Prologue:
Day 4: In Which There are Familiar Strangers
Roxas felt his chest loosen slowly, and he straightened expectantly, but there were no more enemies, and the arena did not return to normal. Everything was just -- still. Then from behind him came the sound of someone clapping, sending Roxas spinning on his heel warily. There was a man in a black leather coat, hood up over his face, weaving his way through the crowd.
Another one? Something about him was different, maybe simply that he was more direct. Roxas frowned and waited for him to say something.
"Very nice, Roxas. There's the guy we all know and -- well, love might not be the right word, you know?" The man paused and tilted his head to the side. "...What are you wearing?"
Roxas's hand went to his head automatically, with the weird helmet that made his hair stick up in all directions. "It's regulation," he said weakly, and then snapped out of it, glaring. "Are you the guy who stole Olette's wallet?" This time he was prepared -- definitely not going to get caught by surprise and thrown into any portals before he got his answer.
The man stopped walking all at once. "Excuse me? Roxas -- it's me." He reached up and pulled the hood back, revealing bright red hair that settled around his shoulders in vivid spikes. "It's Axel."
He seemed expectant, even eager. Roxas's scowl deepened. It wasn't the same guy who had stolen the wallet, then, but he wasn't letting his guard down around anyone he met while time was stopped. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
I guess it is, he thought as Axel's expression went blank for a heartbeat before settling into something almost like a smile. "Talk about blank with a capital B. So they were right, you really don't remember..." He tapped his chin with one gloved finger and then said thoughtfully, "I bet this'll jog your memory."
Axel stretched out his hands and with a rush of sound and heat two giant chakrams spun into his hands, sending Roxas stumbling back a reflexive step before catching himself. Those weapons looked incredibly lethal, a far cry from the bladed digits that the silver creatures had used to slice at him.
"We used to do this kinda thing a lot," Axel said casually, waving a chakram. "You liked it then. Let's see if you can still take me."
Then he launched himself forward with alarming speed, one chakram drawn back to strike. Caught off-guard, Roxas leapt back on instinct, bringing his keyblade up to meet and block the chakram. He was positive he'd remember meeting this freak before.
"Nice," Axel said approvingly, with a wide grin. "But you'll have to do better."
Roxas could feel the shift in his weight as he brought the other chakram around, and he realized with a dawning sense of horror that he was at a huge disadvantage, fighting with only the one weapon -- if he blocked one, the other could still tear him apart. He flung himself backwards in an awkward dodge and tucked into a roll, then sprang away the moment he got his feet beneath him, putting some distance between himself and the redheaded man.
Can't just stay on the defensive, Roxas thought, reversing direction and lunging-- but Axel just tangled fingers in Roxas's vest, wincing as the keyblade smashed into his ribs but dragging them both inexorably to the ground. Roxas landed on top of him, but Axel only frowned up at him. "You're off form, that should've hurt a lot more. What did he do to you?"
Roxas shoved himself away and back to his feet. "What are you talking about, no one's done anything to me!"
"Really." Axel didn't stand, just sat up and spun one chakram idly, just keeping the spikes from skimming the ground. "Do you know who you really are?"
That off-handed little question sent a chill up Roxas's spine. "That girl-- Namine said something like that too. Who are you?"
"I told you; Axel," he said dismissively. "It's who you are that matters. Roxas -- Number XIII -- the one chosen by the keyblade."
Roxas glanced at the keyblade, feeling kind of betrayed. It was supposed to be his saving grace, not get him in more trouble... He looked at Axel again, more wary. "What are you talking about?"
Axel slung an arm over his knees and smirked up at Roxas, although there was something -- not quite sincere about the expression. "Come back with me. It's not much, but it's home--"
"Shut up!" Roxas snapped, bristling instinctively. He gestured angrily with the keyblade. "This is my home!"
"This place?" Axel echoed, getting to his feet slowly. "Are you kidding me? You still haven't figured it out. This town, he--"
Roxas was practically shaking, he was waiting so intensely to hear the rest of that sentence; when Axel trailed off he almost threw the keyblade at the bastard's head in frustration. "What? He what?"
