Chapter Five

She tells me she's sick and then expects me to care.

Which I don't, by the way. Not really. It would be different if she were contagious, but circumstances being what they are, even if she was, it wouldn't matter.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it, sweetheart," I said from outside her locked door. I was pretty sure I heard some award winning dry heaving going on in the background. "I think I've got, like, Motrin or something in the closet…"

And I used that not for repressed immune systems so much as I used it for subduing Roxas. That kid was an atomic bomb if given enough chemical enhancement.

"Go away."

"Aw, are you still pissed I left you on the floor of my ship again? It's not my fault you have low blood pressure, darling."

"Your pet names are what's making me sick…honey."

I love it when she attempts sarcasm. Love.

"I don't use that one often, actually," I mused, tossing the bottle of cough syrup I had been forced to dig out of my bathroom moments prior. Kairi was refusing to open the door because she thinks I somehow spiked the cough syrup and have the intent of molesting her. Which is lunacy. There's nothing to molest. Not even a handful.

Besides, she had said, her mother always told her not to take candy from strangers.

"I don't have narcotics on my ship," I shot back, the humor of my last remark going unreciprocated.

"I'm not taking any drug you give me!"

"If it's already a drug then how the hell could I spike it?"

"…Um, I…I dunno," she started. "With…with more drugs!"

Her IQ rivaled that of her waist size. Which is funny, because I didn't know they came in negative numbers. (Larxene informed me that there are no negative numbers in women's clothing, only size 00 if you wanted to starve yourself to death. Demyx then asked if that was how Larxene got here, and he was answered with a kick in the ass. Ha.)

"You didn't have a problem with eating my food—"

"Because I watched you make it!"

Kairi had had her head in the toilet the entire morning. Nothing else but white porcelain was in her peripheral vision.

Eventually Kairi had grown so irritated at me that she locked me out of her room—well, the room. It was still on my ship. And she was only barrowing it. Temporarily.

"So how about letting me read some of that poetry of yours?"

"…muck foo," was what I heard, but I think the toilet distorted it.

"Alright. Listen, doll, I'm not gonna stand here all night. Here's the cough syrup, I'm sticking it right here, next to the door. If you get desperate enough, drag your head out of the crapper and unlock the thing. Until then, I bid thee ado."

But I didn't get very far.

I don't know why, but I always seem to think of the best ideas three seconds too late.

"Has it ever occurred to you," I began, now right outside her door again, "that maybe, perhaps, this is morning sickness?"

Silence.

I thought for a moment Kairi had gone and suffocated on a wad of her own vomit until the door was thrust open in my face and she full on tackle glomped me to the floor.

"I don't sleep around!" she squealed, voice cracking due to the unprecedented amounts of puking.

"…Well, you aren't doing yourself any favors laying on top of me."

Another squeal, followed by the plunk of her body on metal as she darted off my chest.

"You seem to have an affinity with my floor," I noted.

"Why not?" she horsed. "It's warmer than you are."

I think, if I were capable of it, that last line would have hurt a little.

But I'm not, so it doesn't matter.

"Well then you've never seen me try to set myself on fire."

"When the heck did you—"

"Beer. Luxord. Not a good combo."

Kairi sat there, pale and mute, and then threw her hands over her mouth.

"That way," I ordered, directing her head in the opposite direction, but she got up and made it to the bathroom in time.

The door was now conveniently open, at any rate. But I chose not to comment on it, because then she might actually take the initiative to lock it again.

o-o-o-o

Two hours and eight more spews later, Kairi was fast asleep and snoring, compliments of the cough syrup she swore never to drink.

God, I think she swallowed the whole bottle.

And that is why I went in her room. Not to molest her. Not to take black mail pictures. My mind was thinking the words over dose and anaphylactic shock all at the same time. I went in to check out her pulse. Not her chest.

Which would have been an endeavor in vain, at any rate.

