Chapter Text
The bed shifted, dipping down beside Roxas’s legs and progressing upwards towards his arms. The soft rustling of clothes drew his attention enough to crack one eye open – making out a silhouette in the pre-dawn blue of the morning laying itself down next to him. Quietly, as if not wanting to disturb him.
Roxas quickly pantomimed sleep once more, the sensation of foreign heat hovering between him and his bedroom invader. There was no way in hell he was letting Sora wake him up at stupid-o’-clock in the morning for one of his talks again. He was done – absolutely and 100% over it. Physically, emotionally, and every other ‘-lly’ his brain could summon up.
There was never any kind of resolution to these conversations; no answers – only a mounting pile of conjecture and questions. Which cemented six years of this routine as a permanent fixture in Roxas’s slice of life, God bless Sora’s verbal-processing soul.
Slowly, the wheels in Roxas’s brain began to turn with memories, fueled by his frustration. If he could have glared at his mind he would have; feeling the sweet haze of sleep clear from his mind. God damn it.
As if sensing the change as well, the figure nestled closer – the brush of soft spikes against Roxas’s forehead tickling ever so slightly. “Hey.” Came the verbal nudge, barely a whisper.
Irritation prickled across the blond’s nerves as he let out an unintelligible grumble, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He didn’t want to talk. He wasn’t good at talking. Why did Sora always go to him of all people? Why couldn’t he just text someone like Kairi or freaking Namine, who would love to pick his brain? Being a twin was a curse sometimes.
“I had that dream again.” Sora continued softly, absolutely ignoring his brother’s lack of interest.
Silence. That was the best way to get him to go away and get back to sleep, Roxas determined.
“I wonder what it means?” Sora pressed on. “It started out sort of the same as it always does. We’re together on that island, just talking – he told me about the dreams of dolphins this time.”
Roxas could hear the smile in his brother’s voice as Sora paused.
“They dream in sounds and colors and emotions, but not in the same way you or I would with images. It was all like… like oil paintings in the rain or those kaleidoscope viewers we had as kids… watching pinwheels in the wind. But not just seeing it. It was feeling the rotations with your skin, understanding the meaning behind each color. There was so much understanding, Rox. I just felt like I knew things like it was obvious even though they don’t make any sense now. It was so nice and simple. And when I looked down, he was holding my hand and it felt the same. He’s just so… peaceful. Warm.” Sora finished with a sigh, wrapped up in a cloud of daydreams that Roxas could physically feel smothering him.
Resignedly, Roxas unburied his face from his pillow and peered at his twin. “Yeah?” He prompted tiredly, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.
The sky was a little lighter now, illuminating the edges of Sora’s face. His eyes were soft, mouth lopsided in a smitten grin that he probably didn’t realize he was making. God, his brother had it bad. For a dream-guy no less… Literally.
“I can still feel his hand, Roxas. I think maybe he was trying to tell me something.” The brunette confessed as if there were some sort of secret contained within the sentence. Which, despite his reservations at being woken up at such an hour, struck Roxas as hilarious. The only person who thought his infatuation was a secret was Sora, himself. Everyone knew Sora was head-over-heels for someone, even if they didn’t know who.
Roxas snorted. “Just admit you’re projecting and want him to confess his undying love for you.” He didn’t need light to know that Sora had gone bright red.
“I-I’m not projecting!” He protested quickly, drawing his hand up to his chest to hold it protectively. To guard the place where his string would be if only either of them could see it.
“Mmm..” The blond hummed, yawning as he took his brother’s hand in his own, tracing Sora’s pinky with gentle strokes. “So,” He murmured, feeling nothing there – just as he had the last one hundred times he’d checked, “when are you going to tell mom and dad that your soulmate only exists in REM?”
“Rox!” Sora exclaimed, shoving him away flusteredly and ending up shoving part of the comforter into his brother’s face.
“It’s true!” Roxas teased, shoving it back as his body began to wake up at the prospect of a challenge, the gears of his consciousness clicking into place.
Sora flipped himself over, propping himself up with his elbows as he gave his twin a look. “Oh, right. What would I say? ‘Hey, dad – I’ve been having dreams about this guy for forever and I think my string’s connected to his even though as far as I know, he doesn’t exist in reality? Sorry, mom; I know you wanted grandkids but the person I like is a guy and, oh yeah – you’ll probably think he’s a figment of my imagination?’”
Roxas grinned up at him. “Sounds good to me.”
Sora gawfed and shoved Roxas’s spare pillow into his face. “You’re no help.” He complained.
