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Echo Chamber

Summary:

Saïx knows how his story will end. His title was not the Diviner for nothing.

He just has to put certain things into play first.

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She was born blank and faceless, just as she had been the first time. She - not it. 

The least he could do was be respectful. 

But something about it all did not feel entirely right. Though, he supposed, there had been little right with any of this, ever. 

"...Are you sure that this was a success?" Saïx watched her closely and while the temptation was there, he didn't remove her hood. He had always hated how Xemnas did the same thing to him - as if eager for others to see him and his mark of ownership. "I… still do not see any discernible features, Vexen. Are you positive that her heart is in there?" 

"Are you doubting me, my boy?" Vexen raises an eyebrow at him, hardly looking up from the computer. No - Saïx did not doubt him, but he needed this to be correct. This had to work. 

He would not fail again. 

"She is faceless, still." Lea - Axel - and Roxas had always called Xion her, she, positive that she was a young girl and not a blank mannequin. Saïx had only ever seen her as a mottled white, featureless shape within her little coat, and the fact that now they could prove she had a heart yet there was still nothing, it was… Worrying. Even without a heart, Saïx could worry. 

"Well, a face is overrated anyway," Vexen murmured, barely paying Saïx any attention, too busy typing. "Her heart is in place and functioning, if not slow to start. A face is irrelevant at this point. And, at least without a face, she does not have one that is defective or marred or-" 

"Damaged?" It came out on a growl and Vexen did not need to look up to know that those golden eyes were narrow and scathing, the scar between them long-familiar. 

"Be calm, VII," Vexen glanced up at him quickly, dismissively, but Saïx could hear the slightest touch of apology in Vexens voice. "You know what I meant." 

"Is there any use for our numbers, now, really?" Saïx sighed, frustration ebbing. Vexen had always been so quick to devolve to petty place-naming and number-calling. "We may be here, but it is not like half of our members are essentially rankless."

The World That Never Was had inhabitants again. The 'Real' Organization slipping to it from time to time when their members needed supplies, resources, to hide and plot and betray. He wished he did not have to come back here at all. He wished he had stayed dead. It would have, at least, made sense. It would have been the end. He would not have had to see it.

 

Not ten minutes after Saïx died had Kingdom Hearts burst open and he was fucking livid. 

 

Ten years of work, gone to naught. Worthless. His entire time as a Nobody amounting to nothing - less than nothing. Xemnas had done exactly squat to prevent it and the sky above their former home and current hiding place only had the faintest echo of a moon now - a ring of light with a tattered, ruined, cratered center. Xemnas would never have used the finished thing to give him a heart, but still. Saïx felt infinitely cheated and incredibly tired. 

He was so very glad that Vexen's laboratory area lacked windows. 

He had wanted to destroy the Organization and everything about it from day one for everything it and its Superior had done to him and Lea, holding out just enough hope that perhaps he could at least get something out of it. It had cost him everything. His life, his existence, his face, his heart, his body. And he had failed. It would not happen again. He had been given a second chance to put things right, to tear everything apart, to make amends, and he would do just that - no matter what. 

"Would you rather I call you I- " 

"No. Because I am not him." Saïx interrupted his elder. No. That boy was dead. And he should have been. But he had come back once and he could come back again, perhaps - should he do the right thing. Should that heart out there, wherever it was, find his body redeemable.  "Not yet. And I will not be until Xion is in her rightful place. Roxas too. That is all I care about now." 

"Yes, well - we can't exactly get Roxas' heart back as of yet. But I shall have another vessel prepared soon, should I remain undisturbed." 

A subtle hint, and Saïx nodded, moving to crouch before Xion - who had remained stationary and quiet this entire time, still seemingly waking up. Saïx let out a slight sigh and tried to look at where eyes would be, if she had them, peering up under her hood. 

"Hello, in there." 

She moved minutely - the slightest turn to face him. Blank, blank and nothing. Familiar and haunting.

"Can you remember, Xion?" He asked, unmoving. Part of him felt as if he should try and mimic some kind of caring expression, but he had never been good at that. Too few memories of happiness to go off of. 

Xion just stared - or as good as, still and neutral. 

"She may not speak for a while - give it some time and keep that impatience of yours tempered, VII." 

Slowly breathe in. Slowly breathe out. He tried not to shoot a glare over at Vexen. Impatience - as if he were one to talk. He looked back up at Xion - whose head had tilted very subtly; as if listening, reading his face, searching, but without features it was hard to tell. He was not much to look at - but she was not reacting to him at all, so his empty chest flickered with a remnant of hope. A fresh slate, and blank start. This could work.

"...Well. We shall just have to hope that your memory returns soon. Recompletion in any form can take time." 

"Time we don't have to spare," Vexen grumbled. "I hope you're ready to stay on your toes, my boy, we're in for a sprint to the finish. The end of days will be upon us before we know it." 

"Then we shall make haste," Saïx stood and gave a slight nod to Vexen, eager to be away and out of this fucking castle. Even that dry deadland was better than this. But he tried not to dwell - things had started, the pieces lining the board, and he, puppet that he was, had to play his part. "And we shall let you continue with your work in peace. Won't we, Xion?" 

He turned for the door and offered his hand. 

She took it, and he did not have the emotional capacity to explain what it did to the space in his chest. 

 

 


 

 

"Well well!" Obnoxious. Loud. Arrogant. The only good thing about Xigbar was the helpful way he announced his presence before he actually showed up. "Looks like Poppet is up and running again! What, you got stuck with babysitting duty, blue-moon? Bossman must think you're really not up to task much these days, huh?" 