She was curled up in the fetal position on the top of the covers, shivering fiercely and muttering something or other about that Sora character in her sleep.

Humans are pathetic. I don't miss being one.

I paused before snatching up her toothpick wrist. I really didn't want her filing for sexual harassment if she woke up while I was touching her. And the shivering already attested to her being alive. Still. I wanted to be sure. Insurance purposes. I don't get to eat if I don't deliver the cargo.

It's surreal to feel the beating of a heart when you cease to have one.

And she was right; I am rather cold. Physically. Not to say that I wouldn't go for a good roll in the hay ('Axel, that's lame, man, no one says that anymore.' I told Roxas to shut up. He's not much better.) so much as my fingers felt like ice in comparison to her skin.

Knowing I could heat myself up on a second's notice did nothing to subdue the fact that Kairi was warmer than I could ever hope to be.

Even in regards to all her hissy fits and crying jags.

Feeling a little guilty, which I shouldn't have been—I shouldn't have been feeling anything anymore—I went into the closet and took out a blanket. I unfolded it and then threw it over Kairi's body, head and all.

I figured if she needed oxygen, she could pop her head out and get that for herself.

I wasn't about to go maternal. God.

After a couple moments of watching the lump of blanket go up and down (I was making sure the shivers had stopped, I swear) I noticed a very ravished looking legal pad sitting beside the sink. Piqued, and always up for a good laugh, especially at someone else's expense, I indulged and began to read one of Kairi's…poems.

Ass Hole Axel

He's as skinny as a rod

He thinks he's God

He's annoying as hell

He makes me want to yell

He is so full of crap

(Here Kairi had crossed out crap and replaced it with shit, apparently for rhyming purposes)

He is so full of shit

He thinks he's all it

…And I had to stop, because it was just hurting my brain. And I still had that organ, the last time I checked. I made a metal note of asking Kairi whether or not she managed to graduate high school grammar when she woke up.

Which may be awhile, given the amount of cough syrup she had resorted to.

Who would have known? Kairi's a little crack whore. Maybe if I left out some absinthe she'd drink that, too.

I placed the poetry back on the side of the sink and closed the door so she wouldn't know I was there.

Which was stupid.

Because I left the blanket.

o-o-o-o

And I'm really not that skinny, am I?

I can't help it that I have a high metabolism. At least I don't look malnourished like some people. The Girl probably ate, like, nine calories a day.

Ha. I love how I'm trying to desensitize myself be referring to her as The Girl instead of Kairi. Like I really expected that to work. Come on, Axel. You know yourself better than that. Or, at least you thought you did.

And as for being full of crap, I don't know what she's referring to. She should have listed an incident or a quote or something. I can't work with nothing, people. And how does she expect me to know when I'm annoying her, anyway?

'Oh my gosh, Axel! You left me on the floor again!'

Alright. So I admit. That was pretty crappy of me.

But I got away with it the first time.

Maybe because she hit her head going down. The second time I caught her.

Be quiet. She doesn't know that.

o-o-o-o

And I'm not annoying, either.

Not like this is getting under my skin or anything. I just think certain matters need to be clarified. Like me being annoying. Or not, in my case.

I'm enlightening. I bring things out in people they wouldn't see most of the time. Usually it's the wielding of some sharp, pointy object. Or just a big hunk of shield that Vexen actually refers to as a weapon.

'Weapons hurt people, Vexen. They're offensive. That thing is strictly defensive.'

'Well you're beingoffensiveto me right now,' he had retaliated, and it just sounded so lame coming from him. I mean, it would sound lame coming from anybody, but usually I try to not piss people off unless I have to. ('Bull crap,' I can hear Roxas muttering.)

And as it turns out, I was wrong and Vexen was right. That shield does hurt when it's rammed up your ass.

At any rate.

There is a fine line between amusing and annoying.

Someone needs to educate her on these matters.

o-o-o-o

"Why were you in my room?"