The blond sprung into action and leapt blindly towards his brother’s location, tackling him in a tangle of sheets as the pillow fell away. “Says the guy who woke me up!” Roxas taunted, straddling his twin as Sora tried to twist away – the brunette’s hand darting out for a weapon even as a grin lit up his face.
“I make your life interesting!” Sora protested with a yelp as Roxas smacked a pillow into his face admonishingly.
“You make it loud!” Whack.
“Lazy!” Sora defended, snatching the other pillow and beating it against his brother in turn.
“Annoying!” Whack.
“Mean!” Whack.
“Stubborn!” Whack.
“Pessimist!” Whack.
“Overzealous cupcake!” Whack!
“What?!” Sora demanded, choking on a laugh as his eyes lit up with delight. “What the heck is that, you Chocobo-styling fishbowl!” He stuffed the pillow into Roxas’s face with renewed vigor.
Roxas gave an offended cry, batting it away. “Leave my hair out of this, you great sunbathing gremlin!”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Sora stuck his tongue out at him for a split second before warding off another blow to the face. “Don’t be jealous you Pale-faced potato!” He shot back, grinningly wildly.
Whack!
“We have the same face, you uneducated Troglodyte!” Roxas laughed, about to deliver another smack to his twin when Sora bucked him off, sending them tumbling off the bed and onto the floor with a resounding, Thud!
The world was silent for a few seconds as both boys froze, ears straining to hear the sound of their parent’s footsteps coming down the hall to scold them and dole out some punishment. Yet several more moments of hushed breathing passed… and nothing. They let out a collective sigh of relief.
Oh God, how he hated hardwood in bedrooms, Roxas thought miserably as he rolled away from Sora with a wince, rubbing the back of his skull. And mornings. Ugh.
He glanced down at his brother who had elected to remain sprawled on the ground, staring up at the ceiling in apparent contentedness.
“Oi. Dreamscape.” Roxas called, nudging him with his leg unceremoniously. “You’re gonna meet him one day.” He said with as brotherly a smile as he could muster. Sora didn’t do well with deep-thinking, he’d come to learn. Nevertheless, things always tended to work themselves out one way or the other. And no matter how strange this situation was… he had to believe that this whole debacle would follow suit. Eventually.
Sora rolled his head to the side to regard Roxas thoughtfully. “You will, too, one day.” He nudged back with a smile.
“You know I’m morally obligated to complain about how gross the two of you will be from the sounds of him, right?” Roxas couldn’t help but tease, smirking as the sun finally began to crest over the hills and bask his room in a soft glow.
“Not him,” Sora argued with a shake of his head. “I mean your soulmate. I know you don’t believe they exist but I just know that’s not true. There’s someone out there who’s perfect for you, Rox. I know it.” The brunette said, a strange amount of conviction in his tone.
The mood shifted immediately as Roxas’s smirk faded into a tired, placating, half-smile. The sort that was full of condolences and half-truths and never meant to be anything more than surface pretenses for other’s sakes. “Yeah.” He said hollowly. “You’re right.”
He could see that Sora knew what he was doing, but didn’t know how to call him out on it without making Roxas distance himself even more. He knew he was a frustrating person. He knew he did this to himself and placed everyone else within very careful boundaries… and then punished them if they tried to get closer – especially when it was ‘for his own good.’
It wasn’t fair; he knew that. But it was safe. Defined. Predictable. Forcing those around him to dance on eggshells had simply become a facet of his personality he didn’t know how to shut off. Sometimes he outright relied on it. It gave him an escape from the creeping void he could feel swallowing his thoughts at night. The loneliness. The questions.
Roxas let out a sigh. He didn’t want any more questions in his life; didn’t want to deal with any of this. So he picked himself up off the floor with a grunt, stretching his arms over his head till he heard his back pop. “Eggs Benedict?” He asked, raising a brow.
“Pancakes.” Sora responded defiantly from the floor as if his current position was an active form of protest.
“French Toast.” Roxas countered with narrowed eyes.
“Waffles.” Sora argued.
“Waffles with strawberries and cream.” Roxas held out his hand.
Heaving a great sigh, Sora puffed his bangs out of his eyes and took the truce, clambering to his feet with great theatrics. “Why must you make everything so complicated?” He groaned with mock annoyance.
“Comes with the package. I was on a buy-one, get-one free deal with Mad Skills and Complexity. You’ll learn to appreciate my genius one day.”
“Fiiiiine.” Sora sang, his expression brightening once again as he skipped playfully to the door. “But I want blueberries!” He demanded before bolting down the hall and thundering downstairs like it was some sort of race.
