same old lines carved into stone

“Don’t get distracted,” Riku said, standing tall before him, grip tight on the door frame. “We still need you to come back.”

Axel couldn’t help but scoff at the memory, the sky passing idly on by above him. Riku sure loved acting all tough and mighty while he paraded around as Ansem. Seriously, give a guy some power and wham! He’s hardly recognizable!

Granted, it probably hadn’t helped any that on the last assignment Axel had happened to wander off from the intended target. Or the fact that he would survey the same town for hours on end, waiting around despite knowing from past experiences that nothing would change.

He sighed as he sat up, brushing loose grass and dirt off his coat.

He knew Riku meant well, knew that he just wanted to make sure that Axel returned safely—but Axel couldn’t help but search for signs in a place that he knew better than the back of his hand. He felt the munny shift in his pocket as he stood up, stretching.

Twilight Town was just up ahead.

Honestly, it wasn’t his fault that he never seemed to tire of the town. Sure, exploring meant a few distractions along the way, but hey! At the very least, he made sure to bring back something with him to let the others know that he was thinking of them. 

(Somewhat.)

He knew it frustrated Riku a bit, who wondered what the point was of visiting the same old place for new hopes—wondering why Axel was so stuck on exploring an area that remained practically the same.

(Wondering why Axel was so much like him.)

As appreciated, the concerns were, to him, it didn’t matter. To Axel, the unchangingness made the place so comforting and worth spending a few extra hours hanging around. 

Same old scenery. Same old buildings. Same old shadows and even the same old people.

It was the same old Twilight Town from his memories, ever unchanging beneath the setting summer sun.

He counted the bricks winding down the path as he made his way into town, careful not to interact too much with the residents—part of the whole “incognito and being on the down-low” thing they currently had going on.

An honest shame, seeing how the view on the opposite side of the shadows was a lot nicer these days.

Axel hummed quietly to himself as he made his way through the shade and to the small store tucked away snuggly in a secluded corner of town. The train crawled on by slowly, a few children running past him, Axel all the while admiring the way the shadows danced with the leaves. 

Sometimes, if he listened close enough, he could hear additional footsteps walking alongside him.

The munny weighed in his pocket as he entered the building, the store clerk waving to him, already knowing which items to retrieve. The munny passed over to the clerk’s hands, the weight of gold swapped with the feel of plastic. The ice cream was bitingly cold in his hands, and sometimes when he examined them, Axel couldn’t help but think back to Vexen.

Maybe one day, he’d get the chance to tell the man sorry. For everything, really.

Axel found himself back outside, the store bell chiming as the clerk waved him off, three ice creams in hand. He watched as the evening sun reflected off the packaging.

Same old plastic wrap. Same old store clerk.

Same old bittersweet taste.

The water splashed as he stepped through puddles, cloudy droplets rolling off his coat’s bottom with ease. He had never really appreciated that little detail much before, but as he hopped through a few more puddles, water jumping to greet him, Axel found it pretty neat.

He wondered if Roxas had known and if that’s why he had no problem flying over the ocean, fingers combing through the seas, laughter rising with the wind.

He wondered if Roxas would have wanted to play in Neverland again if given a chance.

Axel scratched the back of his head, continuing his walk through the tunnel. Talk about what a drag his memories were. It seemed a sourness plagued even the good ones lately, tinged with frustration that he couldn’t scrub out.

The ice cream was a comforting weight in his coat pocket as Axel ran his hand along the damp, brick walls. The grooves slid beneath his fingers as he tried to regroup his straying thoughts. It wouldn’t do to arrive back at the mansion with his head stuck in the clouds. He knew he had to focus, focus on what was ahead, not the past!

His hand slowed in its travel as Axel came to a halt.

Was he even heading toward the end of the right tunnel? 

“You know, there’s this game I remember,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the clock tower, ice cream in hand, “Where the girl was supposed to whistle if she needed the guy to come back.”

He lifted his fingers to his mouth, pushing down on his bottom lip—

Roxas laughed, bumping against his side playfully. “What, you want us to come running like puppies?” 

There was movement behind Roxas, another smiling face making itself known. 

