's just waiting for another chance to step on me while I'm dancing," he muttered.

"Don't we all, kid," someone replied. "It's gone and trampled us all already." Not a single person disagreed.

Demyx sighed. But I seem to keep dancing anyway...




Roxas and Zexion stopped dead in their tracks as one of the buses pulled away from the Superdome. "What do we do now?" Roxas whispered.

"Well, if there are any gods that look after Nobodies, we could pray that Nine wasn't on that bus, or that if he was we somehow manage to follow him...or we could continue as we have been. Isuggest the latter." Zexion followed his own advice, with barely amoment's pause for breath. Roxas did as well...but he paused long enough to take the first suggestion too.




Idiot...

Crazy...

Every word that comes out of your mouth sounds crazy to me...

Got it memorized?

Not like you're going to succeed...

Axel clutched at his head, staggering against the side of a building. What the hell am I doing here? Why didn't Ilisten to Roxas? Jumping up and running after Demyx had made so much sense to his fever-addled brain fifteen minutes ago. Now, his entire body was protesting, especially his head, and there wasn't much he could do. He had no idea what world he and Roxas had been shipped off to; he'd never be able to find his way back without help. Roxas was probably tearing the rest of his hair out. And sick as he was, he didn't have a snowball's chance of finding Demyx. He'd be lucky to make it out alive himself.

People were making their way through the debris-covered street, breaking windows and doors, forcing their way into buildings. Some emerged with arms full of food and other basic supplies, some carried out televisions and fancy furniture and other luxury items that would be completely useless in the ruined city. Axel barely noticed any of them, and most of them returned the favor, assuming he'd been looting a liquor store or something. As long as he wasn't in their way, no one cared.

Well, one person did. Noticing the redhead slumped against the wall, he set down his newly acquired stereo and drew a gun.

"That's a pretty snazzy coat you got there, man. Designer, I bet. Think it'd fit me real well."

Axel just stared at him. The man frowned. "Hey. You drunk or just stupid? I said give me that coat you got on. Stand up." Axel stood up, his eyes never leaving the man. "So you're not a total idiot. All right, now take that coat off and hand it -hey.../what the fuck?!/"




Roxas scrambled onto the plaza where the buses had been, and where a huge crowd was still gathered. "...I hope it's a while before any more buses come, because it's going to take us forever to find Demyx in all these people...Six, are you okay?"

Zexion was breathing raggedly, clutching his side. "I...will be...I'm just...out of...breath..."

"Do you want me to go in there looking for Nine?" Roxas took a hesitant step towards the crowd.

"No." Zexion held up a hand."Just...hold on." He opened his lexicon and carefully tore out a page with Demyx's picture on it, which somehow regenerated as soon as it left the book. "Take this. And...you may need...some assistance."

Suddenly, Roxas was surrounded by Zexions. The real one - the only one who was sitting down or without a cloak -almost smiled. "Now the search...can begin."




Zexion closed his eyes and lay back, focusing his mind on those of his clones. He had the ability to hear through their ears, and see - somewhat - through their eyes, though if he accidentally focused on more than one at a time, the effect was quite disorienting. Almost a pity he couldn't do the same with Thirteen, though Thirteen was far more capable of independent thought than a clone and would have sense enough to bring Nine back without being explicitly ordered to do so.

He focused on each clone in turn, as they worked through the crowd asking people if they had seen "my older brother - here's a picture of him".

"Nope, doesn't look familiar.""Can't say I have - think I'd remember that hair." "I've never seen anybody with eyes like that..." "Was he wearing a coat like yours?" "I saw a guy like that on Monday, said his name was Dennis...he looked like one of the Brown Men, 'cept made of flesh and blood instead of water...I tried to take his pulse, and he didn't have none - I figure he must have been an angel or somethin'!" "Yeah, I saw him, he almost ran into my brother...does he play sitar? 'Cause he told me he did when I offered to play some for him..." "I saw him on the bridge Thursday mornin' when the buses were supposed to get here...he started coughin' and someone pointed to him and said 'Look, people are getting sick in there'..." "I think my son stepped on his hand fifteen minutes ago..." "Zexion! Zexion!"




