Chapter Text
“Did you hear me, Number Twelve?”
“Yeah, yeah. New name’s Larxene, Kingdom Hearts is gonna make us whole, I got it .” Her focus was on the little crackles of electricity dancing between her fingertips. Everything was starting to get a bit blurry in terms of what she remembered from before, but that, she knew, was new.
“You know this is serious . You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have an exceedingly powerful heart.”
She–Larxene, now, she couldn’t recall what she used to be called–finally looked up at her new ‘boss’. What did he call himself? Xemnas .
“What exactly is it you want me to say?” she asked dryly. “Oh, thank you, Xemnas, for this great reward? I’m still out a heart, aren’t I? I just look better than your run of the mill Nobody.” Her lips turned up as sparks danced over her fingertips. “I’m funnier, too, probably.”
Was she always this sharp? She didn’t think so. What a waste; considering she didn’t have much in the way of emotions now, this felt great .
Xemnas didn’t seem nearly as charmed. But then, she supposed that was expected. He gave a deep sigh that almost sounded annoyed.
“You’ll find your place prepared,” he said. “Once you’ve acclimated, seek out Number Eleven for your training.”
Larxene smiled. “You’re sticking me with the new guy? That seems mean.”
“He’s showing promise, despite his short time here. I want to see how he manages as a leader.” There was an unspoken addition of especially with someone proving to be difficult.
“Number Eleven. Is there a name I should be looking for?”
Xemnas’s golden gaze leveled on her. She struggled to hold it, but ultimately, she looked away. She kicked herself immediately for it; she had spent more than enough time being cowed by others. Well, she probably had.
“Marluxia,” Xemnas finally said. “Marluxia will be your guide.”
As far as conscriptions went, Larxene figured this one wasn’t too bad. Better than…had she been conscripted before now? No, but something close. Maybe. Ugh , hopefully these half-memories would fade out. But she had a room, and some robes that she thought would be god-awful, but were surprisingly flattering. Seems silly that they’d have a uniform, but Xemnas really was going hard on that cult vibe, wasn’t he? Well, let him for now. She wasn’t about to fall for it in the long run, but even with her new (?) attitude, she knew better than to bite the hand that fed her.
Number Eleven’s room was, predictably, beside hers. She hasn’t seen much by way of other Organization members yet, but there had to be at least nine others squirreled away somewhere. She approached it; there was the ghost of trepidation as she did, which automatically made her set her back straight in defiance of it. She had the courtesy to knock first, but when there was no answer, she opened the door.
“Number Eleven? I’m n–”
Flowers. Everywhere. All manner of flowers blooming on the walls, vines crawling over furniture. She was practically walking into a greenhouse.
“Number El–”
“I heard you,” came a soft, flat voice. Larxene caught a shift in the flowers, and she crossed her arms as a man, tall and broad-shouldered, stood in the center of the room. A flurry of petals, the same soft pink as his hair, fluttered around the room as he turned to look at her. He had the same air as Xemnas–trying very hard to be someone to be deferred to. But unlike their boss, there was something still uncertain in him, and she wasn’t about to let that slide.
“Dramatic much?” she asked, flicking away a petal that had fallen onto her shoulder. “You’re Marluxia, then?”
Something shifted in his face, but it wasn’t any sort of emotion she could get a read on. Which…yeah, that tracked, considering. But he dipped his head. “And you’re Number Twelve.”
“Larxene,” she corrected. “Not a huge fan of being reduced to a number, if I’m being honest.”
Marluxia didn’t offer anything in reply to that; his face really had shifted this time, into blatant curiosity. Ah, so he was still getting the hang of the “no emotion” thing, too. That made her feel a little better.
“Have we…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, N–Larxene. You’re here to train.”
“I am.” She kept her arms crossed, but looked over him with no small amount of her own curiosity. She was certain that he was going to ask if they’d met. Which, naturally, they couldn’t have; what were the odds of that? But there was something familiar about him.
Ah, probably just another side effect of those damned half=memories. She waved her hand.
“So, what is this? A special presentation on Nobodies and Heartless? You got a slideshow on Kingdom Hearts?”
Finally, Marluxia’s mouth curved up. “Not quite.”
He held out his hand, and in a blaze of pink light and petals, a scythe appeared in his hand. Larxene blinked, and in the next moment, he lunged.
“Hey, hey! What the hell?” she snapped, darting back. The blade came close enough she could feel it whoosh past her nose, but it didn’t hit, at least.
“You seem capable,” Marluxia called back toward her, using a forward spin to heave the blade toward her. “So fight back before I kill you.”
“What do y–ah, bastard! ” A vine lashed around her foot, and before she could even think, a surge of electricity blasted from her ankle. The vine withered, and she threw herself backward as another slash came perilously close to her face.
“Lightning, that’s a new one.” Oh, the bastard wasn’t even winded . “I wonder what weapon you can summon. If you keep your hands, at any rate.” Marluxia slashed from below, aiming for where Larxene’s hands were just a moment ago. Even amidst the shock of suddenly being under attack, she noticed there was something a little clumsy in how Marluxia used his scythe–he wasn’t used to it. Ha.