"Hmm?"

"My room," Kairi was now demanding, standing in the cockpit of my ship like she owned the damn place. She had a hand on her hip and was tapping her foot for emphasis.

"Well, I see that spiked cough syrup did wonders."

She rolled her eyes.

"I got tired of puking, alright?"

"And since when did it become your room, anyway?" I asked without missing a beat. (It's not like I need proof she drank the stuff, she left the bottle lying right out in the hall. Slob.)

"I just assumed—"

"And we all know what that makes you."

She had to think on that one.

"I read your poem," I taunted, and I probably should have taken into account my lack of defense before provoking her, but I needed some answers.

Besides, what was she gonna do? Jump me to death?

And that fact aside, I couldn't exactly die. Kinda gives me the advantage, ya know?

"You what?" she shrieked.

Bloody hell. The volume.

"Indoor voice!" I demanded, hands migrating to my ears before I had massive internal hemorrhaging due to the explosion of both ear drums.

Kairi, frothing at the mouth, started to advance towards me, which made me instinctively summon my chakrams, which, in turn, made her instinctively cower backwards.

For a moment, anyway.

"You're that scared of me?" she smirked, figuring she had some material now. "That you felt the need to summon your—"

"I'm not that skinny," I interrupted. "Your wonderful rhyming skills aside, I would prefer to be referred to as lean." I paused. "Which rhymes with mean, by the way, so you should have no trouble with that one."

I got some stellar ocular venom there.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she huffed, now all angry and red and puffy looking.

"I kidnapped you," I said. "I don't know how it works on Destiny Islands, but usually when someone gets kidnapped, the kidnapper is allowed to do whatever the hell he wants."

Kairi's eyes grew wide.

"And no, I did not molest you while you were sleeping." I paused. "Admittedly, that would have been less scaring than reading your poetry."

"Are you trying to say molesting me would be emotionally scaring?"

…And I swear to all that is holy and sacred I will never figure women out. Never. I could live nine lives and I'd still be left sitting there scratching my head.

"Are you trying to say you're taking offense to the fact that molesting you—something I negated to do, by the way—would inadvertently hurt me?"

Kairi's mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again.

"The answer to that one is yes, sweetheart," I supplied. "Just in case you were somewhat confused."

"Was not," she rallied.

"Was too."

"Was—I'm not doing this," she said. "I'll go crazy."

"…Does that mean I'd get to tie you up?" I smirked.

Kairi shrugged. "I guess so. How else would you keep crazy people from hurting themselves?"

Holy hell, she did it again. Was she, like, not around boys when she was growing up? I mean, besides Sora (who happens to stand for light and goodness and charity and all that crap.) How does a girl reach the age of fifteen without picking up on these things?

"I need to corrupt you," I muttered, this time not implying anything sexual. I just flat out needed to corrupt her.

Of course, that was where she chose to read between the lines.

"You're not getting anywhere near me!"

I rolled my eyes.

"I don't need to be touching you to corrupt you, sweet—"

Almost as if to prove her—I dunno, corruptive-ness?—she marched over to me and took a swing at my chest.

"I am not your sweetheart!"

I listened to the thud that resounded when her fist came in contact with my body.

"Can we rewind and do this again? I liked it better when you were on top of me."

She spewed, sputtered, and frothed a little more before stalking off to her room—yes, that's right, it's her room—and slamming the door for emphasis.

o-o-o-o

"Are you doing dinner or what?"

No answer.

"Kairi?"

Still no answer.

"You didn't drown in the toilet bowl, did you? Remember, suicide is never the answer."

Nothing.

"…I'll stop calling you sweetheart."

And at this, the door was opened. (Just a little, but it was opened.)

"Promise?"

"…No."

Another lethal glare.

"But I'll try. Real hard." Continued glaring. "I'm not gonna frickin pinkie swear on the thing, kid."

"I am not a kid!"