Saïx looked at him and said nothing. Words were both wasteful and dangerous with Xigbar. He so easily kept them secret only to use them later, when their initial speaker was vulnerable, sociopathic sharpshooter that he was. Not that Saïx could talk. Either way - he had never liked the man - older or not, higher ranking or not, he was a mouthy brat. And he knew far too much. 

"Aw don't gimme that look," The one-eyed man snorted, coming closer. They had a meeting to get to soon, up atop the pillars in this starsforsaken desert, and the others would show up rapidly in the fated place. But for now they remained at ground level, waiting. "Always so touchy for a guy who so happily has hands on him from higher up."

Xigbar was in arms reach, and Saïx growled low in his throat. His one and only warning. 

"I'd rather you not say such things in front of Xion." 

"Yeah and I'd rather be in a hot bubble bath with a bottle of champagne and someone eating strawberries off of my ass, but we can't always get what we want, now can we, moonbeam?" II snorted, before peering down at Xion - who had stayed close to Saïx's side, hand in her hold, head down. "Aw, what, hiding from your old buddy Xigbar? How've you been, Popp-" 

His hand had started to reach for her hood, intent to yank it back, and Saïx caught his wrist midair, preventing Xigbar from moving. 

"II." Gravel and growl, and Saïx tried to make sure that the pressure he forced into that hand was not also reflexively being put into the other. 

Xigbar only met his eyes and smirked, all honey and vinegar, head tilting and golden eye watching. "VII." 

"Gentlemen," A corridor opened up behind them, and Luxord stepped through, back straight, uncaring of their position. "Good morning."

"Well, look who it is-" Xigbar gave a faint grin at him and made to move, only for his wrist to still be in Saïx's unyielding grasp. He quickly looked back at the blue-haired Nobody, eyes narrowing. "Ya gonna let me go, blue, or am I gonna have to go grab mister Master to get a rolled-up newspaper for your nose?" 

Bastard. 

He let go, turning and moving so that he was entirely in front of Xion as Xigbar moved. 

"Morning, Lux. Meetin' time?" 

"Quite. Well, it is imminent, at least. You know how little the higher-ups like to be kept waiting. Saw you three out here and I thought it best that I remind you of your place." His yellow eyes scanned over the three of them - they didn't suit him. Saïx had never really cared for anyone in the original Organization, but Luxord was at least dependable. It did not feel right, seeing him used like this. The way Saïx had been for years. Or, one of the ways, at least. 

"Pretty sure moonbeam don't gotta be reminded of his place."  Xigbar snorted - an ugly noise. Saïx wondered how it would sound through a broken nose. "Surprised the big dogs even bother with giving him a seat half the time, since he's in Xemnas' lap so oft-" 

"Xigbar. Enough."

"What?" A cocky little laugh as Xigbar turned and looked at him again. "Don't tell me you're oh-so worried about Poppets precious little ears. You know what - I'm not surprised Xemnas put you in charge of her. You two can play house all you want. You just let me know when the divorce proceedings start." 

And with that he vanished into a corridor, breaking into a raspy cackle. Luxord gave a subtle roll of the eyes before glancing at Saïx - looking at least a little apologetic before vanishing also. Mocking - Saïx didn't want his false pity. 

Xion had not moved and remained silent, not reacting whatsoever to the goading. 

It would be fine. She was still forming - she would remember nothing until she was back to how she was. Not that he would be able to tell. Blank then, blank now. 

He glanced into the distance - far in the horizon he could see their pillars, waiting. He drew in a slight breath and shook his head. He could keep up the charade. Play the fool for a while longer. Mindless, useless Saïx, following orders and giving them, lapdog Saïx, doing as he was told.  It was his job to be a vessel. It was his duty to protect Xion. One far outweighed the other, but he had to act smart and play his role. He could not afford for anything to go wrong. 

 

He let a knee find the dust and looked up at Xion again. Blank and clean and pure. 

Stars, what he wouldn't give to be that again. 

"Xion," He kept his voice low just in case. He found his hands coming up, lightly straightening her coat collar, adjusting her sleeves so that they were long and not bunched up. The act came to him through instinct. "We have a meeting now. We shall go through another dark corridor to the meeting spot and you are to remain close to me. The ledge is narrow and the drop is steep. I am not sure if you can speak like this, but if you can, you should remain quiet. Interrupting Xemnas or Ansem may lead to… problems. Just do what you have been doing, alright?"

It took a second - as if in this state it took a while for information to be processed and sink in - but eventually she gave a low, single nod. 

"Good. Do… do you remember anything?" 

She remained impassive and still, blank, silent, and they needed to get moving. Saïx just shook his head a little, glancing away. Patience. 

"That's alright. You shall remember in time. But - in case you forget, please listen. You are Xion. I am Saïx - and I shall keep you safe, no matter what may happen. I promise you this. You are to stay by me and follow my orders. Do as I do, and everything shall be fine. Understand?" 

Something awful was in his stomach. He had always given orders, had always been the one to dole out jobs and organize missions and punish those that did not comply. But now, with a child, a child in his care… a child he had hurt before, a child he had to protect…. 

He had never felt more like Xemnas. Awful. Crushing.

But it would not be for long. He swallowed a little before standing, flicking his hood up and offering his hand once more. Xion took it and inched closer. They had to get going. 

"Stay still. And stay close." 

He would protect her. That was his place, his oath, his promise. That was who he was now. 

 

Maybe it would be better if she did not remember. 




 

 

The meeting ended, the others scattering with their orders. 

"Saïx," The voice from above said, low and lofty, dangerous, direct, and his own orders were incoming. He looked up at his Superior, expressionless, Xion attached to his hip. "You are to lower - we have things to discuss." 

"Yes, Superior." Automatic. His fangs nipped at the inside of his cheek after - hopefully speaking with Xemnas would at least be better than Xigbar. Not that the silver-haired man had ever been one for conversation. 

