#ienzo is afraid to use his powers but something happens where he is forced to

[big-friendly-birb]

Illusions of Light ✨

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 26--Break

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and Demyx try to come to terms with their broken soulbond. Ienzo helps Ansem rebuild their shattered kingdom.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even just held his palm over Demyx’s chest for a long time. “I’d thought--something felt off--but back when you were injured, I was…” He swallowed. “Perhaps a bit compromised--”

“Is it possible?” Ienzo asked. He was feeling weak, and his legs were aching. His own chest felt heavy. He wondered if this was what heartbreak felt like.

“Is it possible ? Yes. Is it easy? No. Doubtless he used darkness to sever that bond. No wonder your attack was so powerful, Ienzo, and sent you right into shock.”

“So it’s… true?” Demyx sounded like he’d been punched in the groin. “We’re really…”

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“But what about pairbonding?” Ienzo asked quickly. “If we are on some level intrinsically compatible, couldn’t we reestablish that bond in some small way? Choose it?”

“I suppose you… could,” Even said.

“Can it be fixed?” Demyx asked.

“It could only be fixed by whoever bound you… and the seeker colony in Destiny Islands is more or less eradicated.”

“What of my magic?” Ienzo asked. Yet again, he felt near tears. He didn’t think he’d ever cried so much. “If I am supposedly so powerful--”

Even’s eyes were very tired. “I suppose with your power--at its peak--it’s theoretically possible. But it’s not at its peak, Ienzo. Can you even feel it, after what happened?”

“...Scarcely.”

“What do we…” Demyx was gasping. “What do we do?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” It seemed to pain him to admit. “Perhaps you could work on this pairbond? Perhaps? There’s no spell or procedure I know that can fix this.”

Demyx just stared at Ienzo a long time. Wordlessly, he got up and left the room. Ienzo went to follow, but Even just took his hand.

“Let him,” he said. “He needs to grieve.”

“I feel such… pain,” Ienzo said. “Such…”

“Lie here.” He did so and felt Even probe him. “...Sadist,” he muttered.

“What?”

“He broke the bond on one end only.”

“Solely to cause me pain?”

“Quite.”

“But if I still have it…” His own breaths were coming hard and fast. “Can I… could it…”

“Reform? Ienzo, I have no idea. This is so far out of my depths I’m speculating.” He squeezed Ienzo’s shoulder. “You need time.”

“I feel like I’m bleeding.”

“I know, child.” He drew him into an embrace. “I know.”

To his surprise, Demyx was actually in with Amalia when he left Even’s lab. He was singing to her softly in that old language again, and she was clapping her hands and squealing with delight. If Ienzo had not been in so much pain, he would’ve garnered some pleasure from the grin she gave him when she saw him. She reached up to him.

“She wants you,” Demyx said numbly. Ienzo scooped her into his arms. He was still physically weak; it took work to pretend that picking her up didn’t tire him.

“Dad is giving you a concert, huh?” he asked. She just reached up to put her hands on his face.

“Noses are her new favorite thing,” he said, turning away to pick up toys off of the floor.

“I know, Demyx. I was here when that started.”

He jerked a little. “Right… I forgot. Still kinda stuck in single dad mode.”

“I suppose you must be.” Amalia babbled happily. “Do you want to see the gardens? Go outside?” She laughed. “How are you feeling?”

“Me?” His eyes were red. “Oh, you know.” His expression said as if I would answer in front of the baby.

“Perhaps you would want to… have some dinner later?”

He hesitated. “Okay. Just tell them to give her plastic this time, or maybe not anything glass they care about.”

He tried not to let his pain show. “...Alright.”

---

Ienzo thought he might be losing his mind. He knew giving into this heartbreak was exactly what Xehanort would’ve wanted, but it wasn’t like he could help it. Every time he saw Demyx he thought he might scream. Keeping something resembling peace between them for their daughter’s sake made it all the harder. Ienzo knew that as a seeker this was hitting doubly hard for him, but at the same time, was there really so little between them without the soulbond to justify this?

Ienzo began sleeping on the chaise in the drawing room near his daughter’s crib. He was not asked to do it, but sharing such a cold bed only made it harder. It wasn’t as though he slept well lately anyway. Demyx didn’t comment on it. Ienzo noticed he had stopped singing.

How could he begin to fix this?

Despite it all, there was still massive national upheaval. So Ienzo devoted himself to the care of Amalia and to his work.

The west coast was still giving them the most trouble. Pockets of Xehanort’s supporters--the ones who had helped the spread of his regime in the first place--held their towns hostage. The negotiations were complicated, and messy, and while Ienzo wanted nothing more for them to be judged for their heinous crimes, Ansem advocated leniency of all things. “If we jail them, they’ll just make it worse for their citizens,” he said. “The people’s safety is more important.”

“But if we let them off now there will never be a case in the future.” The courts, too, were still in shambles.

“You must learn compromise, Ienzo,” Ansem said gently.

Ienzo just stared at the sea of papers on the table where they were working. “After all these years… all the studies Even forced on me… I feel like I truly know nothing about becoming king.”

Ansem reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “You could have all the preparation in the world and you’d still feel naked,” he told him. “I did.”

“You did? But you’re so… well, wise.”

He chuckled. “Child, I was the “spare” in the “heir and a spare.” I did not anticipate ever having to go into politics, more than showing up to silly royal functions--that was all on your mother. So our mother let me go into my science, into my research, then all of a sudden one day I’m receiving a call that suddenly… I have been… ascended. ” He said the word bitterly. “I felt just as you do now. Helpless. Stupid. Ignorant.”

“How did you know I feel all those things?”

“It’s on your face.” He smiled. “I will help you, Ienzo. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves. We will rebuild together, which may take years. Once things have settled… we can revisit the matter as to whether or not you’re ready to rule independently.”

His eyes were hot from looking at so much paper. “Is it bad to say I did not think I’d ever get here? I always thought… I’d be running forever… I never envisioned a future for myself, much less my people. I never thought I'd actually live to rule.”

“A trauma response, doubtless.”

“You think I’m traumatized?”

“Surely you didn’t think such a life was mentally good for you? Living in the moment was the only way to cope.”

“I still don’t feel safe.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause. Ansem got up and turned on the electric kettle. “It is nice, to be together again,” Ienzo admitted. “Were I alone… I don’t think I could cope.”

Ansem handed him a cup of tea. “Connection is imperative.”

“...Yes.” He tried not to think of Demyx. He felt his nails digging into his palms. “Father, I…”

“It’s alright, Ienzo. You must grieve.” A substantial pause. “But with pain comes vulnerability, which might be useful. I was wondering…”

“What?”

“...If it might be time to reintroduce you to the people. The real you, not the mask you put on for Xehanort. You… and your daughter.”

Ienzo swallowed. “I looked like a traitor.”

“You were a captive doing your best to subvert an entire regime , which you did. Besides. I think the presence of your child… will make you look paternal. Trustworthy.”

“There’s so much we haven’t spoken about,” he murmured. “My time as a captive… my child… all this… this guilt I feel… the fact that I’ve taken human lives… I…”

“It’s alright to be upset.”

“My emotions are so close to my skin.”

“I’d be shocked if they weren’t.”

Ienzo shuddered. “And it feels strange to cry in front of you.”

He hugged him. “It’s alright, Ienzo. Best to do so rather than hold it all in.”

So he did. He felt like a child, but all the pain inside of him needed out somehow. Who else was he comfortable in front of? Not Demyx, surely, and Even was struggling with his own issues.

He wasn’t sure he felt better afterwards. He just felt exhausted. Ansem offered him a tissue. “I’m told Remy was able to recreate the sea salt ice cream you loved as a boy. Perhaps you might like to have some.”

“I think I need it, yes.”

---

Ienzo dangled Ansem’s proposal in front of Demyx, tentatively. “It was to happen eventually anyway, given her status,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact.

“...She’s only eight months old,” he said.

“It’s not like she’d have any duties. That is to say--”

“It’s to clear your name.”

“...As I am to be king, you have to admit it’s important.”

“...I dunno. Seems like you made your bed on that one.”

He’d had about enough. “What was I do to, then?” he snapped. “Fight and fight and fight and what, get killed? All that would’ve meant is Xehanort would still be here, still quite literally killing the earth, and Amalia would’ve grown up without me. I am doing my best, Demyx. I am. She is my child too. And sometimes I am allowed to make decisions on her behalf.”

Amalia seemed confused at the razors in his voice. She gasped once and started to cry. “You’re upsetting her,” Demyx said. “She’s not used to people--” His face flushed. Then, “What are we going to do, Ienzo?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us. With her.”

For a moment, Ienzo thought he might faint. “Do you really think there’s nothing salvageable?” he asked in a strangled voice. “Do you really think it’s not worth trying --”

“I don’t know. ” He was shaking. “All I know is that a huge part of me is fucking dead. And I just… wonder…” He took a shuddering breath. “I lost everything. My family, my memories, my friends, and now you?”

“...I know. I know that. Did you forget I did too?”

Silence. Amalia was still crying, more quietly. Ienzo scooped her up and kissed her brow.

“I was in hiding for twelve years before I met you. I know how you feel, Demyx. I do. I can’t pretend to understand how this affects your magic. I just know that… squabbling about all this isn’t going to help anything. I still…” He swallowed. “I still love you. And I understand if you can’t find that love within you. But for our daughter…” Diplomacy. Diplomacy. “Can we please at least be friendly? Come to agreements?”

He was breathing hard. “I was alone for so long.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to be happy.”

“I know.”

“Is this… ever going to end?”

Ienzo stroked Amalia’s hair. “Consider this,” he said softly. “By giving into this despair, we’re just giving Xehanort more power. By not fighting for one another, we’re letting him win. He wanted to divide us.”

Demyx’s eyes were watering.

“...I’m going to give her a bath. Let me know if you’d like to talk more about this. I certainly would.”

Once he had Amalia in the water, he couldn’t help but shed a few more tears of his own, feeling weak. She reached up with her wet little hands. “Ba,” she said, confused.

“I’m sorry for fighting in front of you, love. That wasn’t right. It won’t happen again.”

“Mm,” she said. He poured a cupful of water over her.

“Was what you told me right? Is this all going to work out?”

She cocked her head, her wet curls swaying slightly.

“...Perhaps you might like me to read you The Great Escape again before bed?”

She squealed. “Ba! Ba!”

“...Book. Very good.”

She picked at her navel. Ienzo found himself oddly envious of simpler times. This is not good for my mental state, he thought. Perhaps I should seek therapy as well. She made an odd face, and then shrugged her tiny shoulders.

“Are you itchy again?” He reached behind her to give her back a good scratch along the scales, in inverse Ls on her shoulder blades. She sighed. “Yes, feels better, doesn’t it?”

She opened her eyes wide. For a moment Ienzo was convinced she was seeing into him, and he felt dizzy. She reached up to touch his face, her small wet palm catching in his hair and pressing against his blind eye.

“Don’t poke people’s eyes, sweetie, it’s not ni…” A very, very odd feeling rushed over him, a vertigo, a prickling in his being. Everything inside of him went limp, and he collapsed.

[angelspigeon]

Moar angst? Maybe with a happy ending. Saix is dying in Lea's arms and he doesn't know whether or not he will come back. He tries to tell himself it's okay because Lea has found true friends that will make him happy, but Saix doesn't want to go because he also wants to be reunited.

Hi!!

YES ANGST!!!

Your angst was something I actually headcanon and needed to write for the vol 02 of my fanbook so THANK YOU!!! I finally got the occasion to write it down!!!

Maybe I got a bit carried away? I put in a lot of others relationship (and piece of a fanfic I couldn’t post but filled with headcanons) so I hope this will please you anyway!!

I won’t post it on AO3 because I think I will need to rework it a bit and just throw it in my fanbook later ya know so no AO3 door BUT those 3 205 words are all for you!!!

 When he died, it seemed to be the right thing…

Dying, be with Lea in Kingdom Hearts. Forever. Being by Lea’s side… It was the dream. The only thing he really wanted.

So why was he there? Why was he listening to Xemnas’ nonsense… again?

Why…

He hated every of his ideas. He hated the sound of his voice. He hated…

“Moony?!”

A hand moved in front of Isa’s eyes. No… Saïx. He hadn’t the luxury to be Isa. Isa was something lost, forgotten… He didn’t think he could only come back that child. He wasn’t sure he wanted. The name they called him had just really little importance when he was by Lea’s side…

The thing was that… he wasn’t in Lea’s side.

So Saïx looked up at Xigbar who had moved his hand in front of him.

“You’re with us?” he asked.

Was it being with them like sharing their view of what they will do, the conquest of the Worlds, or listening to them?

“I am,” he replied.

“Yeah… It didn’t seem so. But if you’re in! Come on! We need to find more friends! Or… how do you say when you use them, whatever if they are killed or not, in the end?”

“Object?”

“Yes! We need to find more living object!” Xigbar said. “Xemnas wants lot of them.”

“What will happen to us?”  he asked.

“You really want to know?”

He had something in his tone. Something telling that, exceptionally, he cared.

“Am I the kind of people who would waste his saliva?” Saïx wondered.

“You’re doing it, there. And every time you speak to me,” Xigbar smirked. “Though… Honestly?” he said with a grave and dull face. “Don’t expect to life old.”

“This doesn’t afraid you?”

Xigbar shook his head.

“No! Surely don’t! I’m a big boy and I will do great! But you…” Xigbar grabbed Saïx’s cheek, pressing them between his hands. “… I know you. Don’t die too fast, ‘kay?”

Saïx nodded.

But he didn’t know.

This battle was forcing them to walk on a path so different from Lea’s. And if he had to be against him?

He wasn’t made for that.

He had intertwined his life with him and could accept to be on a different path of him but he couldn’t accept to hurt him.

Even one second…

Though… giving up on his life to avoid hurting him… wouldn’t it hurt him even more? If Lea had forgotten him, that would be the worst for him because he wished to always live at least in his memories, but wouldn’t it be better?

For everybody.

  The sound of the pen against the paper was reverberating in the room.

As always, Saïx had to be there, helping Xemnas with the things he thought useless. Keeping order in his thoughts was his work. It was annoying. But it helped. He had managed to climb all the stairs to finally arrive there. He had the confidence of his Chief, one of the most important members of the new Organization, and he had access to every of his plan…

Of the whole Organization plans.

Like the last time, he had every way to destroy everything he wanted at default to success what he wished the most.

He couldn’t access this.

He was unable to do what he wanted.

His only wishes, at this exact moment… was to make sure Lea could be happy. If his life was about to end… Of course, it was about to end. Any Xehanort really thought they could win? When they have so many powerful people against them? And no one in their side…

And what he expected…

“We could use the Replicas…”

“The Replicas, Sir, are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Xemnas walked toward Saïx. “We don’t have the time to convince people to follow our lead but we can bring back people sharing our ideas. This would offer us an opportunity to win over the Light. Especially because, as for you, I can trust them.”

Saïx looked down on the papers he had. Every information needed stocked and stacked just right in front of his eyes. They had gathered a few members. Xigbar, Luxord, Marluxia, Larxene… him, of course. This was showing a little obsession of the man. And, yes, Saïx could understand the need to turn back even more toward trustable people. Another past, because it was obvious Axel… Lea, wouldn’t come back and Roxas couldn’t come back. Yet… it wasn’t impossible.

But…

People were missing.

A lot of them.

They needed Replicas.

To fill what was missing and, as Saïx was passing through those who could complete the equation…

“My Lord… Do you remember that puppet we used to have with us? Xion.”

She wasn’t supposed to vanish from memories. It wouldn’t follow Vexen’s plans. He wanted his work to be remembered! Lot of those who saw her just didn’t care much about her and the others… Axel… Saïx begged for make it vanish from his memories. To protect him from everything. He had lost Roxas, he couldn’t lose more… suffer.

He knew he was doing mistakes but they have the way for that.

But now… Now, Axel, or Lea, couldn’t forget something. Not completely and he knew… He knew he would remember her one day. He knew he hadn’t forgotten her for real…

“You want us to use this puppet?”