Somewhere further down the hall a door shut – signaling parental movements.
He huffed in pretend exasperation even though there was no one there to appreciate such dramatics. Leave it to Sora to go and wake their parents up at the last second.
Of course.
Rolling his eyes, Roxas grabbed his cell phone and strode after his brother.
Portraits cluttered up the hallway walls in straight lines, like a museum of unnatural history. The stoic faces of acrylics eventually gave way to colorless photography, then candid Polaroid’s in washed out sepias. And finally, most recently, at the end of a series of brightly colored pictures, his and his brother's.
They were seated formally in their family’s shrine for tradition’s sake, dressed in garish ceremonial robes with their palms on their knees. Sora’s goofy 13-year old grin beamed at the camera; thrilled to carry on the proud Cetra bloodline beside his brother. But Roxas couldn’t bring himself to smile that day. Sometimes he still didn’t know how to feel about it.
A wave of annoyance washed through him. That was a lie. He knew exactly how he felt about it. Why did he bother lying to himself of all people? Unimpressed with his own train of thoughts, Roxas pushed away the memories and continued downstairs, habitually avoiding the squeaky points in the old staircase. Not that it mattered now.
Sora was already hovering over his tablet, scrolling through their schedule as his leg jogged restlessly against the floor. “There’s a couple coming from Radiant Garden today.” He informed cheerfully, never once lifting his eyes from the device.
Roxas hummed noncommittally as he pulled open the refrigerator door and began rummaging inside for ingredients – inspecting the blueberries critically before loading up on his chosen items.
“Aww! Says they’ve been together for 6 years already and they just want to go the extra mile! That’s so sweet…” Sora cooed, smiling happily.
“You want blueberries in the pancakes or as a reduction?” The blond asked, holding up a saucepan pointedly.
Sora blinked up at him several times before looking humorously confused as his eyes narrowed and his mouth popped open in silent query. “Uh…”
“Syrup.” His brother elaborated, waiting.
“Hey! You should do chocolate chips! The mini ones!” Sora suddenly cheered.
“As a syrup?” Roxas demanded indignantly , raising his brows.
The idea only seemed to thrill Sora more.
“Both! I want them inside and as a chocolate syrup! Oh my God, I need it Rox. Please.” He begged, smacking his hands down on the counter dramatically. “I’m wasting away here.”
“Sora, anybody who makes that much noise going down the stairs couldn't possibly be wasting away.” Roxas corrected, amused. “You’re a freaking elephant.”
Sora groaned and slumped forward, his arms fully extended across the counter now. “Rooooox…” He began to moan when a musical Ding! interrupted his protest. Straightening with interest, Sora turned his gaze to the tablet in front of him, his eyes going a bit wide. “Rox,” he said more softly than before. “it’s for you.”
Before Roxas could respond, a shuffling from the staircase drew the twins’s attention as they watched their father meander towards them. “I heard something about elephants?” He mumbled, looking mostly towards Roxas for clarification, who simply pointed to Sora as explanation.
The brunette put on his best cheesetastic grin, beaming unapologetically up at the man who he’d woken up.
Cloud grunted in understanding and began scooping coffee beans into the grinder methodically.
Roxas admired that about his dad – he was never one for unnecessary chatter, and he didn’t mince words when he did speak. But most importantly, he let Sora and Roxas be themselves without judgment. For the most part.
“Dad,” Sora called, turning his tablet around for the other two to see. “Roxas got a request.” He hopped off the barstool and came around to the other side to stand beside his twin. “It’s on our private line.”
Cloud’s brows furrowed deeply as he turned on the monstrously loud grinder and strode over, opening the request as Roxas hovered beside him, intrigued to read along as well.
And he would have; if it weren’t written in some bizarre language that made absolutely no sense.
Roxas frowned at the nonsensical arrangement of symbols, trying to detect patterns and unravel its meaning, but the only thing he could recognize was the little golden tag at the top that marked it as Roxas’s. Even the sender’s identity was unintelligible. He glanced at Sora who shrugged helplessly, then waited for their dad to shed some light on the mysterious thing.
Why code? Was something wrong? The blond might have suspected his grandparents, considering their obsession with ancient traditions and honoring historical nonsense. But why use it to put in a request for him when they could just call? Or message Roxas personally?
He shoved his hands into his pockets, lips drawing into a thin line as his mind drifted. Maybe using the phone was beneath his relatives now. It honestly wouldn’t surprise him.