“More like you’ll come running to us,” a teasing laugh, hair lightly swaying in the evening breeze, “Right, Axel?”

—and whistled.

The noise loudly echoed as it traveled down the tunnel, Axel holding his breath. He wasn’t sure why there was a sudden swelling deep within his chest, but he felt his palms grow sweaty in his leather gloves, anticipation thrumming beneath his skin as he waited patiently.

The whistle faded away, the leaks along the ceiling sounding once more.

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Axel couldn’t help but laugh; the tension inside his chest gone. “Yeah, guess not.” He continued forward, trying to shrug the matter off. Whistle, and I’ll come running. Sure, if only that’s all it took.

Thinking back, Axel remembered that the boy eventually stopped answering, while the girl sat by the shores and remembered him—never forgetting the dream they shared.

He shook his head almost violently. “No way, no how!” His fist tightened, a snarl curling his lip, “I’m not going to let you take off just like that! We’re supposed to stick together ’til the end, you know?! And... And...,” he trailed off, the heat slowly seeping out of him and into the cold tunnel, leaving behind nothing more than his muddled and jumbled thoughts.

I want to go back and see that same old view with—

“Gah!” Axel yelled, water dripping onto his face. He wiped his nose, glaring up at the ceiling.

Another drop fell, and Axel clicked his tongue, shuffling forward.

“Not like I wanted to keep being here, anyway,” he grumbled, “It’s too damp and dingy and grimy and… and… well, it’s a lot of things!” he said to no one in particular, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “This is why the clock tower is a much more popular attraction, you know!”

The tunnel continued to drip, drip, drip, blissfully unaware of Axel’s ire.

Axel sighed, wincing at the headache he felt coming on. He would have blamed it on the draft inside the tunnel, but he decided to, graciously, cut it some slack.

And he knew better. Knew that this headache always kicked around his mind whenever he seemed to try and tumble down memory lane, everything static and incomprehensible.

The ice cream bumped against his fingers.

“I should hurry up and go,” he mumbled to himself, “Don’t need these guys melting on me now.” He stepped into another puddle as a memory rose through seas of static.

Roxas asked if the partially-melted ice cream was a new, limited-edition flavor, holding the treat up to inspect it beneath the setting sun. Axel ignored any accusations that he had gotten somehow sidetracked on his way back from retrieving their regulars, handing over the melted icy treats to two—

He smiled. He recalled that the flavor that day had been a bit sweeter.

If water rolled down his face as he continued back toward the mansion, Axel blamed it on the dripping brick sky.

It was home in the same way that it wasn’t.

The hedges lined themselves neatly along stone walls, the area void of objects, save for the pillars. Axel found that he had taken quite a liking to the broken ones, their crumbled forms giving the place a bit more edge than needed, but welcomed all the same.

Some days on his way in, Axel found himself watching the gates. He wasn’t sure why; maybe he was on the verge of finding the perfect decoration for them—that or they were just so damn ugly that he couldn’t help but stare.

Whistling off-key, Axel made his way to the front door, placing his hand on the knob. He gripped it and turned.

It wouldn’t budge.

One eyebrow rose as he tightened his grip and tried rattling the doorknob. It wiggled slightly for a split-second, then seemed to appear even more stuck in place, refusing to budge an inch. 

Axel leaned in and squinted, scrutinizing it. Something flickered around the handle, and he clicked his tongue.

Of course, Riku would do that.

Of course, he would lock the front door with magic. 

Of course.

Axel rolled his eyes. “It’s a waste of a front door, y’know!” he called out loudly, his only response the rustling leaves. He heaved a sigh, standing back and allowing himself space. His fingers moved, and his hand curled, a corridor making itself known, ripping through the atmosphere with ease. 

He understood that Riku was doing it to keep them safe from outside intruders, but seriously, it was a complete waste of a perfectly good front door!

Plus, if their enemies wanted to, they could summon corridors of darkness and waltz right into the mansion.

‘It’s not just for enemies,’ he recalled Riku saying once, his frustration leaving as quickly as it had come. Axel watched how the edges of the void seemed to seep into the world, holding on tightly and vanishing in the same breath. 