Axel shrugged. "It's his creation. He made it, to imprison you -- a cage for the tiger." He sounded rather clinically admiring, but his lips were twisted. "And he really did a number on you, too. But I don't have much time -- think I'm starting to wear out my welcome." Axel's expression darkened as he brought up his chakrams. This cold decisiveness was so much more authentic on his features than the smiles and smirks of earlier. "Come with me, Roxas. Now."
Roxas braced himself again. "I don't think so. I'm getting questions answered first." No one in a black coat had ever done anything good for him.
"Well, you can't say I didn't try!" Axel said lightly, and before he even finished speaking he hurled a chakram at Roxas's legs.
Roxas barely had time to startle and leap up, over the spinning blades. It's like talking to a viper or something--! A second followed the first, and then Axel grinned at him from across the ring, unarmed and daring him to strike.
He still wasn't really fighting. Axel was just playing with him, and that -- that annoyed Roxas, somewhere deep and displeased. Either fight me or don't! He hurtled over the chakram, propelling himself forward as he leapt, back curved like some lunging wolf, and the moment he landed he was already running, racing for Axel with intent speed. Axel watched him approach with his lips curving up just slightly, and twisted to the side at the last minute, a chakram reappearing in one hand to swing at Roxas with his greater reach. Without changing momentum Roxas ducked in under his arm, forcing it to the side with his shoulder and taking advantage of the opportunity he'd created to ram the keyblade into the tall man's side.
Axel made a small choked noise as Roxas stepped back -- laughing, Roxas realized suddenly, and glanced down at the keyblade. He had turned the blade around in his hand, striking with the shaft instead of the teeth of the key. Why had he done that? Did he have a death wish or something?
Axel said thickly, "That's more like it."
Roxas's head jerked up, and his lips quirked slightly at the edges. A moment ago he was afraid for his life, and now it almost felt like he was enjoying it. Damnit -- this was so confusing.
"And that smile," Axel continued, straightening. "That's better, too. Not that big idiotic grin you had on earlier."
That wiped it off his face quickly -- when I was with my friends, of course I was smiling -- but Roxas was intent on Axel's movements, waiting for the one that would turn into an attack, and almost idly twirling the keyblade over the back of one hand. He wanted to win.
Axel lifted an arm, grinning at him. "This is good, this is good. Maybe this'll jog your memory some more." The chakram vanished from his palm, but only a second later his gloved hand was wreathed in flame, which shot out from his fingertips in a fountain of melting heat.
For only a moment Roxas spared the energy to be stunned, but his arms moved on their own, bringing the keyblade up in front of him and something, some forcefield, deflected the flames, protecting him. But there was no time to consider -- the moment the fire faded away he darted in close again, with fire at his whims and those throwing weapons at his disposal, Axel had the upper hand as long as Roxas stayed at range.
"Ringing any bells yet?" Axel taunted him, but he was bracing himself.
"Shut up and fight," Roxas muttered under his breath, but then right before he came in Axel's arm's reach he dropped low and skidded against the dais in a circle, the same technique that had worked so well in getting him behind those silver creatures, and swung at Axel from behind.
The redhead stumbled and grunted in pain, but he caught Roxas's wrist before he could pull away. His grip was incredibly strong, painful, and there was no give when Roxas tugged reflexively to get loose. "You could take someone's eye out with that, you know."
Roxas glanced up at him, eyebrows raised -- he had absolutely nothing to say to that, so he just stared pointedly for a cool moment. Then he flexed his free hand, and all at once the keyblade vanished from his captive right hand and reappeared in the left in a sudden shimmer of light. He was swinging before he could even register what happened, but somehow Axel still managed to release him and dodge the blow in time.
I didn't even know I could do that, Roxas thought numbly. But he managed to dodge.
Was there some truth to Axel's claim that he was familiar with Roxas -- that they'd fought before? It should've been impossible, but...
Axel watched him, matching his intensity now at last; he stood warily, shoulders hunched, more like he wanted to defend and watch than attempt to engage him. The redhead started to drawl, "Isn't that interesting," but with startling abruptness he jerked upright. "Shit, here he comes."