After a few more minutes, Cloud took a deep breath and tapped to reply; starting his response in another bizarre set of symbols as he spoke, “It’s from Reno-”
“Your ghost buddy?” Sora interrupted, intrigued, somehow able to recall such an obscure name in an instant. It impressed Roxas a little bit every time. Sora had an unbelievable memory for people’s names and faces.
Cloud nodded, still typing away as the grinder shut off. “Apparently his son has attracted the attention of powerful spirit. Its tethered onto his string and they can’t exorcise it without harming Axel. They’re hoping you can help, Roxas.”
Something vague conjured itself in Roxas’s mind at the name, but he couldn’t place it. It didn’t really matter though. He’d be going into work for the first time in ages. However much he resented his abilities, he looked forward to the change of pace from staying at home and idling his time.
Roxas didn’t like being the shadow. The other twin. Swept under a rug or stowed away in a dark corner like some shameful thing. He’d had enough of being treated less simply because fate had decided to deal him a hateful hand.
“It’s across town.” Cloud continued, pulling up Google Maps and typing in an address Roxas didn’t recognize. “You’ll have to take-”
“Fenrir?” Roxas interrupted, looking exceptionally hopeful.
His father sighed deeply. “The bus?” he corrected, giving his blond son a look before turning his attention back to the screen.
Roxas deflated a bit, but it wasn’t all that unexpected. His mom would probably ground him till he was 30 if he took his dad’s motorcycle anywhere simply by virtue of being ‘the baby’. He mumbled a complaint under his breath as he resumed preparations for breakfast.
Roxas was definitely vetoing the 'choclify everything' route Sora obviously craved. Even for him, there was a limit to how much he was willing to bend to Sora’s whims. His spacecase brother was getting blueberries whether he wanted them or not. He could throw on whatever weird toppings he wanted later.
“Can Axel see ghosts, too?” Sora interrogated, hopping onto the counter and swinging his legs back and forth.
Cloud hummed in affirmation, not pausing in his typing.
“That’s so cool! I wish I could see ghosts! Think of how cool it’d be to meet people from all different time periods and be able to ask them questions and stuff. Or go on missions to find things and deliver final messages so they can move on! Or, like, when mansions get all creepy and haunted with bad ghosts I could be like, ‘Who you gonna call?’” Sora sang excitedly, waving cheeky finger-guns at his twin.
Rolling his eyes, Roxas whisked together the batter as his skillet came to temperature. “On that note, let us all be grateful that you can’t see ghosts, Sor.”
However, Sora was in too good a mood to be daunted. “Maybe Axel needs a sidekick?” He suggested, grinning widely.
“Most unhelpful sidekick who ever lived, maybe.” Roxas snorted.
“That’s not true! I bet I could-” Sora gasped suddenly, “Hey! What if I could tie the strings of ghosts and help them find love, too?! They could spend eternity together!” His voice pitched upwards several octaves in delight – eyes wide and gleaming at the prospect.
“I… think that would cause more problems than it’d help.” Roxas muttered dubiously as he poured the first batch of blueberry pancakes onto the griddle.
“True love, Rox! Augh! If only I could see ghosts!” the brunette cried dramatically, flailing in place for effect.
Roxas kept his mouth shut, watching the corners of the batter begin to bubble faintly. It was no use telling his twin that concepts like ‘true love’ weren’t real. Not to mention love, itself, was little more than chemicals and fate bubbling over into a reaction.
To be honest, it felt like something that was meant to be out of humanity’s hands. Messing with it like Sora did… Roxas couldn’t help but feel like his brother was asking for trouble. Disappointment. Heartache, even.
He flipped the pancakes over as his father handed the tablet back to Sora. “I texted you their address and let them know you’re coming.” Cloud informed Roxas, pouring himself a mug of black tar masquerading as coffee. “Do what you have to while you’re there; take as much time as you need. But if you can’t separate them with the string, be upfront about it.” He counseled. “This sounds pretty serious. Reno’s a good friend of the family so I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
Roxas felt his father’s eyes staring into the back of his head and mumbled an acknowledgement. He knew he was one person when he was at home with Sora, and a different person when he was out on his own in the world; and unfortunately his family knew it.
Being a ‘problem child’ had started from a frighteningly young age. When he’d hurt the people closest to him.
He couldn’t help seeing.
There were strings everywhere.
Lax, taut, broken, braided, corded, twisted; red, red strings caught in an invisible wind. Some smelled like leather and others like citrus, while flowers blossomed on some and bells hung off others. Different. All of them unique and fascinating.
