Chapter Text
“One?”
“One.”
Sheepishly, Axel raised his finger. “O— One?”
Saïx groaned, “Yes, Axel. One. Prepare for your mission. See to it that it’s done in a timely manner.” Before he could flee, Axel lunged to grab his arm. “What? What is it?” Saïx grumbled, exasperated, as if Axel was the one being weird.
“What’s the catch?” he demanded, eyes narrowed. “Is it like, a massive one? Does it puke out a buncha little ones?”
“No, I’ve said it countless times now. It’s one normal shadow. Go prepare.”
“What the hell are you sending three whole members to deal with one little shadow for?” Axel sputtered. He had always suspected Saïx didn’t expect the best of him perse, but this was just insulting.
“Well, for one, you’re going to Earth, so you can’t use any magic,” Saïx explained, following quickly with a deep sigh carrying years of pent-up disappointment. “Which you can read from the mission report.”
“Okay, but does that really require three people—”
“Axel!” he snapped out of nowhere. A spark of yellow flashed through his eyes that the redhead didn’t fail to catch, but he quickly levelled his voice. “There’s work to be done. I couldn’t care less if you don’t like who you’re paired with. Prepare for your mission and leave!” There were more questions to be asked, but Axel had long since learned not to keep pressing when the vein on his once-friend’s neck—left side, of course—started to pop out like there was something underneath, so he begrudgingly resigned to a walk of shame back to the sofa, where Larxene and Demyx were waiting.
Through practically bared teeth, Larxene maintained a languid tone as her eyes followed Axel. “You think I’m thrilled to be working with you two? You don’t hear me whining about it like a baby.”
“You’ve been whining this whole time,” Demyx challenged, dropping it in a second as soon as her scowl met him.
“Who said I didn’t want to work with you?” Axel retorted, before quickly amending, “I mean, I don’t—but that’s not what I was talking about. They’re sending all three of us for one shadow.”
Surprisingly, that managed to catch Demyx’ attention. “Wait— one?”
“One.”
“One?!”
“Yes, one!” God, I’m turning into Saïx…
With a grin wide enough to fit a fist into, Demyx kicked back on his seat. “Man, this is gonna be a cakewalk! Saïx must be off his rocker.”
Axel shushed hurriedly, head darting around the gray room, “Yell that a little louder, will you?!”
“And you’re wrong,” Larxene sneered, much sharper than when she was talking to Axel, “as always. This is going to take a while.”
“Do you have that little faith in us?” Axel asked, maybe even genuinely. “I mean, Demyx, sure, but us?”
Larxene sighed. “How sad that neither of you can read the mission report.”
Sinking into the seat next to Demyx, Axel challenged, “Enlighten us, then.”
“See if you can understand this on the first try, okay?” she mocked. “It’s one little shadow, in a giant city. We’re gonna be crawling around there for forever.” The more she spoke, the sharper she got, the more venom settled in her glare at Demyx’ unchanged grin. “All because the dumb Earth people will think it’s supernatural, or something like that.”
“Whatever,” yawned Demyx. “We find it, we snipe it and we’re home free. Plus, camping out in the city wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for a day or two—away from x-face and the others!”
Axel shot another around the gray room, something he recognized as potential fear settling when he didn’t find Saïx. “You’ve seriously gotta start using your indoor voice.”
“Are you three leaving yet?” The boys yelped, flying off of the couch to see that Saïx had somehow materialized behind him. “You’ve had ample time to prepare. Head out immediately.”
“Yes Sir, whatever you say, Sir,” Axel scorned. Behind him, a dark corridor opened.
“Let’s go,” Larxene demanded, ushering the two in before she followed, not forgetting to give Saïx a nasty look before disappearing into the darkness. Axel sighed. He had to leave without so much as a goodbye for Xion and Roxas.
For the next supposed couple of days, their camp would be a cramped one-bedroom apartment, stationed at the center of the city, with windows that stretched from ceiling to floor. Almost immediately upon entry, Larxene had declared inarguable “dibs” on the sole bed, relegating Axel and Demyx to the couch and cold floor respectively.