I inhaled sharply through my nose.

"Look, it's either sweetheart or kid, Kairi. You've gotta choose one of them."

And don't you just love my ultimatums? I do.

"Fine. Kid."

I was surprised. I half expected her to slam the door in my face, thus further proving her kiddiness.

I think I just made up a word.

"But I get to call you something, too," she continued, and this is where I found myself unprepared. I hadn't predicted this.

"Sorry, but Ass Hole Axel has already been taken. It's copyrighted in this poem somewhere—"

"I'll tell you when I think of it," she grumbled, then stepped outside the room. "What you feed me tonight better not make me sick again."

"How do you know it was my cooking that had you keeled over and not something else, like, say, a germ?"

"Because I could identify half of it in the toilet bowl!"

Silence.

"Okay. Ew."

"You asked, ass ho—"

"Nu-uh," I reminded her. "That one's already been taken. You're plagiarizing."

"I can't plagiarize myself!"

I almost said: well what if you're plagiarizing someone else, but figured no one else's poetry could suck that badly.

And we're talking: cheap Hollywood whore suckage here, folks. Brand new Hoover vacuum cleaner suckage, even.

"So…what's for dinner?"

"I dunno. I was gonna ask you the same thing."

There was a silence, and then The Girl kinda smirked a little, and actually let out a laugh.

"We're helpless," she finally concluded, scrubbing her temples this way and that, like massaging her head would make the situation any better. And not to say it was necessarily bad. I got paid for playing with a teenage beach bunny for seven days until I delivered her to Uber Secret Destination Of Doom and even got free entertainment while at it.

And I thought I was done with babysitting missions. Ha.

(I am, mind you. Starting after this one.)

"There's always the microwave," I alluded. "And some mac and cheese."

Roxas lived off the stuff. He wasn't old enough to drink so the kid resorted to heated up cheddar and noodles and called it a day.

…God I miss that twerp.

Maybe just as much as Kairi missed Sora.

No. No, I missed Roxas more. He didn't preach saccharine and Prozac. And he could wield two keyblades. Ergo, he could significantly kick Sora's ass.

Now that's the kind of entertainment I missed.

Though the mishaps that came along with Kairi trying to conquer a microwave were fairly rewarding, too.

Maybe I should teach her how to fight. That could be fun.

(But what the hell would her weapon be? Some cheap, lame ass knock off of her boyfriend's, most likely. Probably infested with flowers or daisies or some girly crap like that. Roxas would die. Again.)

"You think I can keep down cheddar?" she asked honestly.

Hell no.

"Yeah, sure."

It's called sadism. I took notes from Larxene. The psychotic, chronically PMSing snitch that she is.

And then The Girl just nodded and said 'okay, if you say so'—and, and, and, I dunno. I felt my stomach plummet through the floor. Like, she's not supposed to trust me. I'm her kidnapper, dammit, her kidnapper! You don't just take my frickin' word for it, retard. Roxas was my best friend and even he'd double check everything that flew out of my mouth. Said I was more reliable drunk than sober. Which I punched him for. But in a totally loving, best friend way. He responded by ramming his twin keyblades into my gut.

See? Violence is all I've ever known.

Hm, yes. That's my excuse for being a bloody bastard.

(Along with never properly dying, but that's another story.)

"On second thought," I began, watching Kairi stupidly march off to the kitchen to go and ingest the deadly cheddar. "We may be better off with pizza."

"Seriously?" she squeaked, voice still not normal. "But I thought you said-"

"Look, I know what I said, okay? Mozzarella is better for your stomach. Ya know, that whole digestion process and crap."

Zexion's intellect is beginning to rub off on me. What? I can't help it. I'm surrounded by six diabolical scientists day in and day out. I know my shit.

"…That sounded very, um, profound."

Alright. So I didn't word it like he would. He'd be all: 'studies have been shown to prove that mozzarella, in it's organic state, is a more binding and therefore better choice for maintaining homeostasis throughout the duration of the evening.'