He’d only wanted to touch them. To play with one. And no string had looked more beautiful to Roxas than his parent’s.
It had been a simple string in comparison to others he’d sometimes see while he was out with his family: Thin, with five small cords twisting together. It gave off the scent of summer in the ethereal breeze that Roxas never understood. And it felt like home.
He loved hooking it between his fingers as he sat between his parents, pretending to make patterns with it between his hands. Cats Cradle, his mother had once called it.
His parents hadn’t known what he was. They’d assumed he was just like Sora; a Cetra miracle. If they’d known, Roxas doubted they would have let him near them.
And all too easily, just like that – it happened.
Roxas untied their father’s string, simply wanting more to play with. And in that horrible moment, everything changed.
Like a gun had gone off, his father had launched to his feet – staring at his mother with horror etched across his face. In the same moment, his mother started wailing as she snatched at the bits of string still tangled between Roxas’s fingers.
Her desperation terrified him as she threw herself beside his father, frantically working to tie the string back on – her sobs a frantic jumble of denial. But no matter how she tried, how dedicatedly she worked, the string would not reattach.
And then it shrank. Limp and lifeless as it retracted towards his mother like a shriveling thing till it was nothing more than a broken keepsake. Not a tether. Not the artery of fate.
Just a shred of something that could never be replaced.
He’d lost his parents that day. And he’d lost his identity along with them.
Roxas had watched his father, who couldn’t see the string, fall out of love with his mother. And his mother descend into a sorrow that didn’t leave her eyes. They’d stayed together for his and Sora’s sakes, but it was a strange sham of a thing. Not separated, yet thoroughly divorced. The memories of caring for one another overshadowed by a disconnect that couldn’t be breached.
It was hard to justify notions like ‘True Love’ when hearts could so easily be broken.
Roxas all but shoved a fresh plateful of pancakes over to Sora who let out a victorious, whoop! before gathering up topping items. Namely butter, whipped cream, various syrups, and chocolate chips.
How his twin wasn’t the size of an elephant by now, Roxas was couldn't fathom.
In either case, ever since that day, he’d no longer been a Cetra miracle. That much… he supposed he could understand. He hated himself, too, for what he’d done. But instead of being a target for blame he’d simply become invisible. The family didn’t talk about him at gatherings. He was no longer allowed to serve in their family’s shrine. No one contacted him or came to visit. His punishment, if it could even be called that, was to be left alone. Not for what he’d done, but for who he was.
The treatment had confused him at first; then it had been a relief that no one hated him. He’d even been grateful! Eager to endear himself to his family once more.
It didn’t take long to recognize that no one would come close to him any longer.
So he distanced himself from them so they wouldn’t have to.
Then they would speak only to Sora.
So Roxas hid in order not to interrupt the good mood.
And all too soon he realized that no one knew him. And perhaps worse; no one cared to.
He knew his power wasn’t supposed to exist. That the last time it had cropped up in their family’s history it had wreaked havoc as well. The Red String was supposed to be unbreakable. Eternal. Tethering souls through multiple lifetimes. And yet here he was.
He’d lost himself in his attempts to be good – to be whatever they wanted from him. Having his best intentions backfire, his hopes and longing, watching everyone but Sora drift away... it created a great rift between Roxas and the rest of the world. And the more it hurt him, the farther he pushed people away.
Roxas served up the last of the pancakes, grabbing a couple for himself in a napkin as he tromped back upstairs to get dressed.
It didn’t seem like a formal summons… and he didn’t exactly feel like putting on the ridiculously ceremonial robes his family preferred at gatherings. Especially not when he was riding the bus. He rifled through his closet a bit before giving up and grabbing one of his comfiest outfits. While strangely fashionable, it usually did the job of warding off unnecessary conversations with its punk, checkered vibe. But what made it his favorite were the layers – their weight and warmth gave him the feeling of security. Hidden away while obviously being seen. Like armor.
Shrugging them on between bites of breakfast, Roxas spared himself a glance in the mirror. The rays of dawn turning the tufts of his hair into a pale halo.
What… would they see when they saw him? A cursed Cetra? Would they keep him at arm’s distance like his family? Part of him wondered how much they knew about him since they’d obviously requested him for his abilities. If he could make this right… if he could help whats-his-face… maybe his family would begin treating him differently.
His eyes suddenly narrowed into a sharp glare at himself. What did he care? It wasn’t like he was trying to win them over anymore. It was stupid.