Saïx nodded. “If we managed to have Vexen by our side, we could have Replicas and he would bring her back. She owns a Keyblade so she is fitting the role more than… me, for example,” he said.

“You own a part of me since so longtime, I think you perfectly fit the role. Anyway, if this idea seems interesting… Will Vexen accept to join us?”

“I can convince him, if you allow me to try, Sir,” Saïx offered.

“Very well.”

“Thank you,” his Second replied, bowing in front of him.

  Saïx couldn’t understand how Vexen had accepted to let go on his Humanity for the sake of the plans. He didn’t understand how he could abandon his Heart… But he did it. Only to fulfil their goals. His goal. Vexen wanted to have his revenge, to redeem himself… next to his son, Ienzo.

For that, he needed to step in the Devil’s Lair and give them a bit of what they wanted.

Only to fulfill his desire.

They all were ready to make sacrifice.

Saïx was ready for them to.

All of them…

“What will you do when the moment will arrive?”

Vexen didn’t look up when he heard the question behind him. For now, they were eleven. And they will be, certainly, thirteen when Xion will be made. But Saïx didn’t want her to share his fate. Maybe she could overgrow this. Maybe he could find someone else to replace her. Even if it has to be Sora? Unless Lea had affection for him?

He… he didn’t care about disappearing. He didn’t think Lea would really miss him. He didn’t think he still deserved Lea’s love but… Vexen?

“I’m the one who create the Replicas. I don’t think I risk anything,” Vexen said. “I will make sure they are enough so I don’t have to fight and die.”

“But what will you do for…”

Saïx showed his eyes.

Vexen smirked. “I can live with that. Maybe it will disappear when everything will be done, though. I’ll see.”

“I see…” Saïx whispered.

“When will you be done with…”

The door opened. Saïx immediately went quiet. But his eyes widened.

It wasn’t that surprising to see Xigbar, even if he had that smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

But what he had under his arm…

“Hi, Saïx!”

Just in front of his eyes, Demyx was waving his hand.

Vexen had nothing to do with this discussion. He had so many works left to finish with Xion. And the Replica for Roxas. He needed Xemnas for Xion but for Roxas, they only needed Sora. And so, this will bring more difficulties in all of this.

“We’re trying to have enough Replica for the Darkness’ plans. What Demyx is doing here?”

“I couldn’t stay dead and away from you!! I couldn’t believe it when I was alive! But couldn’t reach to you! I’m so sorry. I should have come back to you. But it was hard to know if I was welcome?”

“Of course, you were,” Saïx replied.

Why not? Except the creeping fear that he would be killed again by the Light… Creeping fear becoming worst again  when he noticed Demyx’s eyes…

Yellow.

“Enough Replicas, uh?” Xigbar asked as he walked toward the inanimate puppet.

“It’s going to be big,” Vexen replied. “Everything we can wish for and more!”

“I wish a lot of things!” Xigbar smirked. He moved his arm away from Demyx and approached the Replica, only to turn toward Saïx and press his cheeks between his hands. “I wish you make him smile.”

“I never said I can do Miracles,” Vexen replied.

Saïx frowned even more.

Demyx jogged to Saïx, hugging him.

It was just the shadow of a smile, but he managed to make the Second-in-Command smile anyway.

Very few where those who knew the affection Saïx had for Demyx. He always seemed to hate him, not care at all, and even despised his presence. But that didn’t mean it was what he truly thought. When you were someone as important as him, it was crucial not to show your true feelings.

Lea, Axel, seemed already to be an easy target. But Demyx… he always frightened that it would be an easier target…

At this exact moment, he preferred not to think about that. He preferred looking at that Replica and hope. Hope that it meant everything will be alright…

  In his bedroom, Saïx was laying on the mattress. He didn’t need to sleep but sometimes, he didn’t want to work…

He heard a sound at his door and turned his head, not welcoming anyone though. Either that person will leave, either it was someone who will enter anyway so… he preferred to be quiet, to let the thoughts swirl in his head and invaded him.

The door opened.

“Hey, Saïx, can I come?”

“Even if I say ‘no’, you will.”

“Right!”

The door closed and, just a few seconds after, he could feel a body against his. He moved his arm so he could lightly embrace the one who was snuggling against him as if he wasn’t a living threat…

“You don’t mind, right?”

Saïx moved his head toward Demyx. As if it was really the kind of things he would worry about… Demyx had a Heart filled with light and Saïx often wondered how he could have been with them. As much as for Roxas, probably.

Roxas…

Saïx wondered if they could success…

“Can I say something to you?” Demyx asked.

Saïx nodded slightly in the Darkness of the room.

“I was surprised when Xiggy mentioned you. I heard Lea joined the Light and… I thought he was the love of your live…”

“I don’t have the luxury to choose,” Saïx replied. “I’m only waiting for…”

He closed his eyes. There were two wolves within him. One still had hope and the other was less idiot and know the truth.

“You can wait for him with me,” Demyx smiled, trying to cheer him up.

“And if he doesn’t find me?”

“More time together!!” the boy burst with joy.

Saïx clamped his hand on his belly. Demyx bit his lower lip, seeing this, and hugging him tightly.

“Please, don’t think about this,” he said in the hollow of his ear. “You’re doing really fine.”

“Thank you…”

Those words Demyx had said to him wasn’t something Saïx was used to hear. At least not without being like a bone throw at a dog…

“Do you want something?” Demyx offered.

“No. It’s fine,” Saïx replied.

“Tell me if you need anything.”

Saïx wasn’t surprised the boy tried to do so much for him. He almost expected Demyx to propose him to play music for him… Thank God, he didn’t. Though Saïx could remember the time where his music was the only thing he could bore. And when he was so desperate because Demyx disappeared and there was no more music in The World That Never Was. Because their empty lives were even more empty. Because he felt so left alone…

Even Xigbar tried to cheer him up but everything had shattered, little by little when Axel left them. Left him.

And after that… he was just taking the longest road to his own Doom. This was supposed to be his salvation and now…

Somehow, he was happy to be there because he really liked Demyx even if he didn’t show it much. He really had been with him in the hard time when his whole existence had shattered, piece by piece. When he needed to grab on something and the Promise on Kingdom Hearts became less sure, when his hate was so strong… Without Demyx and Xigbar, he didn’t know what he would have become.

So… being there, being with Demyx once again finally… wasn’t it the most logical end?

  A few months before, for the sake of Axel, Saïx had hoped this puppet will never move anymore.

Now, for the sake of Lea, Saïx hoped this puppet will move…

Vexen had no fear for a random Replica and he swore that, as soon as Roxas will touch his Heart, he will be complete again. In a Replica, yes, but he would be there and his own being. As he always had been. He could live his life as he deserved it.

But for the puppet here…

Saïx walked like a wolf in a cage, waiting.

“Will you be able to do it for Naminé, too?” he wondered.

“Yes,” Vexen replied, fixing the last details to call back Xion.

He had very little information about her and her own being was so strange. It was more difficult.

“I will manage to have you pushed on the side but make sure it will be the same for Demyx. I will give you the opportunity to leave and do what you want. Don’t fail on me.”

“Silence, Saïx,” Vexen said.

Saïx folded his arms.

“You want to redeem yourself, I want it too. You will have what you want and so me too,” the scientist said to him.

“I don’t want to redeem myself,” Saïx replied.

It was only selfish.

In fact, Vexen could understand it too. They weren’t that different. But Xemnas wasn’t that different than them neither…

Saïx kept walking, glancing at the puppet.

He stopped.

Her fingers had moved.

He saw them move. Just at the right instant…

He approached the table with hope.

Vexen ignored him. Ignored her.

“Xion?” Saïx called.

The hand moved. A relieve bathed Saïx. Roxas and Xion will be there soon… Once this will be done…

“One last thing,” Vexen said.

“Yes?”

Saïx wasn’t looking toward him because Xion was sitting just in front of him.

“She will not be Xion as you remember her until her Heart could connect with Sora.”

Saïx turned his head toward him.

“So… I will bring her to the fight.”

He was annoyed because Lea couldn’t remember her and risked to hurt her. And if it happened, Lea wouldn’t forgive himself. But he will make sure this wouldn’t happen. He didn’t plan to let Lea be sad. Soon, he will be reunited with Roxas and Xion. And he will be happy…

What could he hope more than this?

  The day of the big battle arrived.

Too soon.

Saïx knew that Vexen had brought a Replica for Roxas. He knew that Demyx was in a safe place. He knew Xion will soon be her again… She will be alive.

Everything will be alright.

He just needed…

“Moony?”

Saïx turned his head toward Xigbar who walked toward him.

“What will you do?”

“What do you mean?”

He groaned when he felt Xigbar’s hands on his cheeks. The man was always forced to touch him like that?! It was annoying…

And yet… the gesture was tender.

He always was happy to receive that affection from him.

Wasn’t it the worst that him, who had grown up being alone and avoiding to be touched, he ended up being very close of people who needed to show their affection that way?

“I know for Demyx and I know for the two others… You will leave?”

“Why would I?”

“You will join Lea, right? I wish you my best wishes!”

Saïx shook his head, looking down.

“Why?” Xigbar asked.

“I belong to Xemnas. I’m stained by him and there is nothing for me. No one who could care…”

“I…”

“You will forget me, Xigbar.  I knew this was what will happen to me months ago… I suppose I have to thank you? For having let this time less painful? The day I lost my Heart was the last time I was allowed to have one… I accepted the fact. My Heart is…” Saïx’s fists were shaking. “The only Heart I need is Lea…” he whispered.

“Is that what you want? It’s over?”

Saïx nodded.

“You know you have a chance to come back if you die.”

“I don’t think it will happen.”

Xigbar pressed his hands over his cheeks and leaned to press his forehead against him.

“Then, I will hope for two…” he whispered.

  “See you, Isa…”

Hope…

They all talked about hope. Saïx never had this hope. He just had will. Will to pursue. Will to fix things… Will to make Lea happy…

From the beginning, it always had been what he wanted. The very beginning. The first day he saw him, at the window of his house. The day when his Heart met the only one…

Hope seemed so dull. So vain…

Why would he hope?

He didn’t believe there was a right place to die and yet… he was dying in the best place in the World… In the warm and soft embrace of the one he loved. The man who will be surrounded with those he loved, finally…

Lea would be happy.

Why having hope when his sole purpose in life was finally fulfilled.

Lea would be happy…

But… the green eyes were filled with tears. He hated see them like that… He regretted the old spell, the upside-down tears.

He didn’t want Lea to be sad.

He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to be somewhere else than in Lea’s arms. It wasn’t fair… He wanted to be there to see him happy. He wanted to wake up every morning next to him and to kiss his face. He wanted to hear his voice.

He didn’t want to leave him alone.

Roxas and Xion could really fill the hole he will create in Lea’s Heart? He wanted to believe it because he was nothing and he wanted Lea happy but those eyes on him were saying something else.

And…

And he didn’t want to leave.

He wanted to come back. He wanted to hope…

He wanted to hope he will come back and see Lea’s smile every day…

“… See you, Lea…”

[nadziejastar]

Xemnas: A heart is never lost for good. There may have been variances in our dispositions, but a number of us unquestionably showed signs of a burgeoning replacement. Once born, the heart can also be nurtured. Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self. But understand, one can banish the heart from the body, but the body will try to replace it the first chance it gets, for as many times as it takes. And so I knew, even after we were divided into Heartless and Nobodies, it was just a temporary separation.

Sora: Why, then? Why did you lie to them and tell them they had no hearts?

Xigbar: Xemnas and Xehanort formed the Organization for a specific reason–round up a bunch of empty husks, hook them up to Kingdom Hearts, then fill them all with the exact same heart and mind. Translation–they were gonna turn all the members into Xehanort.

I suppose. But I’d still say it was more likely that they were being experimented on in the lab that day. That was the Heartless Manufactory. Xemnas said that the experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind and get it to renounce its sense of self. And Xehanort formed the Organization in order to take the empty husks and fill them with Xehanort’s heart and mind.

“I can’t claim to know the outcome of this venture, either. We are dealing with hearts, after all—unpredictable at best.” Ansem aimed the end of the device at Kingdom Hearts. The one great heart—Kingdom Hearts. But what was a heart? For all that, I never did find the answer, Ansem thought.

When a person’s heart was taken from them, a Heartless was created, a thing with no sense of self, while the body and soul left behind would become the makings of a Nobody. But what if someone deliberately released their heart from their body through the strength of will alone? Sora and Xehanort had managed to retain their selfhood even after becoming Heartless.

In other words, it sounds like Xehanort thought that Nobodies would make the perfect vessels.

Ansem’s Report 13

Where does the body go when it separates from the heart? If the soul remains within the body, is it still considered to be deceased? When the heart returns to the Heartless, the physical form disappears. But that is merely true in this world. Perhaps the body exists in another form in another world. If that is the case, then it is possible for one to exist in two worlds. A being that is neither darkness nor light; belonging nowhere; abandoned by its heart; a mere shell of its former self. The relation between the heart and body is complex. However, I am certain that if your self exists here, then by definition, the other cannot truly “exist.” The other, the one which does not exist, shall be dubbed, “Nobody.”

Xehanort apparently is the one who discovered Nobodies during these experiments. He probably assumed that they would have no sense of self, like the Heartless.

The group called the Organization is a group of nobodies who gathered together. Nobodies–beings who don’t exist. Beings who lost their hearts to darkness, Heartless. And then, when strong-hearted beings become Heartless, the body and soul exist separately from the heart, and receive life in this land. That’s a Nobody. And then, Nobodies born from the owners of especially strong-hearted beings fall into birth still retaining their human shape. That means, the Nobodies gathered as Organisation members once held strong hearts. Really? Axel wondered to himself. Did that self in my memories really have a strong heart? Don’t really know. And then, Nobodies without hearts wish for only one thing. A heart. If I was asked if I wanted a heart, I guess I’d answer that I did. But, do I really want a heart? Can a heart really fill this hollowness I’ve carried since I fell into existence as a Nobody?

Most Nobodies that are born are like Dusks. Only a very strong-hearted person creates a Nobody that retains the same shape as its former self. That seemed to be the ultimate goal of the experiments, at least at the end. Xehanort wanted to find strong-hearted people, create humanoid Nobodies by turning them into Heartless and then he’d have perfect vessels. And he apparently tricked the apprentices (except Braig) into willingly becoming Nobodies. They’d be exactly the same, just without hearts. And of course, he’d use the test subjects from the experiments who didn’t become corrupted by darkness. They would obviously have strong hearts and if he forcibly extracted their hearts like he did with Braig, then they’d create special Nobodies.

“I am Lexaeus. You’ve done well thus far. But to possess your powers and yet fear darkness… What a waste.”

Riku scowled. “I do not…fear it!” he said as if to convince himself. “I’m—”

“I sense that you do,” Lexaeus interrupted, quite unperturbed. “You’re also capable of controlling the darkness. Cast away your useless fear. Open your heart and embrace the darkness.”

“And if I don’t?” Riku retorted, steadily closing in on Lexaeus.

If he embraced the darkness, he would become stronger—but he didn’t need that kind of strength. He only wanted to use his own strength.

Lexaeus absolutely talks like becoming a Nobody was a choice he made. He looks down on Riku for being afraid of darkness.

Lexaeus gave him the briefest of smiles and raised his heavy ax-like sword. “Then, you lose both light and darkness—and disappear!” Enormously powerful darkness radiated from him, fierce enough to make Riku think of Ansem. Riku grunted as the pressure of it slammed against him.

“I, Lexaeus, will not yield to the frail heart of an infantile coward! Now, stop resisting—and let the darkness in!”

“Never!” Riku brandished Soul Eater and rushed at Lexaeus. “I am not afraid of the darkness!”

“Ha! Nonsense! You can become stronger… But if you do not accept the darkness…you will be destroyed!” Lexaeus’s sword knocked Riku back and came down on the floor with enough force to cleave it, scattering chips of marble, which Lexaeus crumbled in his fist.