“Just seems like a bit of a waste,” he mumbled quietly to no one in particular, “Your best friend’s wandering around, and you don’t even want him to see you…”

There was laughter, someone bumping into him playfully. Axel smiled, reaching down and ruffling the strands of black and gold that rested beneath his hands. There were half-hearted complaints, Axel barking out a laugh, dragged forward by— 

Axel rubbed the back of his neck, chest aching uncomfortably. “Just a big waste if you ask me.” 

He stepped through the corridor, wisps of darkness embracing him.

Once, when he was younger, Axel had read a story about a princess and her magical tears.

(A classic, a pretty good one at that!)

Whenever the princess wept, her tears granted wishes. She cried and cried, others gathering the droplets to see their dreams realized. The desires ranged anywhere from riches that would light the stars with envy to bloated ideals of love. No matter the request, the tears seeped into the people's wishes and granted all their dreams—except for the princess'.

She locked herself away and sat alone with her tears, her wishes rolling off the droplets and crumbling onto the floor. She wept so much that her room flooded itself, all while hoping that one tear would finally listen and grant her wish.

Axel stepped out of the corridor and into the main hallway.

He wondered if the tears of a Nobody would have any worth to them. Would they be counted as real tears, or would they be false imitations, wishes rolling right off them? He hummed, mulling it over.

A Nobody in a fairytale probably wouldn't have lasted long, after all, happy endings weren't really in their descriptions.

Axel stepped around the broken furniture with practiced ease, frowning to himself. He couldn't remember if the princess' wish was ever realized, or if she had been doomed from the start to cry the rest of her life away.

He held his chin. Maybe it hadn't been a fairytale; maybe he had just wished that it was one. Given the time, perhaps he should reread it and refresh his memory a bit. He glanced around the room.

It wouldn't hurt to clean the place up a bit, make it feel less of forgotten storage, and more of a secret base. Axel was sure Riku would agree to the idea, when he wasn't busy going around doing, well, whatever it was that Riku did.

Granted, it made little sense to tidy up the place and make it comfortable when he wasn't planning on staying here much longer in the first place.

He passed by the basement, giving it a small nod of acknowledgment as he made his way to the other end of the room.

Some days, he imagined three keyblades soaring through the skies, cutting beautiful arcs in the air. And some days, Axel wondered if he just really liked the number three.

He found himself face to face with another door, and Axel took a deep breath, the mess of thoughts in his chest settling some.

The ice creams sat inside his pocket, Axel reaching up to touch his teardrops, paint sitting quietly on his skin.

Maybe he could make the most of his time here and try to grant a few dreams—a last-minute wish granter of sorts.

Axel snorted at the idea and stepped inside.

She sat tucked away in the corner of the room; knees held snug to her chest as she stared out the window. It was open, a gentle breeze swaying gossamer curtains.

He had told her before that she was free to roam around the mansion as she pleased, that she was no longer anyone’s captive and wasn’t confined to just one room anymore.

Naminé had looked at him a bit sadly at that, asking him if that was really true.

Axel found that he couldn’t answer.

At least today, she appeared to be a bit more at ease, even if just a smidge. It seemed she was getting accustomed to their company, and Axel found that loneliness was a little less awful when shared.

She noticed his presence and nodded lightly, nothing more than a subtle tilt of the head. He gave her a two-finger salute and held up the ice creams.

“Came back with the usual,” he said, handing her one. She took it with a quiet thanks, Axel laughing a bit sheepishly when he noticed that it had begun to melt. “Well, mostly usual. Think of it as a special flavor, yeah?”

Naminé smiled at that, still reserved, yet a lot more open than her usual expressions. “Yes, thank you, Axel.”

He took a seat and pulled the wrapping off his own, biting a chunk out. It was soft, falling off the popsicle stick and into his mouth with ease. Axel placed Riku’s share on the table, figuring that he could always refreeze it if the other didn’t show up soon.

“Axel.”

“Hm?” he looked up, a bit surprised she was initiating the conversation today.

Naminé watched her ice cream closely. “Have you ever gone to the beach?”

