Theme: #7 - hope
Disclaimer: Unless having the player's guide counts, I don't own anything to do with these guys.
Warnings: None really. Some angst and gratuitous use of italics. Worksafe.
“I’m leaving, Axel.”
Axel strode briskly down the hall, heeled boots hitting the floor with an uncharacteristically sharp staccato, dark eyes staring resolutely ahead. He ignored the speculative looks of the Nobodies he passed, not interested in their petty backbiting today.
“XIII is gone. Zexion and Lexaeus are still in pursuit but we may have to face the fact that he’s escaped.”
His coat flared sharply around his ankles as he turned down another equally faceless hallway, his pace hardly slowing. Axel shook his head slightly, amused despite himself at his own idiocy. He’d never wanted to have to come this way again – so why was he hurrying?
“I need to know what I am. Why did the Keyblade choose me?”
It was stupid really. He’d known all along how this little rebellion was going to end – had predicted from the moment Roxas turned away from them. From him.
“No one will miss me anyway.”
You didn’t turn on the Organization. You couldn’t. Axel stopped in front of the door to the
“Roxas is a traitor to the Organization.”
There was only one thing that happened to traitors. The door opened on silent hinges and Axel stepped inside wearing a poker face that even Luxord couldn’t match.
Xemnas looked up at him with a faint, unsettling smile.
“You sent for me?” Axel asked, not really a question.
Xemnas nodded. “We’ve found him.”
“They’ll probably send you after me, you know.”
Axel knew that. He’d known it from the beginning. His face remained calm. “You want me to go?”
Leopard’s eyes glinted at him. “You know what to do.”
He nodded once and approval flickered across his
“I knew I could count on you Axel.”
Damn Roxas for leaving. Damn the Organization for keeping them all too close to be close. And damn himself for thinking that he could fix things if he went.
Maybe he'll want to come back...
He didn’t know what this feeling was, tangling through his thoughts and making his chest feel strangely tight, but he was morbidly certain that it was going to make a fool of him before the end.