The pillars were empty, and Saïx lightly squeezed Xion's hand.

"Stay by me." He commanded, and she did not move. Teleporting down to solid ground was seamless, almost a relief, yet Xion remained as close as ever. As if the impending drop around them up there was not the reason for pressing against him. 

Odd. But - he could see her and she was safe. That was all that mattered. 

Xemnas was behind him in an instant, a fist wrapped in the back of his hood before it was yanked down - Saïx tried not to flinch. A few strands of hair had been pulled with the grasp, but he remained still, posture tall and shoulders back. A silent command to follow orders, to do as he was told, to obey Xemnas' old demands even now. Xemnas was not radiating anger nor the urge to destroy, fight, worse, and so Saïx kept himself passive and unreactive. 

"So… I see your little pet project seems to have paid off." Xemnas murmured and rounded to face him, eyes on Xion. Saïx’s skin crawled a little. "I have no memory of this vessel…. I am working upon yours and Vexen's recommendation alone on this. You comprehend that, do you not?" 

"Yes, sir." 

A hand came up and held Saïx's face, his cheeks, forcing him to look at Xemnas fully. He could feel his hand twitch in Xion's, squeezing hers. "So - if this puppet is not worthy, then it is your head on the line. It's failure is your failure. Do not disappoint me, Saïx."

He wanted to bare his fangs but knew better. Doing so never ended well, the urge long since trained away, and he needed to keep Xion away from trouble, from damage, from trauma. 

"I shall not, Master." Simple and clear. Xemnas had always seemed to prefer 'Master' to 'Superior' from him. Or he had, at least, back before Master Xehanort showed up. But with the conversation only being between the two of them, a subtle little ego-stroking was bound to keep Xemnas off of Saïx's back. And, if he was lucky, it would keep Saïx off of his back, too. 

"Good." A low rumble of approval, and that hand fell away. Good…. Good. "I have orders for you - since this vessel is one you are familiar with, it is to apprentice to you, follow you. Do not let it out of your sight." 

She, Saïx mentally corrected Xemnas. He had been cruel to do as Xemnas was doing now. 

But - he hadn't been planning to allow Xion to stray, and now he had all the more reason to be protective. Permission. He could work with that. He always had. 

"Vexen tells me that it's records show adept potential at learning. At absorbing and consuming power and making it its own. And, well… you are such an infinite power source, now aren't you? You are to feed it. Teach it. Allow it to take what it needs." 

She. 

"Ensure that it has what it needs, that you give everything to it that you can - as much of your lunar power as possible. It needs to be useful. Or it shall be destroyed. And then you shall be punished for your uselessness, in turn. Am I clear?" 

She!

"Crystalline." He tried not to growl, but he spoke through a clenched jaw. "Xion shall remain by me always." 

"Very well. My orders to you are absolute. Get to work. You are to train with it and push it until it makes a worthy member of our cause. You are dismissed." 

He didn't warn Xion this time - concerned that if he did so, Xemnas and those scathing, hollow eyes of his would see right through the ruse. But he squeezed her hand gently before summoning a dark corridor around them, taking her away from the powerful Nobody. 

Stars, he prayed that Xemnas would stay away. 

 

 


 

 

"This is a new place to you -," He said quietly as they stepped into the room. It was one of the training rooms he had frequently used back then - one with a few large, curtained windows that bathed the room in low light. The windows were large and the sky oppressive, big enough to let moonlight in, but not so wide that he was going to get overwhelmed at the sight of the fading halo above, that scattered white-pink corruption, all of his hard work and literal blood, sweat and tears lost and now - okay. So he was a little overwhelmed by it. But it was ignorable. It had to be. The floors and walls were densely padded, the windows heavily reinforced. An inmate cell for the Organization's most uncontrollable creature. No one knew of this place except he and his Xemnas. And now Xion. " - but this is a safe place for us to train. You heard what Xemnas said, yes? I am to aid you in gaining strength. We shall begin here."

He let go of Xion's hand to step into the room. The padding on the walls were large rectangular shapes, and behind one of those insulating cushions was a cabinet. He opened it, pulling the door aside as he spoke. 

"Do not fear - the room may seem constricting and oppressive but I have supplies in here. Some food, some water, some medical equipment. I…  had to spend many a week in here in isolation, originally, once upon a time. This place is safe and mine alone. We may speak without interruption. You may relax." 

Safe and his alone. Besides Xemnas, but it was doubtful that he would disturb them again today. He needed results, after all, and they had to act fast.

Xion stood where she was, and Saïx lightly cocked his head, beckoning her closer. He kept those windows behind him. The past where it should be. 

"Come. We can start here. Sit."

She did as she was told, coming to the center of the room and sitting, legs curled close to her chest. Small. She was… so, so small. Saïx knew that he could cut an imposing figure when he needed to, but - the sight of her there, hunched and low, the room around her open and restrictive, a prison…. Familiar. And painful. And unforgivable.

They could dip into his storage later to eat and rest and build her strength. If she was anything like him, she would need it - especially if she ended up taking on all of his abilities. He dreaded to think. He sighed as he pulled the zipper of his coat down. This room had always been where Xemnas had tossed him, back in the beginning, when Berserk had first been forced upon him. The moonlight direct but it's flow controllable, the walls and floors and storage door undamageable, everything soundproofed…. Berserk was born here. And now at least the place had some use that may at least do something good. 

He tossed his coat within the storage cupboard before closing it and coming over. It was always too warm in the cell. Berserk naturally absorbed the heat from the area before exploding out when it was usable, and perhaps one less black coat around may make Xion see him as a little more trustworthy. 