Shoving his feet into his shoes, Roxas strode downstairs once more, grabbing his skateboard from the closet as he went. “See ya!” He called unceremoniously as he unlocked the door.
“Keep us updated!” Cloud called back just before the door slammed shut.
Tossing his skateboard out in front of him, Roxas put in his earbuds and sped down the sidewalk without glancing back.
An hour later, the blond stepped off a worn looking greyhound bus, holding his skateboard at his side. It was an old neighborhood filled with modest brick houses and manicured yards, each side of the road flanked by old trees casting shade.
He scrunched his nose as he checked Google Maps once more just to be sure. Yup. This was definitely the place.
Weird.
Taking in a breath, Roxas proceeded to skate his way down the next few blocks, even further into the community. He supposed he’d been expecting some Victorian mansion or haunted house. Or perhaps some sort of gated off shrine like his own family possessed. Not a… He glanced around as the wind whipped his bangs out of his eyes... retirement community. Maybe the ghost-business wasn’t anything like what he’d previously thought?
Roxas couldn’t help but grin slightly. Sora would be so disappointed.
A small jingle sang cheerily from his phone as he rounded the corner, indicating that he’d arrived at his destination, as a true mansion loomed from seemingly out of nowhere – forcing Roxas to a halt.
It was almost church-like in shape with a tall steeple in the center and spires at the corner. The circular window at the top was stained glass, and were those cast iron gates…? Roxas shook his head, bewildered. One moment it was looking like a cathedral and the next a mortuary. Of course, it was hard to come to any conclusions at this distance with the 10ft stone fence blocking most of his view. He couldn’t help but wonder how such a house had stayed hidden from sight for so long.
“Right.” He breathed to himself, swallowing as he picked up his skateboard and walked the rest of the way with as much ‘proper composure’ as he could manage. The gates were even larger than he’d expected up close and he could now see a topiary garden lining the path to the door within.
Glancing around, he couldn’t find any sort of call button. There wasn’t even a mailbox! Unsure of what to do, Roxas gently pressed against the iron and to his surprise, it gave way without so much as a creak. Was this trespassing? He checked his phone once more, making a face. This was definitely the place but…
He stepped inside with a bit of reluctance, surveying the yard suspiciously. Something felt off.
“Yo! Blondie!” A voice called out, startling Roxas out of his thoughts.
He whirled to see a lanky figure leaning up against the stone wall, watching him with a cat-like grin. More than his devilish expression, however, the jutting red spikes that served as his hair distracted Roxas even more.
“Yo?” Roxas questioned, frowning for good measure. Some sort of groundskeeper?
The man waved his hand dismissively. “You get around my dad too much and some things just rub off. You must be the kid who cuts strings.” He announced, standing up straight.
The blond squared off with him, placing one hand on his hip as he quickly took hold of the situation. “And you must be the son who’s possessed by a ghost.” He countered.
“The name’s Axel.” The tall figure introduced, pointing to his temple in a manner that seemed vaguely threatening. “Got it memorized?”
Roxas rolled his eyes then belatedly remembered his father’s words about being on his best behavior and cleared his throat. “Right, fine. Axel. I need to meet with your dad.” He prompted, turning away and heading for the massive double-doors of the manor.
Quick footsteps sounded behind him as Axel jogged up to the blond, still grinning. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to introduce yourself, dummy?” The redhead lamented. “And to think I waited outside for you all this time. Talk about harsh.”
He was about to growl something about how he didn’t ask for anyone to wait for him but held his tongue. Best behavior. Roxas repeated the words like a mantra inside his skull as he glanced at the redhead beside him. Up close, Roxas could see two thin purple markings – tattoos? – striking down both of Axel’s cheeks. Was that supposed to make him look more… mystical or something? If anything, it made him look more wild.
Axel turned his gaze in his direction, as if he’d heard the thought and liked it. “See something you like?” He teased.
Roxas grunted in annoyance, watching the gravel pass beneath his feet as he stepped up to the main porch. None of this really mattered. He was just a passing curiosity to these people it seemed. “Roxas.” He answered evenly, reaching out to the knocker out of habit despite having Axel with him.
Suddenly the redhead was close, tilting Roxas’s chin upward with a hand to meet his vulpine gaze. “I wasn’t complaining, Roxy.” He purred.
For a moment Roxas’s eyes went wide.
Was this guy… flirting with him?
His heart lurched at the notion and he briefly thought he might have a panic attack. Instead, he did the only reasonable thing and shoved the end of his skateboard into Axel’s stomach.
