A/N: ;D Pickles here. I just wanted to say a few things about this little sonata. I wanted to experiment with style, and decided to try this. If you didn't know I'm in band, you'll know after reading this. Each movement is titled with a song by Claude Debussy, all piano solos, that I thought were fitting. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Alsoooo please note that: this fanfiction was inspired by Peppermint Mocha and mine's ideas for a music video featuring the Zemyx relationship. It's going to be to Arise by E.S. Posthumus, which we found a rather fitting song. It's going to be filmed on May 8-10 at Anime Central in Rosemont, IL. We'll be running around in Zexion and Demyx cosplays, naturally. So... our little plotline was pretty much dancing in front of me, dancing in drag, and doing the hula. Yeah. It was tempting me.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Obviously. If I owned Kingdom Hearts, would I be writing fanfiction?
Movement One: Reflets dans L'eau--Reflections on the Water
It's only been three months since I've joined the Organization, but I can't stop this. It's like I'm repeating the same measures of a song over and over again. There is no first or second ending, just a repeat sign.
He's driving me insane.
His very posture speaks of mockery of me, his eyes empty, devoid of any semblance of feeling. He's a blank measure. I can't read him.
But I can't help but be even more curious. I want to inspect closer, see if there is a note I'm missing, just glancing over. Still nothing written on the staff but a bass and treble clef. Two empty staffs. Blank. His footsteps are a steady unbroken tempo like that of a metronome. One, two, three, four. Perfect four-four time.
I stood on the stairs, watching.
"Zexion?" I say, almost uncertainly.
"Yes?" smooth and even, melodic in a dark, secretive way.
"How was your mission in Hollow Bastion?"
"Better than yours in Wonderland," he replied with this smirk- one he can't realize is this infuriating.
I hated him then. Hated.
In a pathetic non-feeling sort of way.
The music switched to a more intense style, not furioso, but intense.
"Good morning to you too," I muttered. We parted ways, leaving me in a foul mood. Two pairs of chords, only one audible, the other dissonant in its silence, separating.
I went to my room, scowling.
That night I was plagued by incessant dreams of indigo eyes, and woke to Axel shaking me.
"The hell is wrong with you?" the fire-user spat, glaring at me, "You were screaming and fucking woke me up!"
I sat up slowly. I couldn't really remember the dream at all.
Axel probably thought I was just freaking out because I was still pretty new to the Organization, but in reality, I'd settled in pretty well. This wasn't because of that. I didn't know if it was an elusive past life, or… something else. Indigo eyes.
"I-I'm fine." Mysterioso. My heart, if I'd had one, would have been at least some allegro marking, a quick beat, panicked.
The next day I went to the library to see if there was anything about music theory- and there he was. Reading. Was that his Lexicon?
I immediately walked past him. His indigo eyes followed my every movement. Calculating and cold. I wanted to slam my head against something, he was making me so angry- and I didn't even know why. Mysterioso slid to a slightly faster tempo, the harmony growing richer tones.
And yet I couldn't hear his music.
I still hated him.
How could anyone hide themselves so easily?
I sighed on the train, the buildings in Twilight Town rushing past. I, of all people, had been sent to find him. I wasn't allowed to know what his mission was, what he was doing, nothing. No idea. He was in Twilight Town, and that was all I knew.
I got off in front of the small hole in the wall that led to the path to the abandoned mansion. I cautiously made my way through the forest. Moderato once again moved to mysterioso. It seemed to be a theme lately.
"Hello?" I called into the vast empty hall. I slowly went up the stairs to the left, and there was a scream of pain. The sound was like a cluster chord grating against my ears. I ran towards the door at the top and threw it open, and halted.
A fermata on a rest.
I waited for a cue to move during the grand pause.
His blood seemed to be staining everything in the room crimson.
The last traces of Neoshadow Heartless vanished. There was music on the staff now, as Zexion's eyes met mine. It was—I would never forget that look. Expressive, pensive, yet so full of pain. He dropped his Lexicon—an accent mark—and fell to the ground, a cascade of sound. There was still music playing. I darted over.
"Hey—hey, come on, let's—"
"No." A definitive answer. Marcato, tone defiant, molto sostenuto, determined.
"You're gonna bleed to death…"
"I deserve it," his hoarse reply was toneless, empty.
I couldn't hear the music anymore. It was gone.
"Well- I got sent after you, to get you back to the Castle, so that's what I'm gonna do." I helped him up, trying to avoid his wounds-deep gashes to his chest, his throat even-and opened a portal.
"Just-just get me to Vexen," he rasped sullenly. I helped him all the way there, the whole time listening for more music, but none came. The pen over the staff had stalled, not wanting to reveal more of the secret melody.
"Thank you," he said, but I knew he didn't mean a single word of the phrase.
"No problem," I said, meaning each word. My own tone was expressive, sure.
"What's his problem?" I spluttered at Axel and Roxas in the kitchen, exasperated. They gave each other this look. Like they just knew each other so well they didn't have to bother with skeptical words.
"He always acts like he's got something hard and covered in sandpaper shoved sideways up his ass," Axel shrugged, and Roxas nodded emphatically.
"But seriously!" I waved my arms trying to get across just how stupid this was. I sat on the counter, and they exchanged glances again.
"You like him?" Roxas said.
"Hate him!" I growled, opening a can of Moogle Pop Root Beer.
"So," Axel said smoothly, "You think you do."
"No, I really do!"
"Why?" Roxas asked.
"I get sent to bring him back to the Castle and he's completely just bleeding all over the place and he didn't appreciate it at all!" I sighed.
"You know he's not a Neophyte, right?" Axel said raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?" I asked.
"It means he's got to be one of the ones who helped make this sort of a 'life', right? He's probably partly responsible," Roxas said.
I sighed again.
"So you think he doesn't care because he blames himself?"
"Isn't that what logical people do?" Roxas said, a smirk just barely on his lips.
The next time I passed him in the hallway I heard he music again. That dark melody, haunting, mysterioso, yet so layered it was hard to discern in its beauty and how perfectly it blended.
His wounds had been bandaged, and I never would have known he was injured if it wasn't for the tight-lipped expression held precariously on his usually emotionless face.
I said nothing to him.
And then there was that day.
The day the music changed, took on an entirely new perspective. The day so much was shattered and lost, the day the full chords formed, the staff endlessly filled with notes ready, willing to speak.