He came to sit in front of her, cross-legged and looking directly at her. Her bowed head, tucked-up knees, the way her gloved hands curled around them. Small. A child. 

He had been a child when it had happened, too. Or - Isa had been. The beginning was hard to remember, save for specific points of agony, save for the worst moments, save for the times he wished he could forget. 

And now he had to make up for causing similar pains to Xion. He had let Xemnas shape him into something awful. But it was never too late to turn the tide and fight back proper. 

Saïx raised a hand and tugged off a glove with his teeth, putting it into his pocket once his hand was free.

"Vexen and I have reports on you - from before. We made you to have the ability to duplicate. You can read others' strengths and adapt them for yourself. That is what Xemnas wishes for you to do - for you to take my strength and…." And be of use. And become corrupt. And die for his cause. "...And that shall work for us. I will not allow you to get hurt - I will not allow him to use you. But you need your strength up, and you need energy. So take mine."

A dangerous game to play. There was no moon here, not any longer, and so he could only take in so much of his own power, could only be so strong himself in this place. But this was the beginning, their first day. Xion could take and he would give, and as and when she needed more they would find alternatives. The wastes that Xehanort so seemed to love had a heavy, oppressive moon above it, one that felt as if it could shatter open and spill pure power down to the earth below at any given moment, but that was too much - too close, too strong, too overwhelming. 

This, for now, would do. 

"Please take my hand." 

He held it out to her again, bare, and he could see her head move. Deciding - if she could remember him, she remembered him as an unfeeling beast wrapped in black and barbs and scathing, painful remarks. Now, pale skin and simple shirt, maybe he was unrecognizable - and he was okay with that. Saïx could at least pretend that he was better. He was good at pretending. 

Slowly, her hand came to his.

"Our reports show that having a connection such as this helped reinforce your abilities. So today that is what we shall do. I shall try and allow power into my body, and you shall try to concentrate on it, understand it, and see if your body can replicate it. Alright?"

She gave a small nod, relaxing. 

He took in a slight breath. Strength - not a lot, but some. He willed it to gather in his fingertips, silent and fizzling beneath his skin. He wondered if she could remember - if his hand was more worrying than Roxas’. If Lea had done this, too. If she could not remember fully, just sitting and holding the hand of the beast that had tormented her must be… daunting. He should at least try to make things a little easier on her.

"...Would you like it if I keep talking? If I explain things? Or would you prefer to concentrate?"

She stared, blank doll that she was, and Saïx grimaced - stupid idiot, she can't answer. He shook his head slightly.

"Ah - forgive me - squeeze my hand if you wish for me to continue speaking. Shake your head if you want quiet."

She squeezed gently. He squeezed back without thought. 

"Alright. I am unsure how much you remember - or… if I ever really spoke of it at all to you, back then, but - my power comes from moonlight. And when I sustain enough damage or manage to channel that power properly, I enter a state called Berserk. I wish to avoid you learning how to enter that state if possible - you shall get hurt, and I don't want that. It is always painful.  I need you to be safe. So we shall start slow. Allowing moonlight into you - letting it bolster your movements, letting it fuel you, using it to make you stronger. Moonlight is not finite and there is plenty for me to give. I shall take it in, and you shall take it from me. Doing this should allow you to gain strength and recall your previous abilities. You will learn, and you will grow. You may even use my weapon, in time. But we shall get there."

She stared at him, or, he assumed that that was what she was doing. No eyes. No reactions. No way to read her. He just kept going - she would find a way to stop him if she needed to. 

"We will train daily. We must. Sometimes here, sometimes outside, sometimes back in the Graveyard. As your power grows, we will need to move in order for you to take in more of what I can give. I will need to take in more so that you can take in more. And as you may be able to see, the moon here is…." He looked out of that window. The outline of that fake Kingdom Hearts, warped and empty. "...Gone."

She tilted her head slightly. Questioning. 

"...A friend of yours came by and destroyed it." He answered, voice somewhat softer than he anticipated. It had been a long time since he had need or desire to soften himself. His tone rapidly flattened again, a ten year habit too hard to break. Factual and blunt and devoid of anything. That is what he was. That was who Saïx had always been.  "I had been told that that moon would help us. That it would be used to give us a new life. I wanted that more than anything. I was promised it. But it was a lie. Xemnas wanted to use it for Xehanort. To ruin things. To… start a war." 

He frowned, grinding his jaw a little. She kept looking at him, her silence ominous and innocent. 

"...Xemnas, and the others. Master Xehanort. They aim to have a war now. We shall fight as a part of it, and your friends are on the other side. They, Xemnas and Xehanort, they want us to both die for that cause. I will not allow that to happen - you will live. You will go on to reunite with your friends. You will have a future outside of this. You will have that new life."

He looked at where her eyes would be - and saw how her head dropped ever so slightly, focused on him, silent. Knowing. Understanding that he was leaving something out. 

 

"...You shall live. I will not."

 

She pulled her hand out of his, faltering. She curled her fingers slowly, letting her hand drop to the soft floor. 

"I am a Nobody. A being without a heart. I am not meant to be alive. I do not exist. We are different, and you have a life to live, a future to embrace, a destiny beyond this place, this purpose. In our final battle, I will do everything I can to ensure that you are you, that you remember, that you find your way to the right place, the right side, the right people. And I shall die afterward."

Xion's hand curled more - a fist. She then shook her head as if angry. 

"It must be done. I am not a person, Xion. I am-," A vessel. A failure. A puppet. "I… I am not who I am supposed to be. I do not desire to aid Xemnas nor Xehanort nor anybody except you and our friends. But there will be a fight, and I will not win. I will get you to safety and then I will die in that place."