Larxene smirked, darting off to the side. She knew how to fight, that much was obvious from how she was able to keep from getting her ass handed to her, but what did she actually know? He’d said she could summon something? How the hell was she suppo–
“ Shit! ” Another vine got her while she was distracted, sending her rolling painfully to the ground. She stayed down for a moment, grimacing. Stupid . How was she supposed to do this? She couldn’t do anything right before. She wouldn’t be able to do anything now.
Actually.
Fuck that.
The air crackled around her as she pushed herself up, teeth gritted. Marluxia smirked at her, then lunged. Just as his scythe was about to come down, something sharp manifested in Larxene’s hand, and she instinctively threw it straight at him. There was a brief look of surprise as he brought the scythe down to block the shot, and she took the chance to aim a kick at him, an explosion of electricity sending him down to the floor.
Larxene panted as she looked down at him. “You’re a shitty trainer, you know that?”
Marluxia was still down, head on a pillow of flowers. To her great surprise, he looked pleased. No big smiles or anything, but certainly pleased.
“I’m not, actually,” he said. “Anyone else would have made you train for a week. I like to be efficient” He pushed himself up to sit, picking up something metal and sharp from in front of him. He held it up–a knife of some kind, though it was the strangest shape.
“Kunai. Interesting ,” he said. He gave an amused puff of air; Larxene had a feeling it was the most of a laugh anyone could get out of him. “It fits you, I think.”
She looked down at her hand, frowning for a moment before she clenched it into a fist. Between her fingers, more of the kunai appeared from thin air. Well . That was convenient. She glanced over at Marluxia, then heaved the three of them at him; this time, a wall of thorns shot up, tangling the knives in the briar.
“Nice try, but no.” Marluxia got to his feet, dusting himself off. His scythe disappeared, and he looked over her appraisingly. After a moment, he held out his hand. “Well done, Larxene. I was hoping there’d be more people like me.”
Larxene looked at his hand, then back up at him. Her eyebrow rose, but she didn’t take the hand. “Like you?”
“Ambitious. Hungry for more than the scraps Xemnas is no doubt going to feed us.” He let his hand drop, blue eyes steely. “Numbers don’t mean anything here, he’ll say, but I have the distinct feeling it’s never had to mean anything. I’m going to change that.”
Larxene clicked her tongue. “You just got here and you’re planning a coup ?”
“Do you disapprove?”
Did she? That was a good question, actually. On one hand, this was a pretty cushy gig from the sound of it. She could probably get by just fine, hiding out under the radar and doing what she was told. Maybe she’d even work her way up to getting a headpat or two.
On the other hand, fuck that.
She set her hand on her hip, looking up at Marluxia. “You willing to keep up the ‘promising new member’ schtick?
“Naturally.” His mouth curved up again. “I’m fairly certain I’ve always been considered leadership material.”
“Uh uh. No. I know where you’re going, and I’m not doing that.” Marluxia looked surprised as Larxene pointed at him, face serious. “You’re not getting a lackey. You’re getting a partner .” She gave him a smirk. “After all, numbers don’t mean anything here. Maybe I’ll be leading you soon enough.” This time, she held out her hand, raising her eyebrows. “Or do you disapprove?”
Marluxia’s mouth twitched; it was probably the closest thing to a full smile he’d worn. He took her hand. “I certainly do not.”
Elrena.
That’s who she was.
Timid Elrena who hid behind her aloofness. Unremarkable Elrena who kept getting chances she didn’t deserve. Quiet Elrena who only came close to having a friend because of a dead sister she’d spoken to in passing here and there.
She was still screaming as she came to; not from agony, but fury. She hadn’t wanted this. She hadn’t wanted to come back. Sure, Elrena was a person, but she wasn’t whole.
Larxene had been.
She couldn’t say where she’d turned up. She didn’t keep track of how long she had been there. Daybreak Town was long gone, and she was just one of many transplants left adrift in a world far from home.
The others–Xigbar, Vexen, Demyx, and Luxord–had been approached from what she heard. She, on the other hand, saw the flick of a black cloak and tracked him down.
“I know who you are,” she hissed as she approached him, down in one of the many alleyways in this place. The cloaked figure turned around. He was hunched down to her height and the voice that came from beneath it wasn’t one she recognized, but she knew .
“Elrena. You’re whole again.”
She looked over him; the face beneath was lined and bearded, but the gold eyes were the same. “And you’re old, Xemnas.”
A rasping laugh escaped from under the hood. “Xemnas was just a part of the whole. I am Master Xehanort.” He smiled, though the action was far from pleasant. “But…I’m not quite whole myself.” He regarded her for a moment. “You seem unsatisfied.”
“You don’t need to bother with your song and dance.” Elrena’s voice was low and sharp. “I just want to know two things, and I’ll agree.”
Xemnas…well, Master Xehanort , seemed surprised by this. “Then ask.”
“Will I be m…will I be Larxene again?”
“Of course. Nobodies are the self, and the self is constant.”
Elrena nodded, then hesitated as her brow furrowed. Master Xehanort was patient, but finally, he prodded, “Do you still have your second question?”
She looked up at him, then let out a breath. “Is Mar…is Lauriam…is he all right?”
Another discomforting smile from Xehanort. “You should ask him when we’re through. I think he’s been waiting for his partner in crime.”
And just like that, Number Twelve was back in action.