The Organization is absolutely infatuating. They should make a spin off game simply concerning them and their origins. Minor spoilers do lie ahead, you have been warned.

I don't own so don't sue.


"I'm glad I'm dead," Roxas shot out into the inky blackness surrounding the towering sky scraper.

"I'm glad you're dead too," Axel confirmed, eyes closed in unmistakable torpor. Perhaps it wasn't boredom that caused him to take on such a lazy disposition; perhaps he was simply relaxation due to the proximity of his best friend. Charades and facades were not necessary when dealing with Roxas. Axel was simply allowed to be himself, however undiluted and raw that persona may be. Though it may have been beyond his verbal communication, he deeply appreciated it in a way he knew he could never truly express adequately. He hoped Roxas was perceptive enough to pick up on his silent gratitude. It was the only thanks he knew how to offer.

"How did you die anyway?" Roxas inquired, letting his legs dangle off the roof edge of the building. The World That Never Was was home to perpetual darkness, and the cooling atmosphere of the outside was something Roxas thoroughly enjoyed. If he wasn't mindlessly wandering the streets enjoying the fresh air he was on top of one of the numerous skyscrapers star gazing. It wasn't a truly masculine hobby by any means, and the fact that he allowed Axel to join in such an activity was a sign he trusted him with one of the most vulnerable aspects of his personality.

"I thought I told you that already," Axel chuckled to himself, letting his fire red head lolly back against a randomly placed ventilation shaft. "You certainly have a morbid fascination with the macabre."

"Well we all went through it," Roxas muttered off hand.

"True," Axel replied with an affirmative nod. "Doesn't mean we have to dwell on it though."

"I'm not dwelling," the blondie insisted. "I'm pondering."

"Oh? There's a difference?"

"Of course."

Axel knew better than to attempt to penetrate the stubbornness of his comrade. Roxas' thoughts were infallible to himself. He insisted in their accuracy regardless of what others said.

"Well?" Roxas prodded.

"Well what?" Axel countered, stalling intentionally.

"You haven't told me how you died yet."

"You mean reminded you how I died?"

"All you said the first time was gun shot. That's not going to suffice. In fact, that hardly counts. You need to elaborate."

Axel smirked. "Why should I?"

Roxas turned and peered at his friend skeptically.

"Because I asked."

Axel let out a long mangled sigh and tried to exhaust every resource he could for procrastinating. Roxas was persistent to say the very least.

"What about you Roxas? How did you end up being a Nobody?"

"I died," Roxas answered simply.

"Well now that was a given."

It was amusing how, even though both young men were yearning desperately to know the other's answer, neither was comfortable exposing that part of his past. It was as if the two were engaging in a verbal waltz, trying to pry the other for information while avoiding confrontation themselves. Axel picked up on this interesting exchange yet lacked the skill to vocalize it in mere words.

"What if we die again?" Roxas quipped out, finding it hard to articulate such a daunting concern. "Then what do we become?"

Axel listlessly opened one eye and sat up straight once he saw how much his friend was upset by this previously posed question. Roxas posture had transformed from his usual brimming with confidence stance to that of a hunched over insecure misfit, trying to lose themselves within their own body.

Axel sauntered over to where his friend had set up temporary residency on the edge of the building.

"Don't see what that matters," Axel tried to answer non chalantly, attempting to mask his own trepidation over the question. "We're not going anywhere. We're practically invincible. Anyone crosses our path we kick their butt, right?"

"I suppose," Roxas murmured, averting his gaze and choosing to focus it on nothing in particular.

Axel situated himself next to his friend's perch. "Why do you worry about that stuff anyway?"

"Because we're nobodies..." Roxas answered curtly, like that three word answer would explain all, his voice trailing off into the uncanny abyss surrounding them.

"Um, yeah, I know that."

"No no," Roxas muttered, his face clouding over. "I mean, we're...nobodies. We're nothing. If we died, who would care? What becomes of us? Where do we go?"

"I imagine some place nice," Axel offered simplistically.