That curled fist hit the padded floor and Xion's shoulders shuddered a little. 

"You do not understand, Xion - I shall die. It is inevitable. We shall fight, you and I. You will take my power and use it against me, and you will kill me, that fated day."

Her blank face looked away, shoulders curled. Upset. Even without a face he could tell - his words caused her fledgling heart turbulence. Why? He was not aiming to wound. He spoke only the truth, not intending to hurt her. She should not be upset. They were not friends, they were not…. Well. Anything. He didn't know. He wanted her to be safe, because he owed it to her, to Lea, to Roxas; but she owed him nothing. His death should be a joyous thought to her - the destruction of the Nobody who had hurt her so often. Saïx sighed a little. He had to give this temporary slip of nonexistence meaning. He had to make things right. He had to ensure that everything was all worth it in the end. He had to give the kids he had hurt a future, one he could never have. 

"...I was human, once. A long time ago. But I am not now - I am… hollow." 

He glanced out of the window. 

Hollow then and hollow now, hollow always. 

"...You have a heart. You feel things. You can form bonds with those that you care about. I cannot. I am… a vessel. A thing. The heart within me is Xehanort's, corrupt and evil. I do not have a heart, for it is long gone. The heart within you is yours and yours alone, made of hope and light and honesty, and it is safe within you. It is yours, and you are Xion. I will train you. I will give all that I can to ensure that you are able to survive. And then you will destroy me. And if, perhaps, I am lucky, fate will see to it that I may just be able to join my real heart, someday, after it all."

Xion would not look at him. 

"We… were not friends. You have existed before. As have I. And I hurt you. We have… a mutual friend, on the other side. You bonded with him. And that made me do and say things with the intent to hurt you. And when you are in the right place, when you are home and with that friend, you shall remember. You shall look at me and see the creature that hurt you. And you shall kill me where I stand. And it will be okay."

Her head turned back to him slowly. He looked back at her - he could not will emotion to his face, but tried to ease the scowl that he lived with. Saïx would die. And that was okay. 

"...I promise. It will be alright. Everything will be okay. I will make sure of it." 

She bowed her head, silent. Thinking it all through, maybe. Blank and unreadable, a shadow, an unfinished project. If Saïx could feel sad, he would. A child to go through all of this, to be torn from a place of safety, ripped from friends, changed… he tried not to let his memories intrude upon his thoughts. 

"...We do not have a lot of time. But we shall spend it together - and I will pour all of my power into you. You shall grow plenty strong enough in that time. Strong enough to take me out - permanently, this time. So do not fret. You will win. I will promise you that." 

 

She jolted and then lashed out - slapping at his hand that was still near, relaxed between them. She jerked her head up at him, mannequin face boring into him. Silent. 

 

Saïx did not understand. 




 

 

Every day they trained. Each day Saïx would take her to his quiet room and let her take his hand, and would concentrate on the remains of what was once his above them. 

 

"...Do you remember?" He asked each evening, and he never received a reply. 

 

Probably for the best. 

 

 


 

 

It was a week before they started doing more. 

Where he went, she followed, hand in his at all times. Both to keep her safe and in hopes that no matter where they were that some of his energy was feeding into her, helping her. 

But The World That Never Was and its safe, quiet room was not enough. And so to the Graveyard it was. 

He was not permitted to take her anywhere else. He did not have permission to leave, did not have authority from Xemnas or any of the other higher forms of Xehanort to travel. Where he went, they watched. Always. It was a miracle that none of them had brute-forced their way into his Berserk chamber before. 

Vanitas was quick to tut and make sneering noises behind his blank helmet. Young Xehanort so frequently rolled his eyes and turned his nose up at the sight of them. Xemnas leered, eyes wandering, and Saïx just had to remain impassive and focused, ensuring that Xion was behind him and out of sight as much as possible. He knew that it was not her that his Superior was looking at so intently. 

The Graveyard was immense and there were plenty of rocky quarries to hide away in, train in, talk in. It was not as safe as his hiding place, but it was necessary. Everything was. That was the slogan of his life for the last ten years. Betrayal was necessary. Murder was necessary. Allowing Xemnas to do what he wanted to him was necessary. 

"We shall train here today," He tried to dismiss his thoughts, leading Xion to a corner of the wasteland where there was plenty of space to move. "Let's see if you can recall your weapon. It is very important that we achieve that, at least."

And it would be a good sign that she was remembering, that her heart was starting to wake up. With the white, nearly heatless sun above, her face was more shadowed than ever. 

"Try it for me, Xion. It is the shape of a key, and it is a part of you. Hold out your hand, and see if it comes to you. Call for it, and it may answer." 

She did as she was told, holding her hand out expectantly. He stood back, giving her distance, his arms crossed as he analyzed her movements. 

Nothing. 

He watched the way she tilted her head slightly, then pushed her hand out again, trying. Shaking her arm a little. Flexing her wrist. Still nothing. He was sure that if she could frown, she would. She lowered that hand and bowed her blank head as if disappointed. He lightly shook his head and approached. 

"Do not worry. It is early days. We can try again later." 

She looked up at him, as impassive as ever. And then raised her other hand at him, expectant. 

He took it with a raised eyebrow. Giving - he could do that. If she needed more strength, she could take it. He would give it all if she needed it, if it kept her alive. 

Her other hand came up, her right, and she grasped the air with it, lightly clenching her fingers and reopening them. 

Sparkles - shimmers of blue and gold, faint and subtle. 

He made a noise, low in his throat. "...Very good. You're learning quickly. Perhaps I need to work on catching up to you. One moment."

 

He pulled his hand away - and Lunatic filled it instead. It was bigger than her, and a horrible vertigo sensation split through his scar.

