Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.

Pairing: Zexion/Larxene (Ienzo/Arlene), onesided?

A/N: I have NO idea where this came from.

I actually wrote this a long time ago and forgot about it. So here it is.


"I am sorry."

"Why?"

"I inconvenienced you with my complaints."

"Don't be sorry. I made you tell me."

"No. If I told you, it means I subconsciously wanted you to know. That is unforgivable."

"You're not going to hurt yourself, are you?"

"If you tell me not to, I won't."

It was all in the name of science. In a fit of hopelessness, the young Ienzo had stumbled upon a darkly charming man who promised him purpose. It didn't matter, of course, if the science hurt Ienzo. Ienzo didn't care; no one told him to stop. No one was concerned. Ienzo was never one to seek out attention, but deep down, maybe Ienzo wanted to be saved. He wanted someone to tell him to stop. It isn't worth it. You can achieve more than that. You don't have to hurt yourself.

Ienzo was waiting for her to tell him to stop.

He had no reason to stop. He wanted this. He wanted to do whatever Xehanort told him to do. If Xehanort told him to do it, it was important, and because it was important, he was important. Ienzo was thrilled to have found a purpose among the boredom of life. Wasting away, letting his remarkably high intellect rot inside his head, Ienzo discovered a way to feel accomplished, and although he returned with gashes and bruises and the like, it was always worth it.

But he wanted to stop. Somewhere in his mind sat a golden-haired woman, smiling a hollow smile, eyes empty and lifeless but lying to him all the same. The woman was the most important thing to Ienzo in the world – in all the worlds. She was before intellect, before purpose, and before Xehanort.

He was waiting for her to tell him to stop.

Ienzo didn't like talking to people. He lived in a different world. His whole life Ienzo saw himself and the path in front of him – people blocking the path were merely hindrances. Other people did not matter. Other people could not possibly give him compassion or love, and he didn't want it from them. He wanted it from her.

She was his mother, his sister, his best friend, his lover – it didn't matter who she was. She listened when he spoke, she held his hand when he was afraid, and she wrapped her arms around him when he cried. She took all of his sadness, his anger, his hatred, and she gave him happiness.

Ienzo never held her hand when she was afraid. He never held her when she cried. She didn't cry and she was never afraid. She was strong and nonchalant, a warrior carved from ice and coated in stone. Nothing could melt the ice because nothing could get to it. Not even Ienzo.

If there was ever a person he wanted to give everything to, it was her. But she didn't want his everything.

She would listen, smile, hold, and speak her pretty poison, but she would never love or feel. She was herself and only herself. She was a strong woman who needed nothing else. She never pretended to love Ienzo, and Ienzo never asked her to love him. He gave her all the petty crises that cluttered his day and she listened. She gave nothing of herself and Ienzo gave all he was.

Ienzo gave her his heart.

"You're not going to hurt yourself, are you?" It was full of light amusement and condescension. It was not concerned, it was not caring. It was dismissing.

"If you tell me not to, I won't."

The silence was the end. The silence was the answer Ienzo had wanted all his life. He was happy. He was angry. And then he didn't feel anything.

When Xehanort took his heart away, Ienzo didn't miss it. He didn't give it a second thought. He emptied his mind of all memories and was content. He existed, he had a purpose for existing, and he could no longer be weighed down by emotions. He had a purpose, but he no longer needed one.

One day his memories came flooding back as that woman passed him in the halls of Castle Oblivion. She looked at him and he looked at her. She was different; her hair was cut shorter and her eyes were rigid with that same ice that must have filled her to the core. Ienzo – now Zexion – didn't know how she was found or why she was there, but he never thought about it again.

That cold woman who gave him happiness and refused to accept anything in return lost her heart, and Zexion was curious to know who held the honor of receiving that which he never even glimpsed. But, of course, it didn't matter. She didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter how hard he tried; he could not summon up the memories of the emotions he once had.

Being held, being comforted...all of it belonged to Ienzo. Zexion could never grasp it. It was gone. She was gone. He gave her his heart, and now here they were, heartless and meaningless. Zexion did what Xemnas told him to and Larxene kept her distance, doing what she wanted. There was no holding, no comforting. She was still heartless and he was still empty. It was as though nothing had ever changed.

All because the one word needed was never heard.

"Are you going to die, Larxene?"

"If you tell me not to, I won't."