Demyx continued to work his way to the front of the crowd, even as the buses began to fill up and pull away. The damage to his hand was the last straw - he needed that hand to play, dammit! If there were any spaces left on any of the remaining buses, he wanted one, and if not, he wanted on the next bus to arrive; if he was still trapped in this crowd when his powers recovered fully, someone was going to drown.

So close to freedom, the people crowded around were even less receptive to someone else trying to sneak through; he dodged elbows, curses, and the occasional fist, not always successfully. Finally, he reached a point where the crowd was packed so tightly he couldn't find a way through. Sighing, he stood on tiptoe in the hopes of seeing a way through the mass of people - and he caught a glimpse of a child-size figure with silver-blue hair and a dark cloak.

The world spun around him for a moment.

"Zexion! Zexion!" Once he got his balance back, he started working his way away from the buses, towards where he'd seen the other Nobody. He was shaky with disbelief. Someone came...someone cared...




Zexion jerked upright when he heard his own name through his clone's ears."Nine?" he whispered aloud. His concentration broken, he hastily tried to refocus on whichever clone that had been...but he hadn't been paying enough attention; it could have been any of them. Gritting his teeth, he tried to see through their eyes, one at a time, having them stop and look around. Seeing was more difficult than hearing, and he'd probably do better to wait and listen for Nine to call his name again, but -

Ah. There. Someone in the crowd was moving away from the buses and freedom, and towards the clone whose eyes he was using. It had to be Nine.

Nine has seen you, he whispered in the clone's mind. Go meet him, he will be coming from that direction, and when you meet him, bring him to me. There was no verbalized response, just a notion of assent from the clone.




Demyx was shoving his way through the crowd now, calling Zexion's name all the while. People willingly got out of his way when they saw his face, rather than risk being run over. Where is he?...I wish he wasn't so short...did I really see him?

A small hand suddenly reached out from the crowd and seized his with remarkable strength. "This way," Zexion said in an unusually flat voice, even for him. He started running, dragging Demyx behind him, somehow penetrating the crowd far more easily than the taller man had.

"Hey - wait a sec - Zexion - where are you - what - hey - wait - slow down!"




Roxas was likewise abruptly jerked off-balance by a Zexclone. He didn't even have the chance to squawk in protest before being dragged away at top speed. What in Kingdom Hearts' name is he doing?!

They twisted and dodged through the crowd, with so many near misses and narrow escapes that eventually Roxas just covered his eyes and let the Zexclone lead the way, praying - just in case there were any gods that looked after Nobodies - that they'd stop before they both broke their necks. It wouldn't matter much to the clone, who'd be dispersed by the real Zexion anyway, but it certainly mattered to Roxas.

He stumbled and fell flat on his face as he suddenly found himself holding on to nothing at all. Somebody laughed; it sounded half like a cough. "Hi, Roxas!"

"Thirteen. Kind of you to join us." He looked up. Demyx and Zexion were standing there looking at him; Demyx was grinning like an idiot and trying to keep himself from coughing, Zexion had that strange half-smile he wore when he had some trouble remembering he couldn't feel happiness or amusement.

"Demyx...nice shirt. 'Love Potion#9'?"

Demyx shrugged, as if he hadn't heard the slightly sardonic tone of those words. "It's just what I happened to be wearing under my cloak when I got here..."

"I'll bet." Roxas stood up, brushing himself off. "Why didn't you come back?"

Demyx coughed again, looking a little sheepish. "I burned out."

"Well, then, why didn't you just wait until you were rescued? Why did you try to get on one of those buses? If you'd left, we'd never have found you!"

Demyx looked at the ground, slightly embarrassed. "I...didn't expect anyone to rescue me. I didn't think anyone cared enough."

Zexion sighed. "...Fortunately for you, you may have the opposite problem. And I had hoped your powers would prove useful if and when we found Eight."

Demyx's eyes widened. "What, he didn't come back?!"

"He...did...but..." Roxas hesitated. "It's a long story. What you really need to know is I think he came back to this world a little while ago to look for you, and I don't think he's really 'with it'."

Demyx swallowed hard and looked away."...I think he's in the French Quarter," he said softly after amoment.

Zexion looked at him sharply. "What makes you believe so?"

Demyx pointed at a rising column of dark smoke. "That."