 

At the end of days, she would be beneath this blade, and that thought was almost as bad as the image of her wielding it and using it for herself. Either way she would be in pain - and Saïx hoped that she did not see how he stared, mind wiped clear, cold prickles clawing into his chest.  No - he… they had to do this. She would take his power, and she would use it against him, and she would live. Those were his orders and his oath.

He was glad that his free hand did not shake as he offered it to her.

“Try again.” He tried to keep his voice firm, near-sharp, and was also glad that it did not waver. “It may be easier, with Lunatic here.”

 

He hated it. He hated it, hated it, hated what it was and what it meant and the fact that he had been forced to wield it. He hated what it symbolized, he hated that Xemnas had made him use it, he hated that it was his.

And he hated giving it to her. He was no better than Xemnas.

 

Berserk was a grumbling, writhing weight in his soul, and what he would not give for it to have died with the man he had previously been.




 

 

Her Keyblade was identical to the one that had killed him before. 

Fitting.

It took a while for it to come - each day they tried something new. Energy sharing, meditation, lightly sparring barehanded, continuously trying to get either her blade or Lunatic to materialize. She was glued to him, his hand always in hers. 

Xion was strong - and her Keyblade reliable.  They made good progress together.

It was a shame that he had been so blind before.

But there was nothing he could do about that now.

 

 




As they started working for the day, he caught a glimpse of a black coat near their usual area. Watching. Waiting. 

Saïx sighed and ground his teeth. Stars. He had been hoping that this would not have started up again, that he would not be needed like this in these few last, short weeks. 

He lightly pat Xion's back as he passed her. 

"I have unavoidable business to attend to. Stay here, and stay safe. Train on your own for a short while."

She of course said nothing, and only watched as he approached Xemnas, the two of them vanishing into a corridor. 




When he returned he had bruises along his jaw, and his hair was a mess, and Xion did not have the ability to ask questions. 

All she could do was try and neaten his ruffled coat for him - doing what she did and mimicking.

And all he could do was ignore the way he drooped a little, exhausted and used - doing what he did and letting himself do what was necessary for them to survive. It would not be much longer now. 

A few weeks was nothing compared to ten years. 




 

 

They journeyed back to The World That Never Was semi-frequently for Vexen to lightly poke and prod at her. They were never there long, but whenever there Saïx’s voice would dip as he and Vexen talked of secret, unknowable things. It made her feel small and stupid, but she knew that there were many things about to come to pass - she was only a single, little vessel, and Saïx had to be responsible, had to set things right, had to ensure that many moving pieces were doing what they should.

He always looked tired.

The scientist would examine her when they visited, pushing her hood back and tilting her this way and that, checking her heart, her hands, her functions. Whenever he would do this, Saïx would look away, back to her, and she did not understand if the sight of his back was a comforting one or a concerning one.

As soon as her hood came back up, he would return to her side and her hand would find his.

“Getting rather attached, aren’t you, VII?” Came calling after them one day as they left, and Saïx’s stride did not break beside hers.




 

 

His claymore was massive in her hands and the sight of it wounded him. He had been that size, that age, that young and small and impressionable when it was forced upon him, too. Berserk had not reared up in her yet, but he could feel it within him - bristling, loathing, snarling. It wanted to be rid of this place, these Nobodies, to be far away and safe and gone. 

But he could only keep going, keep working, keep fighting. It was necessary. It was what he did. 

Her copied version of his weapon was smaller than the real thing, shaped to fit her, but it still hurt him. And it would hurt him. It had to. 

"We shall spar." He said it simply, encouraging the real Lunatic, hated thing that it was, to his grip. "Block as much as you can. Feel its weight, its momentum, let it lead and you follow. As you get accustomed to its size and shape, let your legs do the work rather than your arms. Alright?" 

He saw her hooded head give a nod and she mimicked him, holding her duplicate blade almost awkwardly. Apprehension was a thing that his polluted, borrowed heart allowed him to remember. He did not want to swing first. She wasn't ready. She was too small, too inexperienced, too young, too vulnerable. 

Saïx steeled himself, drawing in a long breath to focus. 

He just knew that no one had ever thought those things about him before, back then. 

He was not Xemnas. He just had to act like it. In this moment, he had to follow orders from him. But, as always, Saïx was arrogant, treacherous and uncontrollable. He would make things right if it killed him - and it would. And that was okay. He altered his grip - holding the hilt lower, letting the spike at the end of it dig into his bicep. Doing so would allow him to swing with less force, more control, less chance of hurting her - the pressure on him, instead, the pain biting and keeping him alert. It was a start. 

"Are you ready, Xion?" 

He saw her nod, and he tried, mindless animal that he was, not to think about what he was doing. 






 

"I do not like what I see." 



They had been at it for weeks, maybe two months by now. Xion could summon her Keyblade now, and her skills at wielding her version of Lunatic were improving slowly but steadily. She had not yet tapped into Saïx's abilities fully yet, but a version of his weapon coming to her hand readily was still a real good start - in her foggy, not fully formed opinion, at least. 

Xion saw Saïx jolt slightly at the voice as it came from nowhere - he had never done that before - and Xemnas was behind him, back straight, arms folded behind him, eyes narrow at her and her alone. He had interrupted their training, and she could see Saïx subtly move to stand in front of her. 

"Master, I-" 

A hand was immediately at his throat, and Saïx was a statue, hands taut and tense at his side. He was trying not to react, not to reflexively fight back, and Xion could not move. This… what was happening? What was going on? 

"Time is running short and so is my patience.  This vessel is not strong enough yet. See to it that you make progress rapidly, Saïx. I will not tolerate this toy falling apart when it is needed. Am I clear?"