These bits from the CoM novels are sadly the most characterization Lexaeus gets. 

“Rgh… To think…you had so much power…” Now Lexaeus dropped heavily to his knees.

Riku jumped back to put some distance between them, also out of breath. “What’s the matter, Lexaeus…?” he said between gasps.

Even without using the darkness…I can still defeat you.

“Darkness isn’t…all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” Riku told him. “This fight…is mine.”

But you can tell that he is really obsessed with strength.

Lexaeus gave him a cruel smile. “Hmph…so I must accept my defeat here. But do not make the mistake of underestimating the darkness in me! As I am destroyed, it will leave this ruined vessel and drown you!”

Then there was a terrible shock wave far greater than what Riku had felt from the darkness that Lexaeus radiated before the battle.

“Wh…what’s happening?!” A relentless swirl of darkness surrounded him, swallowing him up until he disappeared into it.

Lexaeus laughed madly. “This is my strength… I, number five in the organization… I who was once his favorite pupil!”

Those were Lexaeus’s final words before he vanished into the darkness.

We do get a particularly interesting bit of info. He was a favorite pupil. Given the way he talks about fearing the darkness, it sounds like he’s referring to Xehanort. Aeleus was lured in by the promise of greater power.

When Zexion thought back on their erstwhile research, the “plan” seemed to him like a contradiction in terms—trying to reclaim what they had lost through their own actions. He didn’t believe they had done anything wrong by studying and producing the Heartless. It just so happened that in that process, they had forfeited their own hearts.

Zexion said that they lost their hearts while studying and producing Heartless. Of course, he was a kid, so I don’t expect him to know everything that was going on with Xehanort. But he and Even lost their hearts around the same time. Ienzo doesn’t talk like Xehanort personally extracted his heart like he did with Braig. He speaks like it was the result of the experiment they were doing.

“I tell you, the project failed,” Marluxia repeated. “And I must report that failure to our leader.”

Their leader—a man who had once had another name with other memories… He was the actual fake. The one who had stolen the identity of Ansem.

“What— No, wait! Don’t tell him that!” Vexen sounded as if he might fall to his knees and beg.

Marluxia made a small cruel smirk and told him quietly, “Perhaps we can work something out.”

“How?” Vexen looked up.

And all I can really say about Even is that he doesn’t like going down into the basement where the experiments took place, because apparently he has bad memories of being there. And he is absolutely terrified of Xehanort. I don’t think he was ever a willing participant in what was going on. But he seems to have gone along with what the others were doing due to fear and probably a desire to protect Ienzo.

Day 119: Hearts and Emotion

Author: Xaldin

Watching that foolish beast flail about only deepens my disdain for humans and their incessant need to be pinned down by feelings. We became Nobodies precisely to avoid the shackles of emotion. It was only later that we realized the scale of that loss: that some things simply cannot be done without a heart. Nonetheless, I see nary a pleasant thing about it.

Xaldin flat-out states that he chose to become a Nobody to escape emotions. When they were recompleted, Even, Ienzo, Dilan, and Aeleus were inside of that transporter area. This is what let the MCP warp Sora into Space Paranoids. And Braig was already with Young Xehanort when he was recompleted.

“We’re Nobodies. We have no one to be—we just are. But now you don’t have to be at all. No more existence, no more memories.

You’re off the hook.”

Axel didn’t seem to be paying attention to Sora and the others. He only looked at Vexen.

“No one to be?” What could that even mean…?

But Lea and Isa were outside of that area, and they were the only two “apprentices” wearing the black robes. Lea looks like he was going towards the computer and Isa looks like he was going towards Lea. And Axel never talked at all like someone who ever planned to lose his heart like all the other apprentices. He clearly was not in on whatever plan they had. Axel treats the apprentices far differently than the other Organization members. He’ll happily play cards with Luxord, and he defends Demyx when Roxas makes fun of him for being useless. But he delights in taking out Vexen and Zexion. And those two seemed like they were the apprentices who were the least morally responsible for what happened.

“Nothing less from the great Ansem—that’s what I should say, isn’t it? Or maybe—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m protecting those islands!” Riku rushed into range, but this time the Claymore, Saïx’s sword, was there to block Soul Eater.

“How do you expect to protect anything when you’ve cloaked yourself in darkness? You sold your soul for power. Was it worth it?”

“Shut up.” Soul Eater pushed back the Claymore with a terrific clang.

When Saïx faces Riku in KH2, he acts absolutely disgusted with him for giving himself over to darkness in order to gain power. He was furious when Naminé told him he had a heart. He wanted one more than anything.

The human form of Xigbar, one of Organization XIII’s members. He became a Nobody during a certain experiment.

The journal in KH3D said that Braig became a Nobody during a certain experiment. And in KH3D, all of the Nobodies who have been recompleted have separate journal entries. Lea, Braig, Even, Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan all have journal entries for their regular selves. But Isa didn’t get one. Just Saïx. It implies that he wasn’t even recompleted as Isa at all. And when Braig and Young Xehanort retrieve him, he’s still unconscious. Young Xehanort calls him “Saïx” before he’s even retrieved. There was just nothing to ever indicate that they were apprentices before KH3. And it still feels implausible at best.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 25-- Deconstruction/Reconstruction

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  With Radiant Garden under control of the resistance, it's time to rebuild. Ienzo tries to repair the damage done to his family.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

White sheets. Cool air. Color and light. He felt so heavy, and it took him a moment of grappling into consciousness to realize it was because he could barely move his legs.

“Ienzo? Love?”

Ienzo turned his head as much as he was able. He seemed to have motion in his upper body, but even that was difficult, like tugging on puppet strings. “Ev-even?” He swallowed.

“Would you like some water? I’ll get some. Don’t move.”

As if he could help it. Blurrily, he saw Even retreat to a corner of this room--the castle infirmary?--and pour water from a pitcher. He knew he should be grateful to still be sighted at all, after using so much magic. He squinted. Even handed him the cup; he could barely close his hand around it, but he managed it at last. Despite IV fluids, he was so thirsty .

“Are you in any pain? I can get you some medication if--”

“No. I’m not. But I can’t… it’s hard to move.”

“...I know.” Even smoothed some of the hair from Ienzo’s face. His own face was pale, pinched, a large bruise along his throat yellowing. “From the magic use. Breaking down a limiter of that strength… then triggering what you did… frankly, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“Will I be like this… always?”

“I’m optimistic you’ll recover yet, but… there may be some lingering effects.”

“What’s happened? How long have I been out? Where’s Amalia? Where’s--?”

“One thing at a time, child. It’s imperative you remain calm.”

Ienzo tried to center himself, tried to take deep breaths. Even took his hand and rubbed it, gently.

“Amalia is safe and well. I suspect Ansem is enjoying having time with her. Once he received some blood replacement, Demyx was fine too. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you’re awake. It was all rather… dramatic, how it went down. You’ve been unconscious close to three weeks.”

“Aeleus? ...Isa? What of… everything else? Xehanort’s forces? The son who called himself Ansem? He wasn’t in the throne room that day--”

Even’s eyes went blank, and he turned towards the window. “I’m afraid when I… felt your burst of magic--it was felt everywhere, Ienzo, I don’t think you understand--I assumed the worst and I--I did something reckless. He was our jailer, in my old labs, something he no doubt had great pleasure in. For the first time in my life… I acted on impulse.” He looked at his free hand, which was trembling. “I knew you were in trouble, and I--”

Ienzo had never heard Even sound so shaky. He choked down guilt. “You killed him.”

“...He was the gatekeeper.�� He’d turned faintly green.

“Was that the first time you took a life?”

“It does not matter. It needed to happen either way.” He swallowed. “I made my way there, with ease. You killed every Heartless in the vicinity. Those that were human were knocked unconscious, or fled.”

“I… I did?”

“...Quite. The initial scouting indicates that… you may have slain every one in the city.”

“It was not conscious,” he admitted. “All I saw was that Demyx was bleeding out and the soulbinding reacted to all that--”

“--and the rush of emotions triggered magic. Of course it did.”

Ienzo lay back a little. “So without the three of them… and no Heartless…”

“The capital city’s under the control of the resistance.” But there was no happiness in his expression.

“Shouldn’t we be… glad? This is among the best case scenarios--”

“The sudden death of Xehanort and two of his sons has caused something like a power vacuum. The people don’t know how to react. There’s still darkness and various devotees of it spread throughout the country. Some states have turned over towards us, but others are… hesitant. Waiting to see might happen. And there are those who are outright fighting. Aeleus and Isa are among the front line, trying to see what can be done to restore order without worsening things. Meanwhile your father is trying to pursue international aid… and research better ways to defeat the darkness.”

“And of you?”

A pause. “I’ve been taking care of you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be relieved to go back to research, then.”

Even reached forward to smooth Ienzo’s hair. “To be truthful, it has been nice, to have this space to think. To consider.”

Ienzo understood. “...It’s alright if you’re upset, Even.”

“It is so silly , that I feel such guilt for killing one who’s killed thousands with his actions--but my feelings are not important.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Ienzo struggled to sit up; Even adjusted the pillows under him. “So much for fighting back.”

“I think you’ve done enough. You must recover for what comes next.”

“Amalia. I need to see her.”

He hesitated.

“Please, Even.”

“...Quite.” He seemed to go a little deeper into himself. “Perhaps there will be one day when I’m not constantly in fear of your life.”

“I sincerely hope so.”

Ienzo watched him leave the room. He’d never seen Even so scattered before, so almost… unsure . Had something else happened he was not telling Ienzo, about the man calling himself Ansem? That bruise…

He hadn’t been conscious long, but he was already exhausted. He could still feel his legs, but moving was the problem. Perhaps he could get a wheelchair, and get around that way? He couldn’t seriously sit around and do nothing while all this fighting happened--

The door opened. In came Demyx, carrying their daughter. She’d gotten even bigger since Ienzo last saw her--another month he’d missed--and she was chewing on a teething ring. “Hey,” he said, softly. Like Even, his eyes were closed off.

“How do you feel?” Ienzo asked.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Ugly scar, but oh well, right? How are… you?” Amalia was staring at him, not with fear like before, but perhaps curiosity. Ienzo tried to reach out to her with his magic, but it was like swatting wet laundry; it didn’t come instantly to his call. So instead he reached out one trembling hand. She smiled and handed him the slimy teething ring. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure daddy doesn’t want that.”

“Could I…” He wasn’t sure he was physically strong enough to hold her.

“Ah… sure.” Demyx pulled the chair closer to the bed and plopped her onto the mattress. “I’ve been… bringing her in here for a while every day. While daddy takes his long nap, right?”

She made a sound like “boo.”

“She talks.” Tears rose to his eyes.

“Well. Vocalizes.”

She clapped her hands together.

“And she can hold herself up.”

“She crawls, too. Ah--like that.” She had dragged herself almost across Ienzo’s lap. “I have a feeling she’ll be running before long.”

Amalia looked up at him and made a noise that could only be expressed as “?”

“Daddy,” Demyx said to her helpfully. “You remember now, yeah.”

“Baba.”

“Daddy. Good.” He smoothed the curls off her forehead.

Ienzo felt a rush of affection which was almost painful. “Look at you, big girl.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She tugged at the sleeve of his robe. “Can you help me?” he asked Demyx.

“Sure.” He eased her into his lap. Amalia pressed her cheek against his chest. “See? Crisis averted.”

“I’m guessing the curls came from you.”

“The only time my hair was long enough to tell was when I was underwater, so.” He shrugged. Amalia gave him a toothless smile. “Look at you, happy girl.”

Ienzo noticed the difference in his voice when he spoke to the two of them. “Are you comfortable? Here?”

“Oh, yeah. Ansem set us up nice in your old room. If you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”

Another shrug. “Oof, drool patrol.” He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at it. “She’s teething something wicked.”

“Maybe the next time you come you could bring me a book, so I could read to her.”

“She’d probably like that.”

Ienzo wrapped his arms loosely around her, and she let him. Feeling the warmth and weight of her--the subtle twitch of her limbs-- and hearing her little babbling eased this awful ache he’d had for so long. “I missed you,” he said to her. He kissed her head. “I missed you so much. I just… hope we can be a family now.”

“That would be nice,” he said softly. “Wouldn’t it?” The last part he repeated in a goofy voice, and Amalia laughed. “You think you’ll be okay?”

“Even’s optimistic. And I trust him.”

“He’s been up here almost constantly.”

“But the castle is… safe, for you two?”

“Oh, yeah. Magic users crawling out of the woodwork to help. I've still got some fight in me."

“I hope that soon I can be back on my feet, and start being a bigger part of her life.”

“One thing at a time.” Ienzo wondered if he was imagining the flatness in his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Li-li?”

---

It took Ienzo weeks to start feeling something resembling “normal.” For several nights the pain of his healing nerves kept him awake, but at least once it was through with he could limp around a little. He could play with Amalia a little more actively. Physical therapy made him somewhat stronger, and while he had to use a cane to walk more than a few steps, Even believed it would be gone before long.

Members of his family and the resistance ducked in and out. Ansem brought him books, briefed him on the situation as it developed. “Almost feels as though my skills to rule have grown rusty,” he admitted. “It is difficult to tell… which members of parliament left are lying, when they say they did not hold any allegiance towards Xehanort. I’m tempted to dissolve the whole thing and hold elections, but we simply can’t do so at the moment. Making sure our people are fed and safe and cared for is more important than politics at the moment. Thankfully the bordering nations have been kind enough to send along resources and medics.”

“I wish I could help,” Ienzo said. “Being here, waylaid and helpless --”

Ansem just patted his hand. “You jumpstarted a revolution, Ienzo,” he said.

“So I’m told, but I wonder if you all are exaggerating to salve my ego.”

The pat became more of a squeeze. “Control of Radiant Garden was crucial,” he said. “And you achieved that.”

“Only because Xehanort mortally wounded Demyx, and I reacted instinctively--were it not for that my whole plan would’ve collapsed--”

“Ienzo. Why are you being hard on yourself?”

He felt tears in his eyes. “These past six months… I’ve been sitting here in luxury playing silly mind games while my daughter grew up without me, while the rest of you suffered. ”

“You did the best you could with what you had--and you did pretty damn well. This guilt is pointless, Ienzo.”

“I… I know.”

“We are together now. We will rebuild. And I hope things will be better than they were before.”

He sniffled. “Is it over? Can it just be over?”

Ansem drew him into an embrace.

---

Spring began in earnest. Ienzo realized one morning as he woke in the infirmary that the lingering smell of darkness that had hung over Radiant Garden was gone, and a fresh rain brought in the sea air. He no longer needed the cane, but he tired easily, and his legs still ached tremendously. Once he was well enough, he insisted that he be more involved in the reconstruction, insofar as he could.

There was the reality of Xehanort’s youngest son’s experiments. Ienzo had purged the Heartless, but the poor people who had not been transformed were instead traumatized and in some cases catatonic. While there were doctors and psychologists willing to help them, it was hard to tell if they could be helped. Ansem organized national days of mourning for those who had been lost, and released the lists of names so families could have closure. The youngest son had kept meticulous records.

He asked community leaders to come forward with ideas as to help their nation move on. Darkness still existed; but now that people had hope, they were more willing to fight. That, and with the darkness easing, they were getting early signs that the planet could still heal. Ienzo swore he could feel its pulse, its life reaching up to his magic. He wished he did not feel so powerless.

“We don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” Ansem said in a broadcast. “Clearly, “normal” meant “suffering” for some. Darkness… only made that pain more obvious. If we wish to maintain the light, we must heal one another.”

Finally, Ienzo was well enough to go back to his rooms, and begin repairing his family… because it was going to take a lot of work. Amalia was more familiar with him, more comfortable, but still she always looked towards Demyx when she needed something.

And there was the matter of… Demyx.