“The… beach?” He took another bite of his ice cream, swallowing it quickly. “Can’t say that I have. I mean, I’ve planned on it, but….” he shrugged his shoulders, “Can’t say that I have.”

“I think it’d be nice,” she said almost wistfully, the ice cream beginning to drip down her fingers. Axel handed her a napkin, one that she took gratefully. Naminé spoke again, “It’d be nice to watch the sunset and... sit by the ocean, with all the shells at my feet.”

The blue-stained napkins reminded him of something. Then again, shades of blue always seemed to jumble up in his mind, leaving him with more headaches and tears than he could count.

“You think so?” he asked, setting down the now bare popsicle stick.

Naminé nodded, leaning against the windowsill.

Sometimes, Axel couldn’t help but wonder if she’d fade away with the rest of the room one day, her expression pained as she observed the world from behind the curtains.

Sometimes, he wondered if Naminé had a place that she longed to return to as well.

“I was thinking of Sora’s memories… The beach he played on,” she said softly, a faraway look in her eyes. For a second, Axel wondered if she’d start to cry, but Naminé continued, “I want to have a memory like that one day. One that I… that I don’t have to pull from paper.”

Axel hummed, taking in the various drawings Naminé had surrounded herself with. “So, like a wish?”

Naminé’s eyes blinked slowly, “A wish?” She lifted her head, nodding. “Yes, a wish would be nice.” The ice cream slipped out of her grasp and splattered onto the floor, the blue a stark contrast to white tiled floors. Naminé’s eyes widened, worry crossing her features. “Oh. Oh, Axel, I’m—”

“Well, why didn’t ya say so?” He stood up, stretching his arms. He offered Naminé a smile. “I’m kinda obligated to grant wishes at the moment. And what a coincidence that you happen to have one!”

She stared at him, the ice cream long forgotten.

He tapped his temple, “Gotta keep this sharp and in top condition, yeah?” Axel snapped his fingers, wiggling them dramatically. “Can’t let my magic go to waste, now, can I?”

Naminé covered her mouth, laughing into her palm. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” She seemed livelier than usual, no longer confined within herself. “Thank you, Axel,” she bowed her head, pressing her hands together. “I’ll do my best to give you a pleasant dream.”

Before he could say another word, the door opened, Riku standing in the entryway. His eyes widened as he crossed the room in a hurry, asking if they were injured.

“What happened?” he asked, inspecting both of them. “Are you hurt? Were you crying?”

Naminé and Axel shared a look.

(Sometimes, Riku unintentionally enjoyed being a comedian.)

Riku received his melted ice cream, one that Axel reassured still tasted just as good. Predictably, he frowned.

Predictability, Axel received a lecture.

And, predictability, they sat together in the white room as the sun continued to set, pondering their imitated emotions and the taste of bittersweet ice cream once more.

He didn’t remember stepping into the ocean. Hell, he didn’t even remember arriving at the beach.

Axel wiped the water from his face, staring down at his reflection. Something shimmered above his head. He blinked, leaning in close to see if he could catch a glimpse at what it was—

—only to fall forward, a beach ball shoving him down under with a tremendous splash. He rose back up, shaking off the water. Laughter sounded nearby, and he turned, unable to keep the grin off his face. 

Roxas and Xion splashed at the water innocently, whistling to themselves. They noticed him staring their way and broke out into big smiles, turning to swim away.

“You guys better brace yourselves!” he called out, diving forward to catch them. The sun was warm on his back as he parted through the waves, the two not far ahead. His chest felt light, and if he didn’t know better, Axel would have thought the salt he tasted in his mouth was that of their usual sea salt ice cream.

He didn’t remember catching up to them, didn’t remember them all falling back onto the sand, breaking out into a fit of giggles. 

If he listened carefully, he would have heard the scratching of a pencil against paper. Would have heard the pages turning, quiet murmurings in the air as another page was crafted for him to live out. 

If Axel listened, he would have noticed.

But for now, he was content dozing off on the warm sand with Roxas and Xion by his side. The waves crawled up to cover them gently, and for a fleeting moment, Axel remembered how beautiful the world could be.