Saïx couldn't nod with his jaw held up like that, his stance awkward, on the tips of his toes - and instead his voice seethed out, wispy and strained. 

"Yes, sir." 

Xion didn't understand - she was working, she was getting better, Saïx was teaching her… why was… was Xemnas hurting him? What… what was happening? 

She watched their Superior lean in close to Saïx's pointed ear, voice too low and deep for her to hear from the distance she was from him. But she saw Saïx pale more, ever so slightly, and caught how Xemnas' hand moved over the column of his neck - Saïx had swallowed defensively, nervously almost. But… Saïx could not feel fear. He couldn't feel anything… he was a thing, right? Hollow…. That is what he had said. Saïx didn't feel anything. He was…. Hurting. 

Their Superior released him and Saïx quickly took a step back - still in front of her, an arm extending out slightly, reflexively, and blocking her from Xemnas entirely. 

"I - understand. Sir. I shall work harder. You shall see progress soon." 

"You better. Do not let me down, VII." Was all Xemnas had to say, glaring sharply, before darkness swallowed him up and he was gone again. 

It had all happened so fast - Xion didn't understand, couldn't - she looked up at Saïx, watching the way his arm lowered and dropped inch by inch, cautious. He was breathing heavily. His face was as blank and impassive as ever. Just like hers. 

 

"...We must get back to work." 

 

It was all he said, and it was all they did. 

 

 


 

 

"I must tell you something." He warned as he dusted off her coat, crouched, straightening it out for her before a meeting. They had trained all morning, as they had done for weeks, and her Keyblade was a comfortable extension of her right hand now. He was the extension of her left.

She looked up at him - blank doll face impassive and nothing. 

"...This place. Above us, the moon is not as it should be. It is full - swollen. It is absolutely full of power, because it is Kingdom Hearts."

He frowned, lips pinched at the edge, his scar crinkling slightly. Xion tilted her head down at him, not understanding. 

"It is the real thing, I mean." He gave a slight sigh and stood, and they began walking, one of his gloved hands finding hers naturally. "It is the most immense and purest source of power in existence. And it is a moon." 

Oh… well, that was good… right? 

"When the final battle comes, it will be here, beneath this moon. If I go Berserk, I will… not be myself. I will not be in control. I will be a monster." 

That didn't sound right. Saïx was… he wouldn't do that. 

"I will not be able to break free of it. I will be wild and I will try to destroy everything, whether it is friend or foe. I will not be in my right mind. I will not be me. And I will need to be put down." 

This again… Xion lightly shook his arm, and he glanced down at her, face almost not neutral. The slightest crease on his forehead, a subtle sign of distress and worry. Xion knew it would be okay. It… had to be, right? 

"I am telling you now because I am growing more and more aware of it. The moon here is oppressive and my power will be consuming. I will not be me anymore. And not in a good way - all will be lost to me. I shall be blind and wrathful. I will be a beast. And I may try to hurt you again." 

A beast and a puppet. A monster and a toy. Quite the combo they made. Xion shook at his arm again, more, staring up at him. 

"Cut that out," He didn't look at her, but his tone sounded - lighter, nearly. Playfully pestered. New. Weird. Nice. "I just want you to be safe. And in that last fight, I will not be safe to be around. You are to attack me without hesitance and without mercy. I need to be destroyed. I must. Understand?" 

She looked away from him. She didn't want to do that. 

When she did not react and did not answer, he just let out a tiny sigh. They were there. And they were running out of time. 

"Stay close to me," He murmured, and she inched closer, shoulder at his right side. He summoned the corridor around them and brought them up to his perch within the circle. The others were not there yet. His voice was low and careful. "You are doing well. I know you will do what is right. You always have." 

Xion glanced down, the dusty ground so very far beneath them. Ongoing and surrounded by endless danger, constant threat, continuous exertion. It was hard, and they were doing their best, and each day passed by quicker than the last. And she pressed closer, unwilling to let Saïx stray from her grasp. 




 

 

They trained constantly, those above always wanting more, more

They fought until they were both exhausted, sweating, hunched and heaving and just fucking tired

He was going to sleep so much once he was dead. 

He swept his hair up and out of his collar for a moment, straightening himself out, and the dry, windless air of the Graveyard was beginning to make him feel ill. He was taking in power constantly, in and in and in, then out and out and out, draining and draining and draining. Following orders. Fulfilling his duty. His body truly the ultimate vessel. 

Ansem found them as they were both panting, exhausted, their fight having ended with a stalemate clash and promise. Xion was getting stronger. Any day now, any day soon, and the sky would split open. They had allowed their weapons to vanish as they recovered, the world airless and oppressive. It always would be. But on that day instead, a corridor opened up and Ansem wandered out and spoke casually, as if their existence was simple. As if they had been at this for years. His tone as light and uncaring as if asking about the weather. 

 

"...How is your little parasite, mutt?"

 

Saïx was nose to nose with him in an instant, exhaustion be damned, rank be damned, self-preservation be damned, and Xion's eyes would be wide if they existed. 

The adrenaline of their fight must have still been coursing through him, she must not have fed off of his power enough, he was seemingly full and desperate. His hands were balled at his side - in his right mind enough not to outright strike down one of their superiors - but Saïx, entirely, was tense and livid. She heard him growl something lowly, teeth bared, fangs, face sharp and eyes sharper. It wounded her. 

"She is not a parasite. Her name is Xion." 

Why did the name for her get a reaction, but not mutt? She didn’t understand. Saïx was not Berserk but he most certainly was angry. Ansem was unfazed, however, tan face smooth and flawless and enviable. He gave a slight snort, head tilting as if humoured by Saïx’s proximity, his dedication, his reaction, his existence.