"Is that what you tell yourself before you go to sleep every night?" Roxas snipped. "Is that how you get through the day? Assuring there's someplace nice to go if that one fateful battle comes and you don't survive the fight?"

Axel closed his eyes and hung his head low, the only sign of defeat he ever showed, and only to his most trusted companions.

"We're not real," Axel choked out, barely audible. "We don't go to the same place as everyone else, I know that. But we must go somewhere."

"If we're not real then what are we?" Roxas persisted, growing more agitated by the minute. "What's our point? We take life, but we're not alive. We thrive off hearts, yet we have none to call our own. We're fueled by jealousy. We're envious of those who still posses a soul and are able to live their life. We react by trying to steal their happiness and bliss. What kind of an existence is that? Why do we have to make people miserable to be happy? Why can't we just leave them alone!"

The reverberations originating from Roxas' previous interrogation spree echoed violently off the walls of the buildings surrounding them. The anger in his voice was clearly evident as the last lingering sounds that ricocheted off the cold concrete.

Axel remained silent and refused to make eye contact, opting instead to stare coldly at his own black feet and feel his own despair slowly creeping over him.

"You still have a heart," he finally answered, his voice full of non-negotiable reassurance.

"No, I don't," Roxas responded firmly. "That's the problem."

"If you didn't have a heart why would you care about this stuff?"

Roxas blinked a couple times in uncertain response.

"Don't confuse me more Axel..." he murmured.

"I'm not trying to," the man insisted, flicking his hand in the stagnant air before him to dismiss the previous accusation. "It's not a fault that you have more things on your agenda than world domination, that human life holds some significant value to you."

"I didn't say that," Roxas muttered stubbornly.

"But it's what you're implying. It's what you're feeling."

Roxas glared at his friend for his accuracy.

After his anger subsided and he was left exhausted from his adrenaline rush, provoked by none other than the massive amount of emotion that was called forth to debate such a personal subject, Roxas slowly began to raise himself to his feet and slowly stagger off the roof top.

"We're nothing Axel. We thrive off the misery of others. What kind of an existence is that?"

Axel could have sworn he saw his friend's eyes glaze over momentarily but the tears were gone before he could gain any evidence of them.

"Our only goal in life is to steal the hearts and happiness of others. We don't even care for each other."

Axel remained silent in response to his friend's soliloquy, slowly digesting the harsh reality of Roxas' words that cut through the air like icy daggers, slowly gnawing away at his flippant exterior and cutting down to the truth of his being.

"If I died..." Roxas began, " one would miss me."

Axel wanted to respond, but the words that usually flowed so fluidly from his lips seemed to get lodged in his throat for reasons he couldn't quiet understand. He gazed at his friend, his crystal eyes oozing with sympathy and humanity, trying to communicate some sort of empathy towards the boy that had just stated the truth that had kept every soulful member of the Organization up at night.

Nothing came out. From his parched throat and dry lips, Axel could derive no words to comfort Roxas in his time of desperate need. He prayed fervently that his eyes and expression would suffice. But Roxas seemed to be temporarily blinded by his misery, for he made no sign of acknowledgment towards his comrade that was practically bleeding with silent emotion.

Roxas silently turned and began to descend the stairwell that led to the dank streets below. The door closed gently behind him, which provided the utmost contrast to his simmering anger. He slumped off, defeated, and Axel watched his blond head slowly diminish behind the glass paned window of the door as he slowly lingered down the stairs into darkness.

"That's not true," Axel croaked out, head hung in shame that his words came so late. "...I would."


Wooooie. Review. Tell me if I should make this a chapter story of leave it a one shot. I figured there was so much raw material available for how Roxas became what he was in the game, and the relationship between the two members was virtually untouched within the forty hours of gameplay. There was definitely something implied, that the two had some sort of a bond, and I can not believe they didn't stretch it out more into a sub plot within the sequel. I think they were the only two members that actually managed to maintain some sort of soul. Hmm, well, please review. It really does make my day.