…The only word that would interest me in that tirade is 'homeostasis,' and that's only because Roxas and I would nudge each other and make way lame homo jokes until we were on the floor in stitches.

"I'm known for my intellectual capacity."

Kairi blinked at this.

"Bull shit," she concluded, totally nonchalant, and then went off to the kitchen.

God, that was hot.

o-o-o-o

"I'd avoid the pepperonis if I were you."

"…Thanks for your foresight, but I was able to figure that one out on my own."

"I dunno, sweetheart," I drawled. "You seemed pretty gung ho over that cheddar."

Kairi looked up from the oven, face perspiring – though whether it was from the heat or her unrequited wrath I'll never know.

"Sweetheart was officially banned as of five minutes ago," she reminded me, dragging a lanky appendage across her forehead. She paused, probably searching for some saucy little comeback, and then added, "Don't make me tell you again."

"Or you'll what?"

In response to her utter lack of repertoire, I opted to go over and help The Girl out with ramming the frozen pizza into the unsuspecting jaws of my primeval cooking appliance. She just looked so ashamed and embarrassed over her uncalled for pause in mental clarity that I couldn't help myself. Coming up blank in a game of verbal wits wouldn't kill you – Demyx did it all the time and he was still here. Well, sort of.

"Ya know, you don't have to have a snarky comment for everything, Kid."

I lowered my voice so as not to send her hair standing on end – as I seem to have that affect on her. And females in general. Usually followed by a shot at my tenders.

"Why not?" she posed. "You do."

"Yeah, but, Kairi, I'm a villain. I've had practice."

"Well how long have you been a villain?"

I was unsure of how to go about answering that.

So, following my own advice, I chose to opt out of a scintillating response and slammed the oven door shut with enough force to shake the walls of my ship.

"Can't count that high?"

"…There you go again with that snark," I grumbled. "Not becoming, I'm telling ya."

She huffed and leaned against the far counter of the alcove.

"Well what else am I supposed to do? Stand here and let you prance all over me?"

"First off, I don't prance anywhere," I countered. "And second off, well, why don't we try having an adult conversation and see how that goes?"

"You mean, like, right now?"

"…Sure. Why not."

Silence.

"Um."

"Think. Real hard. I'll be waiting."

There was a glint in her eye, and for a moment I feared I had set her off again, but the look quickly flickered and went out after about three seconds.

"I miss Sora," she mouthed, barely audible, and the fragment almost died reaching my ears.

"…Conversation, Kiddo," I reminded her, after a moment was dedicated to contemplative reminiscing. "Not a monologue."

Kairi glared. The fire was back. Dammit.

"I was just thinking out loud," she snipped. "Not monolouging. Or…angsting."

"Yeah but what do you want me to say to that?" I grumbled, absent mindedly setting my palm on fire and making the consequential spark jump from finger to finger. "We all miss someone."

She looked at me again, eyes growing large and somewhat sympathetic. It caught me off guard.

"Who do you miss?"

"Meh," was my deft response.

"…I thought you wanted to have a conversation."

"Not about this, Kid."

"Well you pick a topic, then." Pause. "Just stay away from my poetry."

I smirked at the memory.

"Yes, your Nobel Prize Winning compositions. Such poignant pieces they were."

I received one dainty middle finger lurched high in the air. I grinned despite myself.

"Again with your profound literary skills, I see."

I readied myself for another, uncompromised 'muck foo' but I didn't get it.

Kairi sighed and all of the sudden perched herself on the edge of the counter top. Her monstrous feet – compliments of puberty, I'm sure – were swinging from side to side as she gnawed on her lower lip and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. I was once again reminded of just how young she was. And how old, consequently, I was.

Which kinda just sucked on a whole lot of levels.

"So when did you meet this girl?" she tried, appearing to look nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Wait, what? Girl?" The spit fire I was currently nursing simmered down. "Who said I was missing a girl?"