At first Ienzo thought the distance between them was all paranoia on his part, but it became clear in the way Demyx spoke to him, especially when it came to their daughter. “You dressed her in that? She hates that one, it’s itchy against her scales.” “Sure. You can do that. I guess.” “Look, I know you’re trying, but strawberries give her gas .” “You let her nap too long. Now she’s not going to sleep through the night.” That, and the flatness in his eyes. It wasn’t openly unfriendly, but it lacked the warmth that they’d had before.

More straining than this, in some ways, was sharing a bed. Ienzo had honestly been looking forward to reconnecting on a physical level--he hoped it would help him sleep the deep way he had when they lived together--but that first night Demyx just rolled onto his side and fell asleep. He let it go a few nights, wondering if it were just a pain of readjustment, if he were just used to sleeping alone. Finally, he just got fed up and crawled over to spoon him, jerking him out of his sleep. “What are you--?”

“Trying to touch you?”

“Well could you please not?”

For a moment there was just silence.

Demyx exhaled heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I… I’m sorry for snapping. But I… I’m not comfortable .”

Ienzo swallowed and felt a lump in his throat. “Would you prefer I slept elsewhere?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.”

Ienzo eased back to his side of the bed. He knew he would not be able to sleep. As it was, he was struggling not to cry.

The next day they behaved as normally as they could in front of their daughter, but when Ansem came and asked if he could spend some time with her, Ienzo agreed before Demyx could get a word in edgewise. “We need to talk,” Ienzo said.

Demyx wrinkled his nose. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. We do.” Ienzo was surprised to feel his temper flare, but he kept it in check. “Look, we’re… we’re parents, and we’re soulmates . A lot has happened, and you have a right to feel the way you do. But that can’t begin to heal if we keep ignoring it.”

He seemed to not know what to say.

“How do you feel, Demyx?” Ienzo asked.

He rubbed at his arm. “I feel like… I feel…” He swallowed. “Something’s just wrong ? With me?”

“You’re processing.”

“Not that. I don’t know. For a long time I just missed you so much it hurt, and I didn’t know how I was going to do any of it, be her dad, or…” He trailed off, a flush darkening his face. “And then I saw you again, and you were alive, and I was so happy and so relieved and I don’t know what happened since then. Something’s wrong.”

A suspicion slid into place, and Ienzo’s voice shook when he asked, “wrong how ?”

Tears flooded his eyes. “I don��t feel anything. When I look at you. You’re the father of my child. But it’s just… I feel like… I was meant to be her dad, but… I don’t know if I’m meant to be with you?” His voice quivered and broke. “I want to. I want to be in love with you again. But I…”

“I think I understand,” Ienzo said woodenly.

Demyx hesitated. He stared at Ienzo for a moment, and then he took a few steps forward and kissed him, hard.

And it was different.

Physically, it felt the same, the way they moved together. But it was just a nice kiss, without the heavy reassurance that yes , this is part of you, everything is safe, everything is okay.

In his mind’s eye, Ienzo saw Xehanort gouging him below the heart. “Oh,” he said softly.

“What’s wrong with me, Ienzo? Am I just depressed?”

“No,” he said. Numbly, he pulled away.

“...What?”

And then he started laughing.

“ What ?”

Once he began, he couldn’t stop, until tears were running down his face, and he couldn’t breathe, and somewhere the gasps of laughter became sobs, and he was curled in a ball on the floor. He felt Demyx’s hand on his back, warm but the touch was so wrong .

“Ienzo. What is it?”

He looked up. “Xehanort broke the soulbound.”

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 24--Best Laid Plans

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and Xemnas go down to the lab.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

The lab was colder than Ienzo remembered.

How many hours had he spent here as a boy, perched on somebody’s knee or getting in the way? And even then, despite the fact that not much could be done with the architecture of the room, there were always books, and cups of tea, and laughing people to make the room feel less sterile.

It was cold--literally and figuratively--and empty, and silent other than the hum of the cooling fans, the ventilation.

“What is it you need?” Xemnas asked him.

Ienzo considered. He’d never done this without wires before, so it might be more complicated than he’d thought. “Watch the doors. Let me know if someone’s coming. I can’t keep up an illusion if I’m in there.”

It shouldn’t be easy to trust Xemnas, and to a degree it wasn’t--his heart was racing, and he hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before. The only piece of good news in all this, relatively speaking, was that he’d started his period. One less thing to worry about. The thought of it was at the forefront of his mind; not because it was necessarily worse than he remembered, but because the last time he’d done such work, he’d been pregnant.

Xemnas tapped in the password. “It’s DoorToDarkness, for future reference,” he told Ienzo.

He almost groaned. “You’re kidding.”

A smile. “My father is nothing if not literal.” He touched Ienzo’s shoulder. “What do you need from me?”

“Keep watch. If someone comes… wake me.” There was a chair nearby; Ienzo dragged it over. He held his hands over the keys and let the magic flow under his skin.

The sensation was not so overwhelming now that he was used to it, but to be on the other side was odd. He looked around, taking in shelves of books that served as a metaphor for files. Where to begin?

“Ienzo? Is that you?”

The relief he felt was immense. “Tron. Thank goodness.” It was dark here; he squinted.

“Oh, so good to know you’re okay. The…” He gestured to Ienzo’s stomach. “Everything’s… okay?”

“A little girl. Almost seven months old.”

“Oh, that’s good. That’s very good.”

There was something smooth about his tone. Something odd. Off-putting. “Come into the light?”

Tron did so. He still wore a neat suit, but it was different, flecked through with threads of red that looked more like cracks. His expression was pinched, pained, and he moved with difficulty. “Hello, user,” he said. “I’m afraid you are--unauthorized--”

“Tron?”

“Another user is--accessing critical data--” He twitched. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry.”

“Xemnas!” Ienzo screamed. “Wake me up! Wake me up now!” He hadn’t realized how dependent he’d become on Cid’s interfacing with him to get out . He tried to run from Tron, but with a glitch he was thrown against one of these shelves, a pair of hands around his throat.

“I’m--sorry--user--I’m--interfacing--accessing--memory--”

Ienzo struggled, feeling Tron flicking through his mind, but this body could not breathe . Had Xemnas betrayed him? Why was this happening? But why would Xemnas betray him if--

Amalia flickered in his mind’s eye. The image flickered… and held. Tron’s grip loosened around his throat, and he fell. “No. No. Please. No.”

“Terminal--upload--copying--fifty-four percent--”

Ienzo pushed Tron hard, but the program just slumped over. “Do you know what you just did?”

Suddenly, with force, he found himself back in his body, which was in the process of being thrown. Ienzo hit the wall hard. His ears were ringing, and his vision grew blurry. He thought maybe he’d broken a rib or two and gasped for breath. He saw a crumpled brown-and-silver mass near the computer--Xemnas--and a pair of black boots approaching him.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy, haven’t you, Ienzo?” Young Xehanort asked. “Both of you.”

“How did you--”

“A program is not a person. All you have to do is mess with them a little , and they’ll hand you everything you need to know on a plate.” He stepped on Ienzo’s chest, pressing hard. “So naturally, when you began to be friends with my brother, who has always suffered so dramatically from middle child syndrome… well, it was only a matter of time, right?”

“What will you do?” He had to gasp the words.

“Well, considering the wealth of information I just accessed… I have a lot of work to do. Wouldn’t you like to see your family, Ienzo?” He pressed harder, and Ienzo’s vision started to darker. “Wouldn’t you like to hold your little baby again? I can do all that and more. Yes. I think they’ll all be quite comfortable where we can see them.”

“Don’t hurt her--”

Hands snapped to his throat. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”

Darkness.

---

A cold, wet cloth was being pressed against his throat. Not hard, but enough to be disorienting. Ienzo gasped a little.

“Easy. Easy.” Xemnas’s voice. “You’re hurt. Don’t move.”

The air smelled musty, and his body felt wrong , his power dead, heavy. His chest ached tremendously, and so did his throat. He tried to swallow. His vision wouldn’t quite focus.

“Seems to me several ribs are broken, and you may have a concussion. You were also strangled until you lost consciousness.”

“Where--” He tried to ask, but all it sounded like was “wh”.

“We’re being kept in a cell in my brother’s lab. Fitting, is it not? Try not to speak. You may damage your vocal cords further.”

Ienzo tried to sit up, but the pain almost made him cry out. Xemnas eased him back down onto the small cot.

“Do you think you can drink some water? I’ve no idea if it will help, but--” Water running, a cold metal cup being brought to his lips. “At least we have this much.”

The cold water both hurt and felt good to get inside of him. “S...sorr…”

“There’s no way you could’ve anticipated this, Ienzo.”

“Tron… corru…”

“He was quite proud to tell me he’s been watching you for some time. I promise I had no idea.”

“My… my ba…”

“I do not know if my father pursued them. If they’re smart, they might be able to get away. But knowing him… the whole city watch, Heartless, would’ve found them with ease. I like to think my father would not kill an innocent child. Not if she might be of use.”

He felt a thick rush of tears, and the added swelling in his throat made him unable to breathe for a moment. Xemnas dampened the cloth around his throat again. “I’m trying to figure this out. Somehow. There are still people on our side. You must rest.”

“I can’t… My dau…” He coughed, so hard and for so long his vision went gray, between the broken ribs and the swelling in his throat. He tasted blood. Xemnas turned him so that he might spit it into the empty cup.

“...I just hope there’s no internal damage.”

There was the sound of muffled beeping, and a metal door sliding open. Ienzo was so dizzy, and nauseous; definitely concussed, he decided hazily.

“My father desires an audience.”

“Brother--”

“You are no brother of mine.”

“At least give the child a potion. He can barely breathe.”

“As if I would trust a single word that comes out of your filthy mouth. Come. Get up . I’ll drag you if I have to.”

Ienzo swallowed blood. “Hel… help…”

Xemnas eased him gently to his feet. The man flinched when he took Ienzo’s weight--he must’ve been injured somehow too--and when he set Ienzo on his own, his whole abdomen ached from the lack of support.

Young Xehanort grabbed his wrist roughly and towed him out of the cell. Every step, every breath , hurt, and he wasn’t completely convinced he would stay conscious. He tried to bear it, if so to beg for his daughter’s life, and in a strange fugue he found himself in the throne room.

“My dear prince. ” There was venom to his words now. “Well. I should’ve known better, shouldn’t I? You played your cards almost perfectly . Were it not for my son’s vigilance, you could’ve wrought a whole lot of havoc, couldn’t you?”

Ienzo’s vision was blurry. He took a few stumbling steps forward and knelt, despite the wave of agony it caused him. “F-forgive…”

“We’re beyond that, I think.”

“P-please don’t hu--” He spat up more blood. He heard a muffled scream to his right, and the sound was so familiar that fear washed through him. As slowly as he could without causing himself pain, Ienzo turned towards the source of the noise.

Demyx. Crumpled at the foot of Young Xehanort’s throne, his hands bound. Ienzo just barely saw Braig behind them, his expression stony.

Xehanort smiled. “I’m sure our guest needs no introduction. You have quite a close relationship, don’t you? It’s alright. Say hello. Go to him.”

Demyx dashed over to him. “Ienzo. Ienzo. You’re so--” He could do little more than dab the blood off of his face.

“Wh-when did he--”

“They got us last night. All of us. At once.”

“Whe--”

“She’s okay. She’s okay, Ienzo. He left her with Even.”

“...Enough chit chat, I think.”

Demyx knelt and helped Ienzo lean against him. He pressed Ienzo’s hand, very subtly, against his pocket. Ienzo could feel the outline of a knife. No doubt that in the panic of their capture Demyx had been too worried about the baby to use it. Ienzo tried to work it out with small twitches.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

There were Heartless guards, even if Braig decided to help them. Even if Xehanort truly was as frail as he looked--and Ienzo was sure he wasn’t--there was also the matter of his son, glowering behind him, his own power not to be underestimated. Ienzo was wounded, his power jammed, and potentially all Xehanort would have to do was whisper before his whole family was killed.

But what else could he do? He was found out. Surely that wouldn’t mean leniency. And honestly? He’d rather everyone be dead than forced into a life of suffering and servitude. The knife slid into his hand, and he forced it up his sleeve as Xehanort spoke.

“You’ve caused me an awful lot of trouble, with your antics,” Xehanort began. “So much so that I can’t even justify keeping you as a pet. You’ve made it personal, so I shall do the same in turn. Child?”

But he was not speaking to Ienzo--all of a sudden there was another muffled cry and Demyx was pulled away from him. Young Xehanort dragged him across the stone, and despite Demyx’s struggling, it was fruitless. He threw him down at his father’s feet.

“What do you want?” Ienzo forced out painfully. He glanced at Braig. Do something, he thought desperately.

“Ienzo, it is not nice to hurt people who have treated you well.” He grasped Demyx by the hair. “It’s a shame. You could’ve been useful to me too. Seeker blood. You must be close to the last of your kind, no?”

“Fuck you,” Demyx spat, and Xehanort kicked him hard in the groin. “I’ll kill you,” he continued. “I’ll ki--”

It happened so fast that Ienzo could barely see it; all he knew was that suddenly Demyx was bleeding heavily from a spot below his heart, curling and convulsing on the cold marble.

“Rather annoying, that one,” Young Xehanort said.

Xehanort came closer to him. “You see, Ienzo, you need motivation ,” he continued. “You agree to help me, truly help me, and I’ll heal him. I’ll heal you both. Your child, your filthy family , will be safe. There is no need for suffering. It is counterproductive to what I want. You could usher in a new era of knowledge, of equality .”

“D-don’t--” Demyx forced out. “Don’t--”

“Shut up, boy. Kingdom Hearts could be ours . Your power, our strength. Decide quickly, Ienzo. It seems you’re running out of time.”

The proper thing to do would be to submit. Agree absolutely, yes, just stop the bleeding. Try to con his way out of this. But seeing Demyx twitch on the ground drowned out all reason, and something snapped. Ienzo screamed. Heat bled out of him, forcing against the jam, shattering it, a wave of magic making his skin burn. The sight of Demyx’s blood only made the burn worse, scalding, needing to get near him to heal , his whole soul crying out in agony. Suddenly it became clear why it was called soul binding.

“I told you he would not see reason,” Young Xehanort spat. “Why do you keep going after and after what will never succumb to you?”

Ienzo reached for the knife. Xehanort grasped his face. “This pain will pass, boy. This world can be… great again. I can shepherd in an era of--”

“Like hell you will.” It took the rest of his physical strength, but Ienzo took the knife, and all of his power, and he forced it outward, the Heartless guards to shiver and collapse and he forced the metal up through flesh and bone-- Xehanort collapsed, and the blood ran hot against Ienzo, but he didn’t care. He saw Braig grasp at Young Xehanort’s head and slit his neck. He could barely feel his body in this strange maelstrom of pain and numbness. He dragged himself over to Demyx, who had gone pale and still. “No.” He slapped at his face. “No, no, no--”

“Zo,” he slurred.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” He held his hand over the wound and pulled. Healing Isa had been easy, with the magic from the birth, but he was fighting the jamming, and his own weakness, and he could not feel his own body, though somehow he felt like he was on fire --

Amalia needed Demyx.

The thought of her gave him enough strength to heal the wound--

“Zo?” Demyx’s voice was stronger now, and suddenly Ienzo was being the one cradled. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move --

“I killed him. They’re dead,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong--why are you--”

“Too much…” He heard more than felt his teeth chattering. “Too much magic--”

“How do I fix it?”

“Can’t.”

“What do you mean I can’t?”

“Can’t--”

Then, the sound of footsteps and another voice-- “Braig--? Ienzo? ”

“Even--how did you--you’re covered in blood--”

“Not mine--don’t worry about that--”

“Dad?” Ienzo forced out.

“Child…”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s in… shock. I need…”

For a long while, everything just stopped.

[aliceslantern]

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Chapter summary:  Ienzo tries to make humanity his new project, with limited success.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo tried to do as Even said. He took the pills--one in the morning, one at night. He set a timer and forced himself to eat every four hours, though he had little appetite. The weight he’d lost from his heavy magic use began to come back on. He no longer felt so dizzy or achy.