“I mean, we could alternate—” Demyx had attempted to compromise.
“Or, I could throw you out in the rain, and you can sleep on the road.” So, that settled that. Strangely enough, the three of them did share a common goal despite their differences, and even stranger still, that goal aligned with Saïx’. That was, to get this done as fast as possible. Course of action number one was to get out on the open road and begin their search, but not before clearing a quick roadblock—
“You should change, Demyx,” argued Axel.
“Why’s that?” Demyx whined.
“Because just one of these coats is fine, two is a little weird and all three of us patrolling the streets in cult uniforms is going to turn heads.”
Larxene threw in, “We can’t use dark corridors outside of the apartment anyway, so it shouldn’t matter.”
“Then why don’t you change?” Demyx contended.
“Oh, why… let’s see— because I don’t want to.”
“Yeah. So, um. Off you go.” Axel gestured at him to shoo.
“Okay, okay, how about this—” bargained Demyx, “—I’ll look for something else to wear, and you guys start looking for the shadow. I’ll catch up!”
“Absolutely not,” Axel shut down. “Just find a shirt in the shopping center down the street, and we’ll go.”
During those early days, it was of the essence that they didn’t make themselves too known or noticed. Axel walked with his head down, convincing himself it was to catch the shadow melding on the sidewalk, but Larxene was sure it was out of shame ot be sharing the same personal space as Demyx and his fake gold-chain adorned neck and massive puffy jacket. I should’ve just changed.
On Axel’s right, sight glued onto the passing shops to leer was the ill-dressed Demyx. Any attempts to get him to focus were rebuffed—”What if it wandered into one of these shops?” To Axel’s left, Larxene was focused on the road, tarred as dark as the image of a shadow skittering through.
When it became clear that walking up and down the street wasn’t working for them, they set up a stakeout maybe a hundred feet in the air, with a single telescope from the castle that Axel just barely managed to figure out how to operate. “Do you see anything?” Larxene asked impatiently.
“If I saw something, I’d say something,” he said matter-of-factly, “so chill out.”
“We’re not very high up,” Demyx tittered. “What if it’s above us?”
“Yeah,” Larxene snarled, “or maybe anywhere outside 200 meters of us! This was a stupid idea!”
Axel rounded on her, “Stupider than walking the area of the city?”
“Uh, yes? Without a doubt? At least that was more efficient.”
Groaning, Demyx lazily draped his arms over the both of them. “Stop fighting, guys, it’s unbecoming.”
WIth a shriek, Larxene threw his arm off. “You don’t even know what that means!”
“There’s no good way to find a needle in a haystack,” Axel asserted, telescope still to his face. “So, we might as well try a buncha strategies.”
“This one’s bad,” she grumbled, leaning over the edge of the balcony. A number of intrusive thoughts about just one little shove were quickly shaken out of Demyx’ head. “We need a map of the city. Then we could section off our search piece by piece.”
“But the thing moves,” Demyx noticed, potentially the smartest thing he’d said all day.
“Then we have to corner it somehow,” Axel said decidedly, dropping the telescope onto the roof floor. “Lure it into a dark corner and catch it. Just think, what do the Heartless like?”
Demyx shrugged. “Keyblades.”
“Don’t think we can get our hands on one of those. Anything else?”
“People who are pure of heart,” Larxene added.
Axel scoffed, “And how do you suppose we’re getting one of those in this place?”
All of a sudden, Demyx chimed, “I’ve got it!”
“Oh, this oughta be good,” the blond scowled.
“No, no, seriously, I’ve got it! Fake Keyblade.”
After a moment of silence that made it clear he wasn’t going to elaborate without being prompted, Axel asked dejectedly, “What is a fake Keyblade, Demyx?”
“Glad you asked. You see—”
Larxene sneered, “No way we’re entertaining this.”
“Can you just let me explain? You see, we make a fake Keyblade out of cardboard or something.”