The air rippled sharply in the exact spot Axel turned to look at, and another man appeared, dressed in shrouding red and black clothing.
"Roxas," the newcomer said coldly. "Do not listen to this man."
"What?" Roxas said, blank, backing away. He'd only just started to get used to Axel, and now--
"Open your eyes," the stranger urged him. "End this dream!"
Roxas froze, even the breath in his throat stopping. "--dream?"
He almost didn't hear Axel hiss, "Oh, very cute, you bastard. Roxas, don't listen to him-- you're not dreaming! Come back with me!"
The other man's eyes lidded. "Think about it, Roxas. Weren't you in the midst of a tournament? About to become the champion?"
"Shut up!" Axel snarled, with quicksilver speed throwing a chakram at the stranger. It vanished mere inches from his throat, apparently swallowed up by the air in front of him.
DiZ only said softly, "Didn't you make a promise to your friends? To your best friend?"
The words hit Roxas hard, but not as hard as they seemed to hit Axel, who jerked and started to snap something, only to be interrupted by a sudden burst of static. The tall redhead bent at the waist, struggling against the distortion creeping in around the edges.
He'd wanted it so much to be a dream, but this -- Roxas couldn't believe for even a moment that this was how the dream ended, fading out in a burst of static like a TV set lost its signal. He almost felt like he should protest, argue-- even though, wasn't this what he wanted? Axel was the one who had disrupted his life...
"Roxas!" Axel hissed. "Remember who your real best friend is--"
The effort to speak seemed to cost him his resistance, and with a dreadful suddenness, the static enveloped him and then glitched entirely out of existence, leaving behind only silence. Satisfied, the man in the long robes said simply, "I will never give Roxas to the likes of you," and vanished after him.
Roxas found that he was breathing hard. "I'm not," he said to the empty air. "I'm not yours to give away."
But the man did not reappear. Roxas looked around, hopeful, but the town remained frozen, no figure in the crowd moving at all; he was the only sound, the only movement, in the whole world.
The world he knew -- it was so peaceful, so simple. So far away from everything he'd just seen and done. The breath sobbed from his lungs. How do I go back to that? he wondered desperately. To normal? To happiness?
"Hayner? Pence... Olette?" Roxas said, almost desperately. Answer me-- I don't know how to get back!
The ring and the crowd seemed to waver at the sound of his voice, and all at once a high-pitched noise pierced his skull with almost physical pain. Roxas groaned and staggered back, the keyblade slipping from numb fingers as he clutched at his head. It felt like it was being turned inside-out... He gasped, "Hayner--!" Then, louder, trying to outshout the noise: "Pence! Olette!"
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the searing sound vanished, replaced by raucous cheering and Thom's voice booming, "...winner, Roxas!"
Slowly Roxas uncurled himself, blinking out at the crowd, waving and cheering loudly. Hayner and his friends were already up on the stage, racing across it to tackle him with their enthusiasm. Around Hayner's pounding fist Roxas could see Vivi stumbling to his feet and look around in visible confusion.
"You did it!" Hayner crowed.
"Nothing," Roxas started. "Nothing weird happened during the match, right?"
"Aside from Vivi almost giving you a run for your money..." Hayner said, not really listening. "Now all that's left is to beat Setzer!"
Olette was as excited as any of them, still clinging to Roxas's arm, but she mustered a frown. "Don't underestimate him," she scolded. "He looks p, pretty well-built to me, so--"
Hayner's eyes widened. "What?"
The girl flushed immediately and managed, "Nothing!"
That stirred Roxas briefly from his detachment, and he glanced at Pence briefly in time to exchange an amused look with him.
"Nothing?!"
"Nothing."
"Because it sounded like you were checking out the enemy!"
It really was a world away, Roxas thought to himself. There was no way that the strange robed man who thought he owned him could exist in this world -- no way there could be someone like Axel, whose quick violence had been so startling and so familiar.
NEXT >>> Prologue (Part 10)