But the anti-anxiety medication made him feel a bit foggy, a bit dissociative. He passed the time reading about it. For the first time in months, Ienzo visited the library for the sake of fiction, and spent a pleasurable few days rereading an old childhood favorite.

He tried to write and reflect as to what this whole experience had taught him, but found himself staring at blank pages, blank screens. Was he not ready, to delve into this mess? Or did he have nothing of insight to say?

This abandoned, Ienzo went outside.

It was summer now, and very warm, the bright light a shock to his tender eyes. He suspected he was beginning to need glasses, no doubt an accumulation of years in front of pages and screens. He saw children playing in the streets, groups of friends, a young couple or two with their hands linked. Compared to the empty, massive castle, Radiant Garden felt full of life.

Nobody seemed to recognize him, and for this he was grateful. He kept walking, letting his mind wander, eavesdropping idly and taking in the colors and smells, all of it too much in a good way. He walked, he drifted. Without consciously realizing it, he’d brought himself to the cemetery.

It was well-kept, despite the obvious bits of destruction--broken memorial stones, the brick wall still a work in progress, grass growing over gouge marks from Heartless. For a second Ienzo struggled to remember where it was before sense memory kicked in.

There they were, side-by-side. The mortuary tablets were rather dirty. If he’d known, he would’ve brought supplies to clean. Disrespectful. He read his parents’ names, his own old surname before the adoption gave him Ansem’s. He whispered the name aloud, just to hear it. It was much softer sounding than Zexion. Light. Rhythmic.

The idea had originally been for his parents to be apprentices, not him. They were both scholars in their own right, his mother a botanist, his father a physicist. They’d hoped to be older before they had their first child, but these things happened, and they did so love Ienzo, as Ansem had told him. Noticing Ienzo’s brilliance… and hoping to grant his parents’ wishes… Ansem took him in and gave him an education. And the rest was history.

He knelt and bowed his head. He barely remembered either of these people, just flashes of joy and warmth and comfort; a pat on the head, hands tucking him in. He’d only been five when they passed, a freak accident, a fire. It hadn’t been the flames that killed them, but the smoke; only a well-placed wet cloth over his own nose and mouth had kept him alive until the fire brigade arrived.

Ienzo wished he didn’t remember this, but he did. The house had been built into a stone wall, and the internal structure collapsed, blocking the only real door. Father had tried his hardest to carve a way out, but he was a physically weak academic and the smoke got him, falling first to his knees. Mother had turned Ienzo’s face away, sang him a lullaby, curled him a bit more tightly in her arms--

What good was thinking about this?

What would they think of him now? If they knew what he’d do? Would Mother perhaps have held that cloth a little tighter, a little closer, until--

“Ienzo? What are you doing here?”

His head snapped up. He saw Dilan, in casual clothing, his eyes mottled and red. “I suppose… the same as you,” he said. He knew distantly that Dilan had lost a lover at some point; not through any conscious admittance by the man himself, but through drunken conversations Ienzo had eavesdropped on.

Dilan came closer and looked down at the memorials. “I… remember that day all too well,” he said, with a sigh. “Your parents weren’t the only ones who were lost in that fire. That part of town… the houses were too much on top of one another. You might consider yourself lucky.”

Ienzo laughed. “In a cosmic way, I suppose I am.”

Another pause. Then more cautiously, “she was a lovely woman, your mother. Very warm. I’ve hardly ever met a scientist who was so good-humored. I think in some lights you look like her.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Really?”

“Well, the premature gray is unmistakable. And here…” He gestured to his jaw.

Ienzo looked at his palms. “Is it bad that I scarcely remember what they looked like?” All of their possessions had been lost in the fire, including photos.

“Oh, there may be a picture or two hanging around--there would’ve been official portraits when they took on the apprenticeship,” Dilan explained, at his baffled expression. “Would you like that, if I were to find them?”

“I would--very much so.” It took him a moment to realize why Dilan was being so saccharine to him. It was compensation. Ienzo stood slowly, flinching at the ache in his knees.

“You were so very young,” Dilan said. “So small. I remember thinking that.”

“I suppose you dissented then, when Ansem took me in?”

“Of course I did. What a place to raise a child, after all. But we didn’t do much parenting of you, did we?”

“...Quite.” Ienzo did not want to get into another screaming match. He turned to leave.

“Are you feeling better? I heard you were rather ill.”

The meditative mood that had come over him upon entering this place was quickly shattered. “Yes, I am,” he said.

“I’m aware we’ve… scarcely spoken in some years.”

Ienzo thought about it. Even in those “halcyon” days, he’d never been close to Dilan. And further pulled away to different teams in the Organization. “No, I don’t suppose we have.” Then again, what was there to say?

“Do you enjoy being human?” Dilan asked, the same way an adult might awkwardly ask a child something.

Ienzo shook his head; not in response, but the inanity of the question. “I’m afraid the jury’s still out. Not that I have a choice, here.”

“You have choices,” Dilan said. “So many.”

“Is your life written in stone, then?” he asked, sourly.

“The others wish to atone and I wish to keep them safe while they do so,” Dilan said. “So yes, I suppose.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Safe from what? Heartless?”

“Those that may seek revenge,” Dilan said slowly.

Ienzo scoffed and turned away again.

“I am not being facetious.”

He shot him a look.

“We’ve wrought havoc on this town,” Dilan said. “The lives lost in our lab… people remember those loved ones, and miss them. Now it’s public knowledge we’re back… surely there may be more than some cruel words thrown at one on the street. People are armed to the teeth with all the Heartless.”

“Assassination would be too quick of a way to go,” Ienzo said simply. “More like they best let us fester in this guilt, if they wish for punishment.”

“Is that what you want? To be punished?”

Ienzo scowled. Twice was a coincidence; three times was a connection. Demyx, Even, now Dilan lecturing him about suffering. “Do I walk around with a boorish look on my face?”

Dilan raised an eyebrow. “I’ve noticed that as soon as your emotion reaches your face, you snap it back to neutral… put on a mask. Almost impressive, how quickly you can do it. Putting yourself aside… for whatever inane nonsense they subject you to. I’d hoped you would at least enjoy some pleasures of life, however small. Yet to not allow yourself to feel --”

“I feel ,” he spat. “entirely too much.” He was on the verge of adding, and you never allowed yourself to feel without a bottle in your hand , but didn’t.

“I suppose you must. The weight of emotion must be somewhat unbearable.”

“That,” he said, “is putting it mildly.”

Dilan considered. “Do you feel very bitter?”

This was very quickly becoming a confrontation, something Ienzo had no energy for. “Why is it you want to know?”

“Because if I were you, I would,” he said, with a shake of his head. “If I were you, after all you’d been put through, I’d leave that castle seething… and never come back. Why is it you stay?”

The last thing Ienzo expected him to say--he felt his eyebrows raise. “Well I’ve… work to do.”

“And the men you must work with?”

“Ansem has never wronged me. And Even and I are mending things. We’ve known one another for so long. I…” He trailed off uselessly, unable to identify the emotion now curdling within him. He squinted, trying to name it. It felt vaguely as though it were clamped to his thyroid. "I've no one else," he realized slowly, and it was a very, very cold revelation.

"...No," Dilan agreed. "Neither have I."

Ienzo swallowed. He was, again, teary. He'd never needed friends before, or people in general, content to squirrel himself away. But did he need people now? Really, truly?

If not for Demyx, for Even, it was very likely that his physical condition would have continued to deteriorate until he… what, died?

Quite possibly, yes.

Ienzo realized, so slowly, that he no longer desired death. Then what did he want?

What did he want?

A chance to set things right. But clearly so far what he'd been doing was… more or less an elegant form of slow-moving suicide. But what of his powers? Wasn't it worth it, to regain them? He felt more mixed up and confused than ever before. "Perhaps, then, we should try harder," he said slowly, and then left, lost in thought.

Ienzo didn't get far.

"Zo! You're up and about!"

He would be startled, but he wasn't. He seemed to perpetually run into Demyx lately. "Hello."

The other boy was flushed, grinning. There was a small harness over his shoulders, but devoid of packages. "How do you feel?"

"Quite a lot better," he admitted. "I must apologize to you. And thank you, for that matter."

He rubbed the back of his neck, but his expression was taut, tense. "I wouldn't just leave you there. I'm… good at delivering bodies. Right?"

Ienzo smiled a little. "That you are."

"So what happened?"

"In a word--overwork." He sighed. "Exhaustion, stress. It became too much for me. I've been… waylaid, until I recover, and find myself with far too much time on my hands."

He grinned. "Well. At least you're doing better. I'm done for a bit, so do you wanna get lunch?"

"...I could eat."

"Awesome. Let's go. You're going to love this place." His posture was different, and almost unconsciously now and again he would touch his back.

"Are you alright?" Ienzo asked, realizing the irony.

Demyx shrugged. "Real heavy stuff irritates my back. Old wound. You know?"

"...I guess business is going well?"

Demyx groaned. "Too well. I've barely had time to even… well, eat."

Ienzo wondered why Demyx didn't just shirk off. But he'd mentioned he'd like talking to people, and Kairi had said he was lonely. Perhaps delivering these packages gave him some much needed positive interaction--which he hardly ever received at the castle.

Demyx brought him over to a stand which seemed to be selling some kind of soup. The vendor greeted him by name. The smells were thick, delicious--scallions, spice, the salt of broth--and for the first time in months Ienzo felt hungry. "Who's your friend?" The woman asked.

Demyx clapped a hand on his shoulder. " This is my roomie Ienzo."

The touch was, again, disconcerting; he could almost feel the imprint of Demyx's hand, warm through the fabric. "Hello," he said.

The woman studied him. "That name is… familiar." She put out two servings of the meal, with chopsticks. "Wait. Aren't you--"

"...I was Ansem's ward," he admitted softly. "Ansem the Wise."

"...Yes," she said slowly. Then, to Demyx. "I thought you lived near the castle--not in it."

Demyx shrugged. "Same diff."

The woman studied Ienzo. There was something… careful, in her gaze. "It's a relief to know he's still alive. And you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. It is good to be back in town."

She accepted Demyx's money without comment and they took their bowls to a nearby table.

"Guess you're a celebrity," Demyx said, clicking his chopsticks.

"Well, I was the king’s son. But it was a blood monarchy--I am no prince.” He sighed. “I suppose they… have no knowledge of my involvement." He stared down into his bowl of noodles. He had no idea if it was relieving or not to escape blame. He began eating, found it was all very good, the flavors subtle and well-mingled. "I suppose you must eat around town, then?"

"Yeah. There's so much to try, and it's all pretty cheap."

"I can repay you when we get back--"

Demyx clacked the chopsticks. "No, Ienzo. It's fine. I'm not exactly struggling. Scrooge is a cheapskate, but he pays his employees well."

Ienzo wondered what he did do with his money.

"I mean, I give Ansem some money for the room, and I feed myself, but…" A sigh. "You're going to think this is dumb."

"I doubt that."

"I want a house. A home. Eventually."

He blinked. "That's not stupid."

Demyx shrugged. "A place I can be me… where I can't be bothered."

"Like the greenhouse."

He locked eyes with him. "Yes. Exactly."

Ienzo considered. He sipped his broth, which was slightly too warm in the summer heat but soothing in another way. "I wonder if I want the same," he said softly.

"It's part of growing up. Living on your own. Though you got a sweet deal. Can't say I blame you for sticking around."

"It's hardly sweet."

"Well, Ansem provides for your every whim. That's kind of sweet."

He had a point. "Maybe someday we'll be neighbors, and not merely roommates," he said.

Demyx smiled a little. "Could you imagine?"

Ienzo thought. "Actually, I can." He can imagine Demyx's future so clearly. Personable, talented. He'd do well for himself, Ienzo was sure. But his own future? Without research, who was he? "Query."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shoot."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

"What, in general?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

Demyx wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I'd mind hacking it at performing. And--" He leaned back a little, wincing as his body hit the chair. "I don't know. I'm kind of glad to see what life has for me, you know what I mean? Doing good things where I can. And…" A wry laugh. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend, if the right person came along. Someone to spend time with."

Ienzo felt the blood warm his face. He'd never considered… relationships, emotionally or physically. He wasn't sure he was capable. "I didn't realize you were a romantic."

"I think anyone can be," he said vaguely. "Yeah. It would be nice to mean something to someone… and get to love them in turn."

“Do you think we’re capable of love?”

Demyx flinched, his gaze becoming guarded. “Kind of rude of you to say that.”

Ienzo put a hand to his brow; it had been an honest question, not one meant to gut. “Forgive me--that was not what I meant. I meant it quite literally.”

Demyx considered. So strange, to see him actually think, and not just spit out the first thing his facade told him to. “I think so,” he said slowly. “I mean… people, right? One of the universal needs is to love and be loved--in any form. People need people. It’s pretty natural.”

“I’ve lived my life so isolated, hardly ever desiring company,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Perhaps that might be worth changing… seeing everything that we’ve seen.”

The guard relaxed just the slightest in his eyes. “Are you lonely?”

Ienzo blinked. There was hardly anything left of his soup, so no way to easily deflect. Had that been the deep emotion he’d felt earlier? “Quite possibly--though I’ve never consciously identified that feeling.” He didn’t know where to begin with people. How to engage, to talk to them, in a purely positive manner.

Demyx sighed. Then, “Well, why don’t we be friends, then?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So simply?”

He shrugged. “I mean it’s been fine the last few times we’ve talked, right? When you’re not… falling apart on me, I mean.”

Ienzo flushed. “I am a mess.”

“Well I am too.” He bit his lip. “So what do you say?”

Ienzo smiled; it felt odd. “Alright. Friends.”

Later that night he considered what Demyx had been talking about. Ienzo couldn’t help but be impressed with his ability to see beyond the current circumstances. Ienzo had once been a master tactician, but he’d always planned for the Organization’s longevity, not his own. Merely surviving had been good enough for Zexion. But his own life? Perhaps to plan for its longevity, treat it like a mission to be endured, a game to be won? But without concrete goals… he was floundering.

His new cause to care about needed to be his humanity. He did need friends, social outlets. He turned that conversation over and over in his mind. Was Ienzo capable of love? There were things he loved, certainly, books he’d read, food he’d eaten, the feel of sunlight. There were things he was passionate about--learning and research. But people ? Loving meant being vulnerable… and he was hardly even able to do that around himself , let alone someone else.

Not entirely true.

It was one thing to out and out cry around Even--the man had seen him far worse, especially as a child. But he’d broken down as well in front of Demyx, who he barely knew on a personal level despite their years of working together. To allow emotions into the forefront of his being… was daunting. Where to begin?

Maybe the library would have answers?

One of Ienzo’s specialties as a young apprentice had been psychology. Not necessarily a hard science, not like what the others subscribed to, but one could get an awful lot of insight to the heart through the mind. How could a heart’s desires be realized without thought? How else could a heart make a body feel ? He’d used this working of the inner mind to manipulate people, break them. He’d never used it to heal .

He pulled books on abnormal psychology, therapies. Very quickly he discovered that the ideal way to heal oneself using therapy would be to, well, go to a therapist. Doubtful there was one around here, and even if there were, how could Ienzo just go , given what he’d done to this town? He’d have to take matters into his own hands. Be his own sounding board. He wasn’t sure it was possible.

“Oh, Ienzo, I would’ve hoped you’d be out enjoying this lovely day.”

He started a little, almost dropping his volumes. “Master.”

Ansem cocked his head slightly. He’d shed the red stole and jacket--likely it was very warm in the computer room. Seeing him, too, without the frame of his coat was jarring. “Enough of this “Master” nonsense,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “I’m a king no longer, and I am your father. I insist you call me by my name.”

Ienzo blinked. “Are you quite sure?”

He gave him a look. “Why should you submit to me when we’re working together as equals? Besides… that choice was questionable enough when you were younger--though I’m sure hearing everyone else say it didn’t help.”

“Monkey see monkey do,” Ienzo muttered. “Alright. Ansem. ” The name felt weird in his mouth, halved.

Ansem chuckled. “Indeed. What is it you were reading about?”