They stared at him. “Oh. Oh, you’re done,” Axel said blankly.
“Whaddya think?” The grin was as wide as ever, brows raised in anticipation. Before Larxene could unhinge her jaw from her chiselled teeth to yell at him, Axel preemptively interjected,
“Worth a shot.”
She sputtered, the rage she was ready to unleash turning into disbelief in a second, “Really?! Is it really worth a shot?”
Hands raised in surrenderance, Axel argued, “They budgeted a good amount of money for us. Enough to spare some cardboard and markers. I say, what’s the harm, really?”
“Ooh, that’s two against one,” Demyx chortled, “which means you’re overruled!”
Muttering under her breath with enough venom to kill, Larxene pushed past the boys to the staircase. “ Idiots .”
That evening, the three members were splayed out on the wooden floorboards in front of the couch, rifling through a spread of materials. Demyx laid on his stomach, legs kicked into the air like a teenage girl, colouring in a yellow cardboard handle with near uncharacteristic focus. Resting against the front of the couch, Larxene alternated between whittling out the teeth of the blade with her knives and sneaking bites of their instant noodle dinner. “The Heartless are drawn to light, and purity, and you two think we can recreate that with a little cardboard stick,” she muttered, more to herself than the others.
From his own spot on the floor, sketching out the remaining stencils, Axel shot back, “Hey, I don’t think this’ll work either, but we have to come up with something , don’t we?”
“All done!” Demyx announced. “This calls for a song.”
“You have other things to colour, you little toddler,” scorned Larxene.
“And I’ll do ‘em when you’re done cutting them all out, dang!” Not letting her get another protest in, he summoned his instrument in his lap.
“You’re not allowed to summon that!”
“I’m not allowed to summon that in public ! Chill out!”
“Does your master plan involve a place to put this thing, Demyx?” Axel questioned. He passed over his work to Larxene before retreating to get a bowl for his own dinner.
“Over there.” Demyx pointed over the couch at the window with the end of his sitar. “In the alley between those two buildings. We can stake it out from inside the apartment if we put a light there!”
Larxene accused, “You just don’t want to stand outside.”
“But if it works, it works.”
“It better work.”
“It will work,” insisted Demyx, before exotic sounding music filled the room.
“It’s not working.”
“Just give it some time!”
“You said that six hours ago!” Larxene snapped, loud enough for a sleep-deprived Demyx to flinch from the floor.
“Chill out, you’ll wake Axel—” he interrupted himself with a thick yawn, “—like you so rudely woke me.”
He winced when she shoved his head. “It’s your turn to keep watch!”
“Indoor voices!” he pleaded, and with puppy-dog eyes, continued, “Think of Axel!”
Behind them, a deep groan came from the couch. “Too late. I’m up.” With strenuous effort, he pulled himself up on the backrest and stretched hard enough to break bones. Barely able to strain themselves open, his eyes could make out Larxene by the window, the silhouettes of her hair flicks in the dim light. “...Ya find it?”
An exaggerated smile pulled at her lips at once. “Yes, Axel,” she said mockingly, “we found it. Can’t you see how thrilled I am?”
“Sun’s gonna rise soon,” Axel mumbled, voice crackly. “If we got nothin’ by tomorrow, we’re scrapping the whole thing.” Demyx was too tired to be heartbroken.
“Should’ve been scrapped before it came out of his mouth,” Larxene scowled. “Anyways, go, Demyx.”
Head retreating back to the bundled Org coat makeshift pillow, he whined, “Don’t make me…”
“Wha— it was your idea! It’s your shift!”
“If I admit it was a bad idea will you let me sleep?”
“No!”
Collapsing back onto the couch, Axel groaned, “I’ll go out and find the thing myself if you both shut up now…”
“We need a new plan,” ordered Larxene, in vain, of course, as Axel was already halfway back asleep, and Demyx was quickly catching up.
“Whatever we can talk about now, we can talk about tomorrow.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she bit in response, “It is tomorrow.”