Axel immediately crumpled over with a wheeze, clutching at his ribs in pain. “What the-?” He gasped out, looking completely bewildered. For which, Roxas instantly felt terrible, caught between the desire to apologize and run away.
So he did both.
“Oh God, I’m sorry! I just -!” He spewed, his hand halting halfway between them in indecision before the panic took over and he threw himself inside the house like a protective barrier.
Best behavior! Best fucking behavior!! His mind screamed at him.
Was he fucking mad? He’d just assaulted the guy whom he’d come here to help! Oh God. Roxas clutched his skateboard to his chest protectively as a door slam snapped his attention upwards to the top of the banister.
Another figure with alarmingly red hair stood at the top, looking surprised to see him standing in the entrance. “Roxas!” He greeted, a groan slipping from him as he sighed at the ceiling. “Cloud has you getting up way too early, yo! Guess some things never change.” He muttered sadly.
The man strode down the luxury staircase with a casual air of ownership that left Roxas wondering if everyone in this family lived at their own bizarre pace.
“Glad you could make it!” He added, slapping Roxas on the shoulder with a friendly smile. “I'm Reno, your dad's an old pal of mine - you definitely got his genes, huh? Spiky bastard. You board all the way here? Impressive!”
Before Roxas could decline the praise and react to the jarring contact, Axel opened the door behind him and stepped up to his side without so much as a limp. Roxas didn’t know why he’d expected a limp after nailing him in the stomach. But surely there’d be something – some telltale sign of assault that his father would sense.
“Axel, what were you doing outside? I swear to god if you lit the garden on fire again…” Reno said instead, his expression flatlining.
Again?
His son raised his hands in the air defensively. “I keep telling you that was an accident.”
“Riiiiight…” Reno drawled, crossing his arms. “Well I’ll leave you two to it, I suppose. Holler if you need something, yo!” And with that, he was striding off leaving a stunned Roxas in his wake.
Just as with the house, Roxas felt a peculiar sense of off-kilter unease. He’d expected some backstory to Axel’s possession, maybe a tour of the house, a sit-down affair with… candles and incense or something. A little more ceremony. Why was Reno so trusting of him around his house – his son? Hadn’t this been some sort of emergency?
“You’re clutching onto that skateboard pretty tight.” Axel observed once his father was out of earshot, raising a brow.
Reflexively easing his grip on the thing, Roxas felt a storm of emotions whirl through him as he faced his charge. “Listen, I’m sorry I-!”
“Don’t worry about it.” Axel waved the apology off easily. “You just surprised me is all. It’s a good thing.” He assured, a relaxed smile lighting his sharp features.
A small sense of normality soothed Roxas’s nerves. Maybe he’d misread everything a few minutes ago. Axel was probably just a bit… eccentric. He could still salvage this. “Yeah. Still…” Roxas offered with a shrug, letting the redhead know it wasn’t in his nature to attack strangers. “Just don’t do that again.”
“Oh, we’ll see, Roxy.” Axel said with a challenge that Roxas couldn’t quite fathom.
If anyone was going to touch him, Roxas supposed it would be someone who wanted their string broken. The idea still felt foreign to him though.
Axel suddenly frowned and looked away – the scowl deepening as the air around them crystallized, causing the marbled floor beneath Roxas’s feet began to crawl with frosted spirals and spikes. “Damnit.” Axel cursed through clenched teeth. “I was hoping to ward her off a bit longer…”
The redhead hauled Roxas to the side without warning as a spike of ice sprang from the ground to where he’d been standing only a moment before. To Roxas’s horror, the frost followed him with almost living, animalistic lurches. What the hell?
“Time to head back!” Axel declared, grabbing Roxas’s arm and yanking him through the house at a run, causing him to drop his skateboard along the way.
“That’s your ghost?” Roxas demanded as he risked a glance backwards, only to see a painting launch itself into the other wall as a cascade of ice poured down the hallway after them.
Axel flung open a door at the far end, shoving Roxas through first then placing himself in the doorway as a physical barrier, facing the approaching entity who was dousing the lights around it – seemingly collecting the darkness like a shroud till even Roxas could make out something swiftly approaching. The redhead’s form seemed to radiate with black fire as he finished a complicated series of symbols and slammed the door in the shadow’s proverbial face. The effect was instantaneous.
Wards burst to life in bright flares all around the room even as an ominous shaking began to rattle through the walls. As if the ghost were trying to find a way in. Roxas’s eyes were wide as he turned to each tumble of claws that raked through the framework, despite being unable to see anything at all. After a solid minute of terrorizing sounds, the claws skittered away and faded into silence – the lights coming back on after a few sputtering blinks.