Ienzo considered lying. But doubtless Even had told him everything, at least the physical side of it, used it as an excuse to yell at the man. “Abnormal psychology,” he admitted.

“Is that… relevant to current events?” Ansem asked, not without caution.

“Quite,” Ienzo said. He cleared his throat. “I am… very anxious, and struggling to learn to feel. Well, no. I do feel. It’s merely--”

“Unfamiliar and therefore difficult to internalize.”

“Yes.”

“I was told to… make my new devotion my humanity.” He sneered.

Ansem looked confused. “As though that’s a bad or shameful thing?”’

“Isn’t it? I can barely work anymore without completely falling apart.”

“Your body has changed radically--and the presence of a heart is doubtless a new variable to the experiment called “Ienzo.””

This made him laugh. “It does indeed feel like an experiment.”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself,” Ansem said. “You worked so hard to provide Roxas and Naminé with new bodies. You need time . Thankfully, we do not have the threat of Xehanort’s apocalypse looming over us. Radiant Garden is whole and you are well.”

“But Sora could be slipping away day by day--”

“He could be, but likely isn’t. You forget I in my own way spent time with that child.” He sighed. He’d told Ienzo the story about DiZ shortly after they’d been reunited. “He is nothing if not tenacious. Just as we are reaching for him--he is reaching for us.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Ansem squeezed his shoulder. “Have you a few moments? Perhaps we could get some ice cream?”

“Didn’t you come here for a reason?”

Ansem shrugged. “These things can wait,” he said. “Come along, then.”

[aliceslantern]

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 8

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and Demyx grow closer, and this has an unexpected effect on Ienzo's power.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

At least time with Demyx was forgiving. Time he didn't have to worry about anything other than being Ienzo. He listened to Demyx play sitar, a lulling song that threatened to ease him into sleep.

"You doing okay?"

"I'm enjoying your song," he said simply. "Do go on."

It shifted, becoming a little warmer, more whimsical, the tempo more upbeat, Ienzo thought he heard longing within it, desire. He exhaled slowly, his heart starting to catch. "You could have just asked, if you wanted to kiss me," he said dryly.

"I wanted to be romantic. Sue me."

He laughed a little. "It is nice, to be appreciated. Yes. Maybe I should make you work harder."

Demyx's smile was more of a smirk. He let the sitar fade and leaned over to kiss him.

It was fascinating, how quickly they'd become accustomed to one another. Demyx pulled his hands through Ienzo's hair. Ienzo moved closer. There was no space between them anymore, and the feeling of Demyx's strong, lean body had him again coming up on that point where feelings bled into each other. Ienzo gave permission to himself to stop thinking for a few moments, helped along greatly by the way Demyx kissed him, his tongue moving so nicely. Maybe he had done this before--or was simply talented. He responded eagerly, running his hands along Demyx's back, feeling at the smooth, wiry muscles. The want was back, and stronger. Maybe this time his body would actually let him enjoy things, rather than forcing him to a point of anxiety.

One way to find out.

Ienzo pulled away from the kiss and settled into Demyx's lap, not quite straddling him considering he was still sitting. "Is this alright?"

His face was flushed. "More than."

"Good. Do tell me--if it ever isn't."

"And you too." He kissed him again, more deeply than before, and Ienzo's heart was racing. He settled down against Demyx more comfortably, looping his arms around his shoulders. Demyx pulled away from the kiss and instead trailed down Ienzo's jaw and throat, a curiously electric sensation that he examined with interest. He could feel it happening again, his dick hardening, though it was less jarring now than before. It was hard to reciprocate like this. One of Demyx's hands reached up to the buttons at the top of Ienzo's shirt--

He jerked as though he'd been shocked.

"I'm sorry," Demyx said. "I'm so sorry."

The pleasure was rapidly giving way to an anxiety, but not overstimulation. "It's not that," he said slowly. "I… how to put this. I have a scar."

He cocked his head slightly. "I think we all do."

"The implications of it are rather gruesome. Not at all… attractive."

Demyx frowned. "I don't follow."

"From my Nobody's death," he said thickly. He took a deep breath. "Here. Let me--"

"You don't have to--"

"It'll happen sooner or later. Best now than then." His hands were shaking so hard he could barely undo the buttons. It was… odd, to slide off his shirt in front of another person. He felt exposed on multiple levels and couldn't meet Demyx's eyes.

"Oh," he said softly. "Oh, Ienzo."

"Believe it or not, this is better than it was," he said. "It was originally… much more bruised."

Demyx almost looked as if he would touch it. He looked more concerned than repulsed, which was surprising. "Can I ask--how?"

He nodded. "In Castle Oblivion… Axel had the Riku replica strangle me. The darkness… held me fast, and cut into me all around, like a noose." He shuddered.

Demyx touched his shoulder. "That's awful. Are you okay?"

"I do have… nightmares," he admitted. "And I cannot bear to be backed into corners."

He thought about this for a moment. "Can I touch it?" He asked.

Ienzo braced himself, and nodded. He thought the feeling of hands on his throat might be triggering, but Demyx avoided his windpipe, tracing the scar gently with his fingers. The scratch of his calluses against the hypersensitive skin chased away the rest of his fear. "That does feel nice," he said slowly. He swallowed and felt a lump in his throat. Why was he emotional?

"What about this?" He kissed it once, as though asking for permission, and when Ienzo didn't pull away, he kissed it again, and again.

Ienzo was surprised at the intensity of the sensation. He gasped out loud and felt tension blooming in his stomach. He pulled Demyx a little closer. To feel his hands on Ienzo's bare skin was so beautiful , and for the first time Ienzo was glad they were both here and human. He reached for the hem of Demyx's shirt and likewise felt him tense.

He laughed softly. "While we're trading stories." He slipped off the t-shirt and let it fall.

Ienzo felt more than a little concerned. Demyx had substantially more scarring along his chest than Ienzo did; some of it was old, thin and whitened, but some of it looked new, pink and rippled, particularly near his back, his ribs. "This is what bothers you when you work," Ienzo said. "Is this from--?"

"Golden boy Sora?" He grimaced. "Yeah. It wasn't fun. But the rest… must have come from the time before."

"The trauma you were afraid of," Ienzo realized. "Oh…"

"Not exactly fun and flirty," Demyx said. His eyes were watering, and he blinked hard.

Ienzo touched his face. "This doesn't change how I feel," he said. "If anything…" Being this vulnerable was freeing. "You're so strong."

"Hardly."

" Really ," Ienzo said.

"You're gonna make me cry, Zo."

"What if I did this?" He kissed the scars at his shoulders, for a moment in awe that skin, too, had its own taste. Demyx exhaled, a short, sharp sound.

“That’s good,” he said breathily.

Ienzo kept exploring him. He hadn’t necessarily meant for things to get so hot and heavy, but he found he didn’t mind. He waited for his body to tell him to stop. Perhaps he was used to this feeling of touch by now. They eased down so gently onto the floor, which made it easier to reach the scars lower down. A small sound caught in Demyx’s throat. Knowing he could make someone else feel this good was in itself a reward.

“Zo?”

He looked up.

“You’re kind of--leaning really hard on me.”

He was right; Ienzo wasn’t only letting him take most of his weight, but was also, well, grinding against him. “I suppose there’s more etiquette to this than it seems,” he said breathlessly.

Demyx laughed. “It’s okay. It’s just that the, uh, zipper is kind rubbing right against--”

“...That does not sound pleasant,” he agreed, a flush of embarrassment rising in his face. There was a tick of silence which was more awkward than the last. “Would it help if I took your pants off? Or…” He swallowed. “Is that going too far?”

He touched Ienzo’s face. “You can take them off.”

His heart skipped again. “Okay.” It was clear something more than a kiss was about to happen here. But what? And why did he feel unprepared? It wasn’t as though Demyx wasn’t in the same situation as him in terms of experience. Ienzo’s hands trembled as he struggled to undo the button, the fly. More than a little awkward, to try and ease out of these clothes the way they were positioned. His own slacks, too, seemed much more complicated than normal, and the socks, too. No romance novel he could recall ever mentioned anyone removing socks. Undressing was always made to seem sexy , but it just felt like a chore in actuality. He settled back down against him, remembering to take his weight onto his elbows.

Feeling Demyx’s body so fully against Ienzo’s almost made him feel as though he might combust. He could feel Demyx’s dick through the thin fabric of their underwear, right up against his own, and for a few minutes they just kissed and moved against one another, like tides. Ienzo was getting more insight than ever as to why people bonded so strongly; all of these sensations so lush, and freeing, his body suddenly much more than something dreadingly carried around and taken care of.

He wanted whatever came next. Badly. Demyx kissed his throat, his chest, pulling him still closer until they felt vaguely fused. “Demyx?”

He barely looked up from what he was doing. “What?”

“Can we go further?”

So slowly, he made eye contact.

“Not… not the whole thing. But maybe…”

“Touching?” Demyx offered.

Ienzo nodded. “Would you want that?”

“God, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Are you… ready for that?”

“I don’t feel that same  dreadful overstimulation. Not yet.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Demyx kissed him on the mouth, then let go of him as they struggled to remove underwear. The lantern light was dim, but being able to see him fully evoked an emotion that threatened to choke him. “Look at you,” Demyx said softly, running a finger down along Ienzo’s chest.

“I could… say the same.” He’d never been naked in front of someone else--that he could recall, anyway. The sense of exposure, of vulnerability, only tightened the emotion. It was not time to cry. His hands trembled as he touched Demyx's thighs, so slowly gathering the nerve to bring his hand up and touch his dick. The skin was warm, feverish. Demyx moaned a little, a sound that raised the fine hairs on his arms. Ienzo wasn’t quite sure how to do it; his own personal attempts had never been successful. “Like this?”

“More towards the--here.” He adjusted Ienzo’s hand. “See how this feels?” He reached down to take Ienzo’s own dick into his hand, and for a moment the shock of being touched was all he could comprehend, but then he began to notice the subtleties, his palm against the tip of it. Ienzo tried to copy that.

“So you’ve done this before?”

“...To myself.”

Not surprising; it was a normal thing to do. He turned his focus back to his body, on the slow, complex tension building inside of him. It was almost sweet. Already he could feel the urgency of it rising. He’d never consciously felt this way. He pressed a bit harder against Demyx’s palm. He wanted to know everything. This was all so interesting, the way his body felt, and how gratifying it was to also please someone else. Ienzo kissed him softly.

The outside world slid out of focus, and the anxious noise in his mind quieted. This felt almost better than the hand along his dick. Demyx’s other hand tangled in his hair, making Ienzo shiver. To simply be and take this all in made him feel so… human.

The rising sensation was growing tighter, taughter, and needier. He could hear himself gasping.

“Are you close?” Demyx asked breathlessly.

“I think--I’m not entirely sure--”

He was being kissed. There was just silence and, oddly, a sort of peace. Ienzo felt it break over him, a smooth sort of shock, warm and strangely recognizable as the pale shadow that he’d felt during those dreams. He heard a small sound catch in his throat.

So. This was what all the fuss was about.

It did feel so lovely. So natural. The second he had enough control of himself he tightened his grip on Demyx, though it only took another moment or so before he, too, finished, muffling the noise he made against Ienzo’s shoulder.

For a moment all Ienzo could do was lay against him, despite mess. They both tried to gather themselves. He felt tears in his eyes, but was too tired to fight them. It had been a long while since he’d felt cared for. He’d never thought Demyx could be so… gentle, or tender. Ienzo felt as though steel wire had been taken to his heart, scrubbed it raw. At the same time, the sensation was not unpleasant.

“Are you okay?” Demyx asked.

He sniffled. “I’m fine.” The first time in a long while it wasn’t a lie.

Demyx brushed the tear away with one finger. “I know some people don’t, like, believe in virginity,” he said softly.

“I’m one of them, yes. It’s a social construct.”

“...Even so. A first time with someone… isn’t something to treat lightly.” His own voice was scratchy.

“I agree wholeheartedly.” There was no way this was merely physical. He realized he trusted Demyx; how else had he been so physically vulnerable? Was it possible there was more here than desire, than friendship?

Did he want that? Did he need that?

In the moment, and perhaps under the influence of the orgasm, the answer was yes .

Demyx stroked his hair. “So this was fun.”

He laughed a little. “I’m definitely willing to explore this with you.”

---

It gave Ienzo something to look forward to. At least with the possibility of release, his hormones were no longer so all-consuming. That sense of comfort, of calm, he felt when they were together was almost addicting.

And, considering the frustration of his work… it kept him sane.

Straightforward research continued to yield nothing. Ansem programmed and ran simulations, but again, all was fruitless, and tensions in that room became higher and higher--

"How many times do I have to tell you that we can prove nothing with your silly data? All these computer programs are mere frippery--" Even, his voice high and stressed.

Ansem never raised his voice, but the tone was very taught. "Such "frippery" kept Sora alive during his year of sleep. Such "frippery" might have the keys to the past, and the future. Forgive me, Even, but I don't see you coming up with any earth shattering ideas--"

"Better than toying around with video games--"

" Enough ," Ienzo snapped. "I've had it up to here with all of your arguing." The heat of the room didn't help; he could feel himself sweating under the heavy white cotton. "We're not going to make progress until you two hash it out." He crossed his arms. "Will you just talk to each other like adults? Scream at each other, fight, I don't care. I'm just sick of the wittering."

They both seemed startled by his outburst.

"Will you talk? Or what?"

Even dropped his eyes. "Where to begin," he said, almost wistfully.

"Quite," Ansem agreed. "I suppose things are neither easily forgotten nor easily forgiven." A sigh. "Ienzo's right. We cannot work well together if we cannot behave. Come, Even. I believe there's much to work through."

" Thank you," Ienzo said sourly.

Well. If they were gone.

He shed his lab coat. The AC was struggling to keep up with both the summer heat and the functioning of the CPU. Ienzo put it into sleep mode and approached Kairi. "Sorry about that," he said gently. He dragged a chair over to hers, sat, and took her hand.

His powers were stronger. Immediately and noticeably. Kairi's light latched onto him, warm and bolstering. He could see more of her memory now; running from the Organization with Naminé, walking home from school with Selphie. Her truncated months of Keyblade training, grueling but empowering to finally be able to do something. Tentative friendship with Lea.

Then, more painfully, through a veil, almost--hours in the Secret Place with Sora (Ienzo, tactfully, chose not to listen in), their separation and the fall of Destiny Islands, seeing Sora's body dissolve into light to release her heart--

Kairi took a sharp breath, her face crumpling, though she remained unconscious. Ienzo realized this process was as physically difficult for her as it was for him. I'm sorry, he thought, and let go of her hand.

When he stood, he was dizzy. Why was his power stronger? He wasn't about to complain, but there had to be a reason.

He'd embraced his humanity.

He'd stopped fighting it. Let it all in. Let himself be vulnerable, if so for a few moments. Sora's bond with Kairi, though chaster and more childish, was in essence the same as his with Demyx; it had given them the power to overcome the impossible.

The irony--embracing humanity giving him his Nobody abilities. No; much like Sora and Kairi's love gave them power to do something taboo, Ienzo's bond with Demyx would do the same. This would have a price--perhaps not as drastic or dramatic, but all the same.

Ienzo looked at his palms. The guilt was still there, thick and heady. All the people he'd indirectly killed--the least he could do was give the world its defender back.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond This Existence, chapter 18

Summary:  After Xehanort's death, Demyx finds himself unexpectedly human in Radiant Garden. With nothing but fragments of his past and a cryptic statement from Xemnas, he's left to figure out who he is. When Ienzo asks for his help with a project, the two find common ground, but the trauma and secrets in both of their pasts could tear it apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post-KH3 canon compliant Read it on FF.net/on AO3

-----

The weeks wore on, one into the other. Coping with the mass amounts of chaos in his memory never became easier, but at least it was bearable now that he was no longer so alone. Demyx’s days took on a quiet sort of comfort. Studying, songwriting, socializing, and yes, therapy. Telling someone else these things was hard, but keeping it to himself was even harder. Similarly, listening to Ienzo’s own stories was no cakewalk. Their lives had been infinitely complicated and troubling.