"Well, I just assumed – "

I could practically hear Roxas hyperventilating next to me, desperately requesting a bucket of brain bleach. Maybe clawing his eyes out due to the unprecedented mental imagery. I dunno.

"You do that too much," I noted.

"So do you."

"Yeah, but I'm usually right."

Not really. But the only one who ever had the balls to confront me about it was Roxas. And Larxene. Who quite possibly has bigger balls than anyone in the entire Organization.

I sighed. The only way out of this awkward conversation was turning it around.

"Tell me about Sora," I demanded, trying to appear dismissive but I somehow knew it was terribly unconvincing.

"I thought you didn't want to hear about Sora."

"I don't," I assured her.

"Well then why – "

"It's better than the alternative."

"Oh. The Mystery Mistress?"

My face quirked up. "What the hell, Kid? I already told you, there is no Mystery Mistress."

"Uh-huh," Kairi drawled, unconvinced.

"Fine. Believe what you want."

I would sell both my kidneys just to see the milky sheen on Roxas' face when he found out he was being referred to as my 'mystery mistress.'

Holy Hell. Good times.

…Or, at least they would be.

If he was, like, here and stuff. Which he's not. So I guess I'm keeping my kidneys.

"He treated me like an equal," Kairi blurted out, all of the sudden, with absolutely no warning. It took me a minute to realize we were talking about her long lost best friend and not mine.

"Yeah?" I scoffed. "Then why'd he leave you behind? Why not take you with him?"

"He kind of had to save the world," Kairi grumbled. "Priorities?"

"What's the matter - was he afraid you couldn't carry your own?"

Kairi dead panned. "I thought we were going to have an adult conversation."

I laughed despite myself. "You're referring to Roxas as my Mystery Mistress! I'm sorry Kid, but it's physically impossible for this to be an adult conversation."

…And maybe thinking about that stupid idiot was putting me in a worse mood than I thought.

"So her name was Roxas?"

"His!" I corrected, laughing even more bitterly than before. "Gods, Roxas is a dude!" And before she could ask it, because I knew it was coming next, I shot out, "And no, I am not gay."

Kairi's mouth sagged open. "I wasn't even thinking that."

Ha. For once, she doesn't assume, and I go ahead and stick my foot in my mouth anyway. Bravo.

It was then that I chose to look down at my hands and was slightly dismayed to find out that they had set themselves on fire once again – as they are prone to do whenever I get into a heated debate (no pun intended, har har har.) Mostly this habit becomes quite evident when arguing with Larxene, or quite possibly Xaldin, just because his aloofness in general annoys me, but for Roxas to trigger that reaction? Well. I guess it makes sense.

And Kairi was doing a fairly decent job at not, like, totally freaking out given her past affinity with fire. Which was sarcasm, by the way. Don't know if you caught that.

"Um…" she squeaked.

"Don't faint," I ordered. "I can't catch you right now."

Her face went transparent. "You've caught me?"

It was an awkward moment.

"No," I lied. "No, I let you face plant. It was more amusing that way." I inhaled sharply through my nose and let out a string of mollifications in an obscure eastern language. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go to the bathroom and…extinguish my hands."

I left her sitting there, on my counter, alone with a smoking oven and a way over cooked mozzarella pizza.

o-o-o-o

Author's Note

o-o-o-o-o

Blame Hope for the continuation of this fic, of which I had pretty much abandoned and left for the dogs. She made this ridiculously dopamine inducing AMV of it on YouTube (the glorious link is located at the bottom of my profile – you have not truly lived until you have clicked on it) and I felt the need to redeem my former three year old chicken scratch with something that resembled coherency.

Forgive the previous chapters. For they are old and in need of reworking.

At any rate: thank you for making it this far, your persistency will serve you well in life. XD

And thanks Hope for just, ya know, being you.