What Ruins A Day
Roxas stared at the cloaked creature before him with interest. From afar, the thing certainly looked like a Heartless but, close up, it slightly resembled a hooded human. That is, until its hand emerged from its cloak, looking as if it had been left rotting in a pond for quite a long time. Curious as always, Roxas leaned closer to examine the scabbed, slimy appendage. There was no scent of decay, despite the appearance.
"Must not be dead then." Muttered Roxas, unconsciously going into his so-called 'thinking pose.' Behind him, Hermione gave a quiet whimper. She was cowering behind him, supporting a fainted Harry with surprising strength. Strength that seemed to be ebbing away by the second. Her knees seemed to be inching closer to the ground each moment that passed and her entire body was trembling.
Roxas looked backwards at the witch, confused. Was she getting tired of holding Harry? But, if that was it, why did she look… What did Luxord call it? Scared? Yes, that was it. Why did she look so scared? The blue-eyed Nobody voiced this question as his companion sank to the ground, strength gone.
"What's the matter, Hermione?" He asked turning away from their new friend and kneeling beside the witch. She didn't look at him; eyes locked on the cloaked being in front of them. Roxas looked between the two. "Has it… offended… you?"
This caught Hermione's attention. She tore her eyes off the Dementor, as he recalled it was named, and stared at him, eyes wide. Her mouth moved as if she had something to say, but Roxas could hear no words. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head.
"What was that?" Hermione shook her head, more in amazement than in answer. Roxas blinked, still puzzled, and sat back on his heels. He looked back towards the Dementor, whose hood was faced towards him. Try as he might, Roxas could not see anything in the shade that covered the creature's face. Giving up, the Nobody looked back at Hermione. She blinked before opening her mouth again. Words emerged this time.
"A-Are… Can't… Can't you… remember something?" This added more questions to Roxas's thoughts rather than answer any. He formed his thinking pose once again.
"Er… I remember a lot of things… What memory do you want me to remember?" For some reason, the image of a girl with brown-red hair lying motionless on the ground flashed through his head. Not something from Roxas's memories, as far as he knew. Was that what Hermione was talking about? Did she see the girl too?
"Y-You don't… remember anything b-bad?" Hermione asked, still looking at him. Roxas opened him mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a cold, slimy hand touching the back of his neck. Greatly puzzled, the blue-eyed Nobody turned to look at the offending appendage.
"Um… Why is it touching me?" He asked, watching the hand move from his neck to his arm. The Dementor plucked at his sleeve, its hooded head tilting sideways as it examined the black material of his uniform. Hermione didn't answer his question. Instead her eyes widened and she stared at the hooded creature. Roxas tried to match her expression to an emotion he recognized. Horror?
Silently, they watched the creature examine Roxas's cloak. When it finished, about two minutes later, it moved on to inspecting Roxas's face and hair. Mostly his hair. Rather bored now, Roxas settled his chin onto his hand, propping himself up on his raised knee. Suddenly, he yelped. Hermione jumped as Roxas fell forwards, rubbing his head.
"Why'd you go and do that?" He demanded, unknowing of whether or not the Dementor could understand him, as he rubbed a small bald spot on his head. The demented creature sniffed the hair clutched in its hand. Unimpressed with the lack of scent, it dropped the locks, which caught on a breeze and wandered away.
Grumbling, Roxas gave up on trying to sooth the burning patch of skin on his head and narrowed his eyes at the Dementor. It made a wheezy, rasping sound—rather like a sick man exhaling his last breath—and leaned forward. It reached over to its target of interest once more, decaying fingers coming closer to Roxas's cloak. It stopped suddenly, tilting its head at the giant key that was now pointed at its chest.
"No, thanks. Your pulling of my hair is disagreeable. I don't want you to do it again." Roxas said, allowing the Dementor to peer at his weapon. The creature made another wheezing noise and tilted its hooded head up to stare at his face. It had, apparently, realized that he was pointing something dangerous at it. And it did not agree that this was a smart idea.
The Dementor lunged forward swiftly, taking Roxas by surprise. He fell backwards onto the dirt with a soft 'thud.' His attacker's slimy fingers made to grab a hold on his throat. With a soft grunt, Roxas kicked the creature backwards and dived towards it; his Keyblade in front of him.
Somewhere—several feet behind him—Hermione screamed. Her screech seemed to have distracted the Dementor. It paused for a split second to glance at her before turning back to its new prey. Too late, however. The Keyblade protruding from its cloaked back attested to this. All sound suddenly silenced itself for three long seconds.
The Dementor fell back slowly, pulling the Keyblade—and, in turn, Roxas—along with it. It landed with a soft thump and lay unmoving. Roxas shook his head to clear it as he yanked his weapon out of the dead creature's back. Sticky, black blood made this task extremely difficult. Remember once more the emotion of 'annoyance,' Roxas stepped on the Dementor and pulled. His blade came free with a disgusting squelch.
"Well that battle didn't last too long…" Muttered Roxas to himself, flicking black gunk from his Keyblade. When it was clear that he was having no luck in doing so, the blue-eyed Nobody decided to save cleaning the weapon for later and dismissed it. He turned to Hermione, who was cowering on the ground behind him, clutching Harry's robe for dear life. Her eyes were opened enormously wide, locked on the dead Dementor. Roxas blinked slowly, remembering something important. "Oh yeah… Sorry about killing it, Hermione. I know you'd rather it go to that 'prison' of yours…"
A coughed-up laugh was his response at first. Then his friend closed her eyes and shook her head.
"That's… quite alright, Roxas." Replied Hermione after a second. "I don't think it's possible to cage these things… Of course… I didn't think it was possible to kill them either… Oh, it is a good thing that Harry was already fainted!"
"It is a good thing that Harry is passed out?"
"Well… No… Not exactly… I mean… That's not what I meant!" Hermione sighed, standing up slowly as she readjusted her grip on the boy in question. She looked around nervously once she was back on her feet. "Let's get going, Roxas. Who knows how long it'll take for more to arrive?"
"Hm?" Roxas looked up from where he had been kneeling, his hand close to the Dementor's hood. "Oh. Alright then."
He stood, brushing invisible flecks of dust off of his uniform, and walked over to Hermione. Together they set off towards the castle. Neither noticed the blindfolded figure tracking their every movement.
Alright, so it's very short and it has been a while since I've updated. Kingdom Hearts is beginning to lose my interest and this story along with it. Unless I get some sort of inspiration, I'm probably going to wrap this up in the next couple of chapters. I'll never leave you hanging! Perhaps it won't have a great plot or whatever, but I'm not going to just give up. I'll have Roxas go home or something. Unless the previous mentioned inspiration comes along. Sorry.