With all this behind them, there was a start of a real sort of life, not the odd buffering phase of the previous few months. The castle was no longer so dreadfully uncomfortable, conversations between Demyx and the others no longer so stilted. He was starting to develop real friendships with these people. Oddly enough, Demyx found that aside from Ienzo, he was closest to Even. He’d taken an interest in healing theory as well, though more as a pet fascination than a vocation. Every now and again, Even gave him tests. It was his own way of reaching out.

“... How’d I do?” Demyx asked. He hadn’t had much written education of any kind, but at least the tests were something concrete to work toward. More structured than Aerith’s “give me a call when you finish the book” method of teaching.

“In all? Not bad.” Even passed the papers back. “Chemistry is your worst subject. But you knew that.”

“It’s the math.” Demyx skimmed the results and found that, overall, he’d done better than he’d thought. “I just can’t understand it.”

“Well--when it comes to calculating molarity--it’s typically just memorization of the base compounds.”

“And algebra.”

“For some reason I highly doubt you’ll have to deal much with kinesthetics in your everyday work. And if you do I’m a phone call away. I rather enjoy figuring it out.” He started shuffling through the sea of papers on his desk. “It gives me something to break the endless tedium of my days, anyway.”

“You’re not going to work on the Replica Program anymore?”

Even drew the hair out of his face. “On one hand, I believe that project has reached its peak. The replicas have gotten to a point where they’ve developed their own personhood, and their own hearts. That was the goal, to a degree. I’m of course going to study them as they age to see if they live out the same lives as ordinary humans. On the other…” He waved his wrist, as though dismissively. “What right have I to create new life? Now that I am becoming human, I feel more responsibility towards the way these replicas are treated. It’s as if I were to give birth. I suppose there might be a medical application to the creation of vessels--say, if someone were to be seriously injured or lose all neurological function--but again, what right have I to continue to meddle with such forces?”

“I can’t help you with that one,” Demyx said.

“No, it’s something for me to puzzle over. In the meantime, I’m going to continue to reflect on the ongoing intersection between magic and science within my life. It seems… most apt.”

“Why did you become a scientist?”

“Hm?” The question seemed to throw him off-guard.

“You’ve been with Ansem longer than anyone else. Why’d you do it?”

Even thought about it. “Why is it you play sitar?”

Demyx shrugged. “It’s just part of me. Always has been. If it hadn’t been sitar it probably would have been some other instrument. That one just happened to be given to me first.”

“Precisely. It’s part of your core, perhaps for no real reason. Or many real reasons, if you subscribe to fate or a divine. That is how I feel about my research. I could not separate the essence that is “me” from it. This is merely another phase of my life, and so I need to adjust my work accordingly.”

“To what?”

“Something that I hope is meaningful. I do not yet know what exactly.” He smiled. “Learning to change and grow after nearly twelve years of stagnation is taking most of my concentration.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” he mumbled, more to himself than Even.

“Incredibly.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll quiz you on the next three chapters next week.”

Demyx sighed. “No problem.”

----

Demyx was headlong into these chapters when Ienzo found him. With half his mind he was trying to figure out how to make the song he played better, the other half trying to puzzle out the complicated terminology. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings.

“How is it going?” Ienzo asked.

Demyx jumped, a discordant note throwing him off the melody.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Demyx let Arpeggio disappear. “It helps me remember, if I play,” he said. “Otherwise I can’t focus. If I read a chapter enough while playing a certain song, it sticks. I tried it the other way.  I don’t know how you guys learn stuff.”

“Everyone studies differently,” Ienzo said. “So you’re really going to do it?”

“That’s the plan,” he said. “She told me to read these before I came to her for the practical stuff.” Demyx shifted the books around.

Ienzo kissed him lightly.

“So what’s going on with you? I figured you were working on something, but I don’t know what.”

“Well, actually, that’s kind of why I came to find you.”

“The score? Ienzo, you realize I can just read it to you, right?” He hadn’t yet looked back at it. In a way, he wasn’t ready, even though he knew what the contents were.

He shook his head. “Not that. Though I would like to know what’s in it, if you’re not afraid to share. No.” He took the lexicon out from under his arm. “I’m afraid there’s something only you can help me with.”

He smirked. “What was it you said? “If you want to be alone with me you need only ask?””

“What? Do I really speak like that? Never mind-- no, this is something else.” Ienzo sighed. His cheeks were pink. “I want to go to the basement.”

Demyx bit his lip. He’d had a feeling this was coming. Ienzo had been making leaps and bounds dealing with his guilt. No doubt he wanted to make true peace with it. “Okay. Two things. First, not a great idea, all things considering. Second, why me? Why not Ansem or Even or someone else who was involved in the experiments?”

“You’ve got a weapon.” Very matter-of-fact.

He felt the blood drain from his face.  “So--let me get this straight. You want to go to the basement--where it’s crawling with Heartless and god-knows-what-else, not to mention where you’ve seen enough horror to go gray prematurely--”

“I haven’t gone gray. This is my natural hair color.”

“Babe, the last time you remembered something half as horrible you went kinda ballistic. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’ve healed since then,” he said. “I have this--” he held out the lexicon, “whatever it means. I think the only way I can find peace is by helping them. Talking with them. Maybe I can help them find some little bit of dignity.”

Demyx exhaled, exasperated. “And do you really trust me to defend you? I’m out of shape, and I have no idea how strong the Heartless down there even are.”

He frowned. “What is this really about?” Ienzo asked. “Are you truly afraid of a few Heartless?”

Demyx didn’t know what to say, just that his gut was telling him this was an awful idea. “I guess not,” he said. “I just… I’m afraid that going down there and seeing all that will change how I see you. And I don’t want that to happen.”

Ienzo took his hands.  “I know that. And it might change your mind. But I… I need to do this. I hope you understand.”

Demyx knew what had happened in the basement. Maybe he didn’t know all the details--the how or why of it all--but he knew Ienzo had been involved in this dangerous human experimentation. He knew, factually, that Ienzo couldn’t really be at fault, that he’d been a child and too young to accept responsibility, especially since he'd been so manipulated. But at the same time, Demyx knew seeing all of it would be a different story. It would make it tangible. And yet. “You’d do the same for me. Alright. Let’s free some ghosts, or whatever.”

Ienzo kissed him. “I love you.”

“I can’t say  no to you. But you knew that.” He marked the place in his book and set it aside. “I’d feel better if we got some supplies. And if you rested. You look exhausted.”

“So tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

----

Later that night, while Ienzo read in bed, Demyx headed down to Even’s quarters. Slick, hot anxiety was building inside of him, making him vaguely anxious. He knocked, was let in. Even was folding laundry. “Did you need help with something?” he asked. Then frowned. “You do not look well.”

Demyx didn’t know what to say. “Ienzo wants to go to the basement.”

He paused just the slightest. “Yes. And?”

“Well--what if something’s down there?”

“I thought you could adequately defend yourself now?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” He exhaled and pulled his hand through his hair. “He’s got the lexicon. What if he tries using his powers again?”

Even shook his head. “He’s aware of the risk. I doubt he’d try.”

“What if he doesn’t do it consciously?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I had the impression it took a lot of effort for him to traverse your memory.”

“But he couldn’t control it. I don’t know what this is going to entail. If I’m just going to beat up some Heartless, or maybe there’s nothing down there and this is just for closure. But what if.”

“Since when was forethought a strength of yours?” Even asked, almost bitterly. “Boy, now you’re making me worry.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

Even sighed. He set aside the socks he was folding. “Come along.”

They went down to his lab. Even pulled out a first aid kit, some ethers, and some potions. He approached another cabinet and took out a vial and a syringe still in its wrapping. He placed them on the table.

“You’re aware of the correlation at this point, of heart failure and overuse of power.”

“Well--yes.” The sight of the medicine made him shiver.

“I’ve been poking through our research. The reason why it struck Ienzo so intensely has largely to do with the fact that he quite literally grew up as a Nobody. Trying to adequately corroborate his humanity with a Nobody will served to heighten the risk. It may not happen again. Perhaps he’s adjusted. At the same time… it may.”

“What’s that?”

“A serum to induce sleep. Should he begin to exhibit the same symptoms, you should dose him. And then call for help. I’m giving this to you as a precaution only.” Even unwrapped the syringe, prepped it, and then capped it off. Demyx caught sight of the label on the bottle. He knew enough by now to recognize it.

“That’s a poison. Not a sedative.”

“Sleep akin to death,” Even said, as though quoting. “Better than actual death, is it not?” He held it out. Demyx didn’t take it.

“I can’t.”

“You must. This is--” He exhaled. “For goodness sakes, you might not even need it.” Even placed it on the table in front of him. “Have you tried convincing him out of it?”

“Yes. But how can we escape it? We live here. He’s reminded of it every day. If it’s not now, it’d be some other time.”

“The boy is… determined.” He sighed. “I’m trusting you with this. With him. Do you understand?”

Demyx nodded.

“So take it.”

He took all the medicine back with him, feeling sick. He hid the syringe in the first aid kit and tried to pretend it wasn’t there.

Ienzo was still caught up in his book. “Did you get everything you needed?” he asked.

“Oh, plenty,” he said breezily. “How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly, not as anxious as I thought.” He shut the book and settled down in bed.

“Can I… stay with you tonight?”

Ienzo frowned. “Of course.” He lifted the covers and let Demyx crawl in. He drew Ienzo close, breathed in his smell. “I’m not sure why you felt like you had to ask. You scarcely sleep in your own bed anymore.”

“Dunno. I figured you might want some time alone.”

“I have spent a lot of time thinking about this alone. I don’t mind the company.”

Demyx looked at him. His eyes bright and alive. He kissed him once. Ienzo settled down against him and was asleep before long.

Demyx did not sleep a wink.

----

Morning. Breakfast. He bathed, feeling vaguely numb and dissociated, slightly outside of himself. When he saw Ienzo in his apprentice’s coat, he almost wondered if this was a bizarre dream. He gathered up their bag of supplies.

“You sure you want to do this?” Demyx asked.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

He sighed. “Lead the way, then.”

He followed him through the corridors, through the familiar, then down dozens and dozens of stairs to a locked door. The air down here was cold, and it smelled dank and musty. Crystal sconces lit everything brightly, but at the same time he felt as though he was squinting in the gloom. At the door, Ienzo hesitated.

“Did you forget the code?” Demyx asked.

Ienzo summoned the lexicon. The soft rustle of its pages barely broke the suffocating silence. Demyx felt his heart in his throat. This was not a good sign. Ienzo meant business. Demyx tried to tell him then what might happen. But he had to know. There was no way he couldn't, right?

He punched in the code, and in they went.

It did not look dissimilar to the containment cells of the Castle that Never Was. Gray floor. Black and silver doors. Stark, harsh fluorescent light. A couple of these spaces were offices, and what looked to be a small lab. Papers were everywhere, all over the floors. Beakers had been smashed, a computer screen cracked. Ienzo took it all in with little emotion.

The smoky, musty smell only ever got stronger. “They smell us,” Demyx said. He brought an arm up in front of Ienzo automatically. He pushed it away.

“Not yet.”

They moved forward bit by bit. Ienzo absently touched the numbers on the cells, peeking inside here or there. Demyx didn’t see anything, but he could taste it. The cells were riddled with scratch marks, places where the floor had been gouged away. A sink bad been torn out of the wall. A mattress ripped to shreds.

“There’s no one here,” Demyx said.

“Don’t speak so soon,” Ienzo said.

A silhouette of pure darkness crawled out of the ground. It looked weirdly human in shape, more like a Novashadow than the little Shadows he was used to. It did not give chase, but seemed to merely watch them.

Darkness began to slither out of the back cells, forming yet more Shadows. “Freaky,” he hissed. The Keyblade snapped into his palm. One rose out of the pool and shuffled towards them. “Stay behind me.”

“Not yet,” Ienzo said. He crouched down, and Demyx almost screamed, but the darkness on the floor didn’t crawl over him like it normally would’ve. “Do you remember me?”

Was he talking to the Heartless? It paused, tilted its head.

“I was little then,” Ienzo said. “Not anymore.”

The Shadow twitched and shuddered. A few more peeked out. “What are you doing?” Demyx asked.

“Giving it the Sora treatment.” He exhaled. “Put that away. We’re not here to hurt you all. Isn’t that right?”

The blade in his hand trembled a little.

“Demyx?” Ienzo prompted.

He let it disappear. Raised his hands, as if to show how empty they were.

Ienzo smiled kindly at the Heartless. “You’ve been here for such a long time, so alone.” The lexicon opened to a random page, of a little girl. “Isn’t that right, Jamie? That’s you, right?” He held the book out to the Heartless. It seemed to stare at the page within, of the photo. “I wanted to apologize for all we put you through. There was a bad, bad man. He made all the people around him sick with evil. And they took it out on you. On me, too. And my friend next to me. That doesn’t make it right, but the bad man’s gone and everyone wants to help you.”

The Heartless seemed to convulse.

“I can’t imagine it’s fun down here. There’s nobody and nothing to play with. But there’s another place with lots of friends waiting for you.”

The Shadow raised a claw.

“Ienzo,” Demyx hissed. Ienzo held out his hand.

The Shadow placed its claw on the photo of the girl. It was not twitching anymore, not in the way Heartless usually did.

“Do it now,” he whispered. “She’s ready.”

He slashed. The Heartless had no defense; it was almost made of smoke. Its heart rose and vanished into nothing. Demyx was shaking. “Oh my god,” he said. “Are you… are you okay? I should’ve given you my coat.” He gave him a good once-over. No threads of darkness, no injury.

“I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

“How many are there?”

“Left? I’m not sure. But these aren’t ordinary Heartless. This was the genesis.”

The Heartless, having seen all this, did not flee the way they were akin to when their brethren died. They came forward in a lump. They did not attack. They left plenty of space between them and Ienzo.

“They’re making a line,” Demyx said.

“They want to be free.” He smiled. His eyes were watering. “Who wants to know who they are?”

It took hours.

Ienzo gave nearly every Heartless the same speech, but he altered it slightly, peppering in details he must have read somewhere--information about a beloved pet, a favorite color, updates about loved ones who were still alive. Humanizing them. It was only once this semblance of humanity was found that they could go. Peacefully.

Even though the Heartless were weak, the fact that there was so many of them and that this was stressful to watch tired him. He waited for one to break rank, to attack and injure. None did, though.

“Are you alright?” Ienzo asked. Demyx had been standing to his right and noticed his full face for the first time in hours. He was sweating, his complexion washed out. Demyx swallowed. No.

“Just a bit out of shape,” he said breezily. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.”

More speeches. More Heartless. Demyx was wondering if it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, or if Ienzo was looking worse. Pale. Shaky. No blood yet. But soon? The darkness was getting thinner and thinner until there were no more Heartless waiting.

“Is that it?” Demyx asked hoarsely. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Yes, that was--” He calculated quickly, then furrowed his brows.  “Ninety-nine. There’s one left. Maybe it’s hiding? Can you handle one more?”

“I think. You?”

He nodded. When he stood, his knees shook, and Demyx helped him up. He was getting weak. They had to get out of here, to get medical help. Demyx tried to covertly steer him in the opposite direction. “Why did they forgive me?” Ienzo asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The bitterness… they just let it go. Without fail. There was not even one rogue Shadow that tried to attack.” His eyes were wide.

“They’ve been here ten years,” Demyx said. “That’s a long time to suffer. Sometimes you have to let it go to make the pain stop.”

He looked at his trembling palm. “I see. I… understand.”

Demyx glanced over his shoulder. “I think we’ve found our stowaway.”

It was the humanoid Heartless, the first one they’d seen. They approached it slowly.

“We’re here to help,” Demyx said. “Do you want to go be with your friends?”

The Heartless paused. It twitched irritably.

“Ienzo,” Demyx said nervously. “Maybe start working your magic, yeah? My buddy here seems a little agitated.” He was positive that it was stronger than the last. Strength sapped, Demyx didn’t know if he could honestly take it on.