“So,” Axel breathed, looking tired as he leaned back against his door. “Welcome to my room.” He gestured in a sarcastic display of ease.
Roxas wasn’t sure what to react to first. Much less, how to respond to such friendly flippancy.
It must have shown on his face because Axel gave him a sympathetic look, running a hand through his red hair awkwardly. “Sorry about that. I thought I could keep her in check longer than I did, but she got jealous and, well… She’s a real sweetheart, huh?” He cracked a smile, hoping to lighten the mood probably. “You okay?” Axel asked more seriously, looking honest-to-God concerned that Roxas might be in shock.
Which was hilarious. Who wouldn’t be in shock after that sort of introduction?! Roxas wondered incredulously, calming down his racing heartbeat.
“Hey, it’s okay. She can’t get in here.” Axel assured, stepping forward and resting a hand on Roxas’s shoulder worriedly.
“’m fine.” Roxas mumbled stubbornly, moving away from Axel’s touch – trying to focus on his surroundings to distract him. He dealt with supernatural strings, damnit! Not homicidal ice-ghosts!
His gaze fell upon Axel's bed first. It was mussed up and unmade - cans of soda, cords, and random trash cluttering up the nightstand. There were a few articles of clothing thrown haphazardly near the hamper as if Axel had missed when throwing them, though the rest of the floor remained fairly clear. On a desk sat a gothic looking lavalamp along with a sweet looking gaming setup Roxas knew Sora would cry over. Aside from the symbols and wards scribed and etched into the walls it was… a bit underwhelming.
And right now, that was exactly what he needed.
Roxas inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of cloves and ash. Right. Axel needed his help.
As if reading his mind, Axel held up his hands – apparently having no idea which one the string was connected to. “The sooner you untie this thing, the better. To be honest, today’s the first time I’ve gone outside in about a week.”
The blond shook his head, settling himself on Axel’s comforter and gesturing a few feet away for Axel to join him. “You don’t want me to do that.” He corrected as the redhead did as requested. “If I untie a person’s string they lose it entirely. I have to sever it if you want any chance of one day finding the way to your real soulmate. That’s why people don’t get close to me. They don’t want to risk me coming close to their string and accidentally untying it.” He explained softly, a shadow passing over his features. As if that would ever happen.
Roxas gently took Axel’s hand in his own, observing the red cord critically. It glowed faintly, filled with an inner light Roxas had never seen before. Strangely, it was only a single thread, possessing complex patterns that danced across its vibrant surface like flames and curls of smoke. It was… mesmerizing.
“You ever untie someone’s string before, Roxas?” Axel asked, his voice hushed.
He swallowed hard, pushing the memories aside. “Once.”
“What happened to them?”
Never taking his eyes away from the string, Roxas took a deep breath. “The string I untied left the man unable to find love or connect romantically with anyone ever again. The woman eventually healed in time and found a new soulmate a few years ago. From what I heard.” He finished softly, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he spoke the words.
It was all wrong. He’d been the one to cause it all – he should be glad his mother had found at least some form of happiness again. But he just couldn’t. She was his mom. She belonged with his dad! He knew it – everyone knew it! Even Aerith! But she simply didn’t feel for Cloud what she now felt for Zack.
And now his father had to watch it happen.
A tense minute of silence came between them till Axel changed the subject abruptly, pulling Roxas away from his dark thoughts, “So do you have a pair of scissors you use...?”
Doubling down on his emotions, Roxas shook his head, a small smile touching the corner of his lips at the mental image Axel must have. “I have to sever it myself, one fiber at a time. It'll be painful, like I'm breaking your heart; so it'll be slow going. You’ll probably be stuck in here for a couple more days from the look of yours.” He added, dropping Axel’s hand to grab his cell phone and text his dad the news.
“Uh, that’s cool with me – however long it takes, right? But the thing is, Larx probably won’t just let you go… and I can only hold her off for so long.” Axel muttered with a grimace.
Roxas’s thumbs flashed over the tiny keyboard like lightning. “I sort of figured this might happen. Living people will fight to have their string stay attached – it makes sense that a dead one would, too.”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m staying here with you, Axel.” Roxas informed, glancing up at the surprised redhead – whose eyes had gone comically wide. “In this room.” He flashed the older boy his father’s response, which okayed the whole situation, saying he’d bring over some of Roxas’s things later that evening.
Axel collected himself as Roxas sent a quick text to Sora.
“Well. Guess we’d better get started, huh?”