“Excuse me, Sir, have you seen our dog?” A man flinched as Demyx appeared from out of nowhere on the sidewalk, shoving a missing poster in his face before he could react.
He squinted, cautiously taking the sheet into his hands, eyes narrowing more and more. “...This is a dog?”
“That’s right man, my dog. Miss him everyday.”
“Its feet are sinking into the ground.”
“That’s just the camera angle,” Axel added from behind him.
The man stammered, “This— this is not a dog—”
“And you’re no help!” snapped Larxene, who suddenly appeared at Axel’s side. Reaching over the stranger’s shoulder, she snatched the paper from his grip and ushered the boys away. The stars were settling over the city, and it was time to return to the apartment.
Abandoning the now deeply-confused man on the sidewalk, Demyx leaned on Axel with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. “Doesn’t anyone in this city have a heart?”
Promptly pushing him off, Axel sighed, “This was also a pretty bad idea, Larxene.”
“Worse than waiting around for a piece of cardboard to attract it?” she argued. “Worse than running around aimlessly?”
Yes, maybe. Potentially. For two days now, Demyx, Larxene and Axel had been going block-to-block pasting posters and questioning passersby. Their days consisted of antagonizing people on the streets and vandalising the community. Nights were spent creating more posters—they only had one real photo of the shadow to show around, so the others would have to be drawn by hand, not too big of a problem for the few polygons that made one up. The three were becoming quite accustomed to the taste of convenience store cup noodles, the city’s sprawling grid, and the spot that they had been camping on on the cold floor. Not a single message had come up on the receiver.
“Three days with no luck,” Axel sighed, collapsing face-down on the couch as soon as Larxene shut the door behind her. “No shadow biting for the Keyblade, either,” he mocked, voice muffled in the couch cushion.
Larxene swatted at Demyx, who was bent over in the pantry digging for a snack. “See, I told you! It’s what the Keyblade represents —they’re attracted to the light, idiot!”
“My fucking bad, Socrates—” he groaned, re-emerging with peanuts clenched in his palm, “I just wanna go home!”
“Like I don’t?!” She huffed, locking her attention on the redhead melded with the couch. “Get up. We’re going back to posters.”
A long, exasperated and still muffled groan that may or may not have contained several derogatory words stretched out as Axel slithered onto the ground, and Larxene dropped a fat stack of papers in front of him. Feeling the mountain of sheets brush past his thumb, he grumbled, “This isn’t working.”
“We agreed we’d try this until we got at least one call, or until one of you dolts could pull up a better idea. Until then, you’d better keep drawing.” With that, Larxene collapsed next to him.
Axel questioned, “And you, Demyx, remind me why you can’t help us again?”
Swallowing a handful of peanuts with great effort, he said from the kitchen, “You saw me—I’m no good at drawing!”
“It’s a shadow. It has, like, three shapes,” Axel said, monotone. There was no use wasting energy arguing with him, anyway.
“Aw, c’mon guys, I’m putting all those words!” he whined, strolling over to take his spot on the ground. “You know how much writing that is?”
“Are you gonna sprain your wrist next?” Axel scoffed, quickly meeting one of Larxene’s scowls.
“Don’t give him ideas!” She directed it back at Demyx. “It’s one word, and our number. I think you can figure out at least that, right?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Again, no use. Nothing ever good came from being snide to Demyx. Unlike the hoity-toity Radiant Gardeners, he had seemingly no temper at all, no pride to protect, and Larxene would always somehow end up flying over the edge in the end.
“If you can’t even write properly, I’ll do it myself!” She nearly bit her own tongue as soon as it came out, finding herself right in his trap.
“Great, glad we agree,” he sighed, satisfied, sitar already forming in his arms.
Larxene sputtered, before getting interrupted by Axel attempting to keep the apartment as PC as possible; “Just let him play.”
“Are you serious?”
He shrugged. “Music might just be a bit more helpful than writing a few words.”
“If you could call it that…” Larxene took a marker, tightening and relaxing her hand. She could never figure out just how much pressure she had to use to keep her hands from doing those annoying jitters.