A hint of panic crept into Ienzo’s voice. “I can’t--” He started manually shuffling the pages. “I can’t find their--”

The Neoshadow hissed. Demyx drew his Keyblade. “Come on. Let’s talk this out,” he said. “I’m offering you a get-out-of-jail free card here, friend.”

Once it lay eyes in the Keyblade, the Heartless screamed. The sound almost incapacitated him, harsh, like razors against his eardrums. It leapt at him.

Demyx found himself awash in darkness.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 11-Revision

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Revision.”  While getting his help with the memorial project, Ienzo has a troubling conversation with Dilan.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

“Thank you for finding the time to look this over for me.”

Dilan took the roll of plans from Ienzo. “Of course. I’m glad to do it.” He settled down at the work table across from Ienzo. “I best use these skills before I lose them.” He gently unfurled the prints, taking in Ienzo’s handiwork with an unreadable expression. Ienzo kept his face angled towards his book, but peeked up at Dilan through his bangs.

There was still a seed of awkwardness between himself and Dilan. Even in the past they had never been very close, and as Nobodies their personalities had utterly repelled. Dilan was not the only one who could help him, but Ienzo figured it would be something of an olive branch.

A small smile played on Dilan’s lips. “You could draft much more neatly on the computer, you know,” he said. “Rather than physically manipulating all this paper.”

“I’m aware of that. Though for some reason I feel a strange aversion to it.”

“Your funeral.” Dilan flicked through the plans, circling things here and there and making notes in pencil. “This irrigation and drainage situation confuses me. I understand the… symbolism, of it, but we must also consider the practicalities. I’ll look into that for you. Perhaps there’s something that can be salvaged.”

“I appreciate it greatly.” Ienzo glanced down at the text and tried to read. His vision was starting to worsen; he wasn’t sure if it had something to do with the loss of his powers, an accumulation of a dozen years in front of books and screens, or if it were simply his natural state. It was hard to absorb the words. His heart was beating too quickly; Dilan was the first person who had laid eyes on the plans, aside from Demyx, and he was much more objective. He had to wonder if he was doing the right thing.

“Ienzo?”

“Yes?”

There was something cynical in his wide violet eyes. “I think in practice the design will be quite lovely. Most of the changes are more logistical, and something I’ll have to take a look at. An environmental study, if you will.”

“...Of course.”

“But there is one thing that causes me some concern.”

Ienzo looked up. Dilan smoothed one of his plaits back from where it had come loose.

“In this… history, do you plan on publishing our names?”

He frowned. “Well… it’s a matter of public record. Isn’t it? People remember Ansem the Wise, they remember us as the ones who did these experiments.”

Dilan crossed his arms. “I merely wish to not make your life more difficult than it already is.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Then I’ll put it simply. Go public in this way, and you may face more blame than you can take.”

It took Ienzo a moment to fully process what Dilan was implying. “I’ve had my guilt--twelve years’ of it,” he said. “This gesture… is to help us all grieve. Not just us, but those who lost their loved ones. Have you faced a level of scrutiny that I have not?”

“Not to my knowledge--but people are fickle.” Dilan pursed his lips. “I’d hate to cause trouble when we cannot… slip free, so to speak.”

“If anything, this is the opposite of trouble. I do not believe that we will face undue hardship--these people have suffered so, why should they suffer more bringing us to supposed justice? Even if that were the case, wouldn’t we deserve it?” A heat rose behind his cheeks. “In fact, we should consider ourselves lucky that there is no real, consistent legal system yet in place. And that the committee considers us allies.” Ienzo clutched his hands together, tightly. “If I may ask. Don’t you feel guilty, Dilan?”

He grit his teeth. “I am not heartless,” he said slowly. “Nor do I have the excuse of being a child at the time of the atrocities.”

It was becoming clear. “Dilan, I’m afraid that in order to move on we have to accept what we did, and feel that pain and that remorse. I tried defending myself from it--and I almost was destroyed in the process.” Thinking of those endless, sleepless, wrenching weeks when he sought to help Sora made him feel sick.

To his surprise, Dilan chuckled a bit darkly. “I’m not afraid of pain,” he said. “Nor am I afraid of consequence. I will accept my fate and be pleased it is not worse. No. I suppose if anything I am afraid of the hypotheticals we were willing to explore.”

Ienzo swallowed. He had a feeling he knew where Dilan was going with this. “We needn’t discuss this,” he said softly.

“This is part of it, Ienzo.”

A cloud passed over the sun, dulling the bright light that previously filled the library’s alcove.

“Those… children we brought in,” Dilan said. “Did you ever think that we might make you one of them?”

“My memory has become… hazier.” He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment. “I recall, however, you and Even arguing that I might… consent to something, or another.”

“That is correct.”

He took a deep breath. “If you all had not willingly cast aside your hearts that day, what would have happened?”

“I am not sure.” Dilan’s eyes were glassy. “That is why I find coming to terms with this so… difficult. Moreover, what would you have done?”

He felt a twitchy smile cross his face. “I probably would have submitted to it.”

“We cannot hope to erase these betrayals,” Dilan said. “Or the atrocities.”

“But we can apologize. Publicly. Gracefully.” He sighed. “And we can do our best to make this world better.”

Dilan’s expression lost some of its wryness. “...I suppose we can.” He shook his head. “It is not fair of us to let you do all this alone.”

Ienzo looked down at the revisions. “There will still be a way you can help.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe it’s too late for some of us to be saved.” He stood, and for a moment he reached out with one hand, as though to touch Ienzo. “That is not necessarily your burden to bear.”

“I don’t believe it’s too late.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t talking about you.” A slight pause. “We lied to you, Ienzo. As much as we like to blame this on Xehanort, on his influence, I cannot change those facts. We knew how brittle you were after your parents’ deaths, and yet, we still saw fit to tell you Ansem had abandoned you. Those… ripples of trauma. How can you merely move on?”

Something hot surged under Ienzo’s breast, and he couldn’t find the words.

“Aren’t you angry?” Dilan prompted. “All this talk of Ansem’s betrayal… really, we were the ones who betrayed you.”

He felt as though he were being shaken, the ability to form coherent sentences slipping out of his grasp. He felt himself getting taken back and back, through the annals of memory, to that time of confusion and lies. He left the room, ignoring Dilan’s further prodding, and tried to cover up the panic before he unraveled more.

---

The conversation threw Ienzo. He found himself sitting in front of the window in the apartment, trying to make sense of what Dilan had said. He loosened the ascot at his throat and ran the fabric across his fingertips in an attempt to self-soothe.

Were they truly beyond forgiveness?

Forgiveness was such a subjective concept. So much stemmed from it, yet it was so aqueous, hazy. They were not entitled to be forgiven for what they’d done--as apprentices or as Nobodies--but so far nobody had questioned them, or truly looked down upon them. Yet, if he were looking at it from a purely moral standpoint, shouldn’t they? And then what? There was no law enforcement, no jails--during Ansem’s time as ruler, he’d strongly believed in rehabilitation of those who had committed all but the most arduous of crimes. Towards the top of the list? Dismemberment of a human being. And arguably, their experiments had led to the dismemberment of metaphysical beings--

They’d lied to him.

Ienzo buried his face in the ascot’s folds and tried to steady his breathing. He heard keys jangling in the door’s lock and nearly sprinted for the bathroom for privacy, but the panic had him in such a way that it was easier not to move.

Demyx’s reaction was predictable. “Hey,” he said slowly. He came over and sat next to him on the sill’s cushion. “Breathe with me.”

He tried. He could feel his heart beating as quick as a mouse’s.

“Do you want me to calm you?” Demyx asked.

“Yes,” he hissed through his teeth, in a stranger’s voice. Ienzo heard him go to the kitchen, heard running water. He was handed a glass of water that was tinted vaguely green. It tasted too sweet, and he almost gagged on it, but he forced himself to drink it all down.

The effects were almost instantaneous. He felt heavy, but the adrenaline stopped burning in his veins, and his airways loosened. “Better?” Demyx asked.

Ienzo reached out for him and felt himself getting drawn close. He laid his head against Demyx's chest. The beat of his heart was grounding.

“Did something happen?” Demyx asked.

“In a sense.” His breathing had stabilized, but there was something wheezy about the way he spoke. To Demyx’s shoulder, Ienzo asked, “Do you feel guilty?”

A slight pause. “In general?”

“About bad things you might have done. In the past.”

“Well--to a degree--of course.”

“Do you think I’m beyond forgiveness? That all of us here are?”

Demyx pulled away and held him at arm’s length. “Of course not--who put that bullshit idea in your head?”

“Dilan.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He scoffed. “The guy’s a real ray of sunshine.”

In a few clipped sentences, Ienzo explained what had happened. Demyx processed it for a moment. “I mean, I agree we totally did some real fucked up shit. But you… you went above and beyond to try and put things as right as you could when it came to the experiments. And even if you hadn’t, Ienzo, you tried so hard to help Sora, to point yourself in the right direction. That’s not for nothing. The others, too. Even, with his vessels. Me, delivering them, and healing. And I’m sure everyone else has their own ways of making up for what happened. I’m sure the public sees that.”

“Don’t we deserve some kind of punishment?”

He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t think a decade’s worth of trauma is punishment enough?”

“I… suppose.”

“Even whether or not we deserve forgiveness, we’ve been forgiven. So all we have to do is try our best to live up to it. Right?”

Ienzo dabbed at his damp eyes. “You’re right.”

“It’s like you said. Panic hates logic.” Ienzo allowed himself to settle back against him. Demyx wrapped his arms around his waist. After a moment, Demyx spoke again. “Not to be, like, fake deep or whatever, but trauma and guilt are so wrapped up it’s hard to tell one from the other sometimes.”

That was true.

“Also it sounds like he was projecting hardcore onto you.”

Demyx was stroking his hair. Between that, and the medicine, he was feeling drowsy now. “Since when have you studied psychology?”

“Not so much studied as listened to you. I've learned a lot that way.”

“Am I supposed to feel sleepy?”

“It can happen. Why don’t you nap for a little while? I’ll make some dinner.”

Against Demyx’s collarbone, Ienzo mumbled, “Alright.” He tried to find the energy to stand, but Demyx hefted him up and carried him over to the bed. Ienzo wondered if this was what it was like to feel drunk. “I feel… fragile.” He curled under the covers.

“You’re really not.” Demyx kissed his forehead. “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

“Remain stable.”

Demyx knelt by the bed. He looked sheepish. “I hate who I was as a Nobody, but the thing about Demyx… he could really take the slings and arrows.” He shrugged. “I try not to let the bad things get to me. If they do, I… well. Talk through it, write through it, play through it. I try to keep telling myself that… things will be okay.”

“And you believe that?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I’ll try to believe the same.”

Demyx kissed Ienzo’s hand. “Get some rest.”

He drifted off into a haze of uncertain dreams.

---

Ienzo woke, suddenly, in the middle of the night, his breath catching audibly in his throat, the vestiges of memory not quite freeing him. The sensation of breathlessness shouldn’t feel familiar, but it did. He sat up and pulled his hands through his hair; the calming draught must have worn off.

Something was coming undone; he had enough wherewithal to understand that much.

So much for being intelligent and psychically strong; Dilan’s words had opened a vein of scar tissue, spilling free pain he hadn’t been aware he’d had.

They’d lied.

It was easy to blame Ansem for his problems, but really he wasn’t at fault; they were. They let this happen. They were going to--

“Ienzo?” Demyx sat up. “What’s going on?”

The room was dark, the quarter-horned moon not quite enough to see by. He tried to form words. This was not so much going nonverbal as losing hold of something. A thick sob caught under his tongue.

“Hey,” Demyx said. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

He felt himself getting drawn close, and the pressure of arms around him was welcome. The sobs sounded like they were coming from someone else. He couldn’t stop it. The severity of these revelations was almost too sharp; he realized he was squeezing Demyx’s arm very tightly and tried to let go.

Even once the sobs had stopped he felt curiously barren, a heat replacing the awful stillness. “What’s wrong?” Demyx asked. “Was it a nightmare?”

“Of a sort.” His voice sounded hoarse. “I must… I have to talk to Even.”

“Right now?” Demyx smoothed at Ienzo’s hair. “Can it wait until morning?”

“I don’t know.” He pulled away from the embrace.

“At least let me come with you,” he hedged.

“No,” Ienzo said, with more sharpness than he thought. “No, I… I can’t.” He fumbled for shoes, his gummiphone, his robe.

“I’m worried about you,” Demyx said.

Ienzo hesitated. “Go back to sleep,” he said, in a voice he hoped was placating and not as unhinged as he felt. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He went down and down and down the well-worn halls, the light of his phone harsh and unreal in the darkness. He suspected he was not mentally stable, but in that moment it didn’t matter.

The door to Even’s lab, normally locked, was open.

There he was, a single lamp all that was illuminating the room, bent over a book, scanning feverishly for something, his blond hair falling over the pages. At the sudden noise, Even flinched, and looked over his shoulder. “Out for a nighttime stroll?” he asked drolly. “Or did you have a lovers’ quarrel?”

“You lied.”

Even paused, but didn’t seem surprised. “What is this about?”

“You lied to me. About Ansem.” He was breathing hard, and fought to get it under control.

“Yes, I know. I thought you did, too.” He turned towards Ienzo.

“I want to know why.” His words were failing him, caught in a maelstrom of meaninglessness. “Why did you all do it to me? Did you think I would not understand? That I--” His eyes warmed with tears.

Even sighed. “It is… handy to blame it all on Xehanort.” He drummed his fingers against his knees. “Truthfully, I like to think that it came from a place of protection. But that is all bunk. It we were to separate you from Ansem’s influence, then we could continue our work, unfettered. Simply… if you had nothing but us, you would rely on us, and comply with us. I cannot overstate it--as soon as it happened, I regretted it, Ienzo, because I saw how devastated you were. But by then it was too late to undo the damage. And I was a weak and selfish man. I really did believe we were better off without him.”

The explanation fell, heavily, at Ienzo’s feet. The hand holding the gummiphone trembled.

“It is one of my biggest mistakes,” he admitted. He clucked his tongue. “I cared, but I didn’t care enough, in the right way. I should’ve--as soon as we did what we did, I should’ve tried to retrieve him. Or at the very least, tried to take you out of that situation. Let you grow up normally, and not become a stunted husk. But I didn’t. I… I held my work above all, and in the process, destroyed what was most important.” His green eyes were bloodshot. “Does that answer your question?”

Ienzo still struggled to breathe, but the heat in him was cooling, hardening into something heavy and painful.

“I do not expect your forgiveness,” Even said softly. “I do not deserve it, either, after all the suffering I’ve retroactively put you through. But know that I… I am trying to atone. To grow. It is so… difficult--Ienzo?”

A rough sob cut the speech in two, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Even stood, and reached out to touch him, but Ienzo flinched.

“You are not well,” Even said. “Sit.”

He sat on the cot that served as Even’s bed and hugged himself tightly.

“Pain hides in pockets,” Even said. “Compartmentalizes. You knew of our betrayal, but for whatever reason, only now are you processing what it meant to you.” He exhaled. “If you wish for us to have no further contact--”

“I don’t wish that,” he said. “I… I want to trust you. If only because the thought of holding onto this is too much.”

“Then don’t,” Even said gently.

“You’re all I knew.”

“...I know.”

“I wanted to please you. I would've done anything to impress you.” He shook his head. Things inside of him kept shifting, refusing to take form. “Once it all started… I never wanted people to get hurt.”

Even sighed, a derelict sound. “Nor did I. But then… I convinced myself that it was all alright, not only because it was in the interest in something greater, but because our victims supposedly consented. To be more colloquial, denial is one hell of a drug.”

Ienzo tried to stem the flow of tears. It seemed as though they were coming from the past itself.

“The only person you owe forgiveness is yourself,” Even said softly. He took Ienzo’s hand and, when he didn’t pull it away, gave it a squeeze. “Remember that.”