"Hah, right. Just like how yours is so most assuredly I-" 

He growled loud enough to block it out, eyes crackling, power palpable. Even tired, even drained, even being leached off of, Saïx was a threat. An impenetrable wall of fury and moonlight, vicious and just and ready

"Make no mistake," She heard him snarl. "I serve our cause fully, but I do not serve you. Keep your inane comments to yourself, and leave me to do my job."

That's all this was. A job. They were both forced into this. Xion watched in silence, thoughts fuzzy, face featureless. Neither of them wanted to be here. She was a plaything, an empty mannequin, a chewtoy for the beast. Saïx… did not feel anything. He could not feel anything. 

But his face twisted as Ansem inched closer, protective rage and defensive care spewing into the air in waves. His anger was righteous and his. 

"You'd better bring all of this fight to the main event, boy." Ansem's voice was so deep that it nearly hurt her ears. Cocky and goading. "Finally good to see you being worth our time, mutt. Don't fail us again - and do not try to run as Vexen has. Just because Xemnas covets your useless ass does not mean the rest of us do. Leave our sight and scurry off again and we will destroy you." 

"Are you interrupting my apprentice and I just to say inane drivel? I hope that you have a more succinct plan than merely actively disturbing what you want on that fated day, Xehanort.

A scoff, right in his fanged, scarred face - and Ansem was gone again. The space before Saïx was empty, wisped vapours of darkness the only sign that Ansem had been there to deliver the warning at all. She watched as Saïx drew in a deep breath, calming himself, before he turned back to her, face blank and impassive. 

"Some things never change. Even now I cannot get work done without constant interruption."

He sighed, tone different to usual - crisp and airy, as if it were some kind of mutual joke between them. She didn’t get it. They were not friends before. Xion could not define what they were now. But he, he could. Work. A job. She was a burden that he had been saddled with. A responsibility forced upon him. He did not feel and he did not care, because he couldn't. 

She was barely aware of him coming over and lightly straightening her coat out for her, his hands careful and cautious, and he was kneeling in front of her again - the way a man seeking repentance and forgiveness does. 

"Let's keep going," His voice dipped as he gently adjusted her collar, not moving her hood, never doing so. A boundary that was impassible, a silent shield from the world and the darkness within it. Saïx was low and beneath her as he fixed her up, made sure that she was okay, did not look at her face. "I know you are tired, but we cannot afford to stop. We have to keep up appearances - to keep them at bay, if nothing else. We have to keep going. It is our only choice, Xion."

He stood slowly, equally tired, and held out his hand. It was a chore.

She looked up at him, blank and void. 

And he looked down upon her, void and blank. 

 


 

“Do you remember anything?”

He asked idly, their training for the day finished, and they were both sat. Weapon maintenance was quiet and a good time to reflect, to sit and recoup after a fight, and should they be interrupted yet again they had an excuse to be sitting and talking. Xion had been doing so very well. Saïx wished he could feel. Things truly never change.

“...d…o…yo…u?”

It was a quiet, pained rasp. Talking was hard and it made her shudder - and Saïx looked over at her, Lunatic upright in his lap as he wiped it down, his face unreadable. His hands fell still as he searched her and her white, seamless plate of a face.

“...Do I remember you?” He replied, trying to confirm what she was asking. His voice was clipped and almost surprised.

She shook her head, faceless and silent, talking again too much for her to manage. Her Keyblade laid horizontally over her knees, her small hands resting on it. That was not what she wanted to know.

“...Do… I remember… before?” Saïx frowned, lightly confused.

Before. He had existed before, right? That was what he had said? He had been human once. Before. He had been Saïx before, he had said - if he came back once, he could come back again, surely? And Ansem had been about to call him something, something she did not understand. If Saïx had died and then come back, then if - when - he died again, he could come back again, it could work, they could live. Xion nodded up at him, needing to know. There was a chance…. 

He sighed and looked away. “Yes. I remember.”

 

She inched closer - a small shuffle in the dust until she was right at his side, and he glanced at her. The faintest shadow of humour at the movement - a raised eyebrow, the blank skin at the corner of his mouth nearly twitching. 

 

“It is not an interesting story. And it shall be ending soon. It is not one worth telling, Xion.”

Her little fist hit at his shoulder, light and ineffective, and she kept staring at him. He snorted, face unchanging, unharmed whatsoever.

“Alright, alright. It is a story that has ended before, and I am here again. Is that what you want to hear? That part?”

She nodded rapidly, wishing she had a face for him to see. He seemed to read her either way, able to understand what she needed, always. Saïx shook his head - hair swishing against his collar, hands still sweeping the length of his hated weapon, cleaning the dust off of the steel.

“I thought as much.” He murmured. “I… suppose it is a secret that is safe with you. You shall forget everything that has happened in this time, when you wake up. In our last moments together, you will be you again, as you were before. These last few months will be gone, as will I, and you will be the person you used to be before all of this.”

Xion wished she could frown. She didn’t understand, and she did not know if she ever would - did she want to forget? When she remembered the past, would the present vanish? She hung her head a little as Saïx’s voice rung in her ears. The vessel that she was now, it would vanish and no longer exist, not as it did in this moment. She would be gone. Just like him. She gave a little sigh, but looked up at Saïx, her protector, watching the way his hands moved over Lunatic, the way his golden eyes avoided her as he thought on the past.

“...I died. As a human, I died. And then I woke up. And I was Saïx, as you see me now. Your age, back then, but me. You were one of us, as were our friends. And then I died. As a Nobody, I died.” He did not look at her as he spoke, his focus on his hands, his eyes distant and tired. Saïx always looked tired. He never slept, not one minute in these last few short months. He could soon. “...When a Nobody dies, if its heart is out there and free, they return to be as a human once more. I died. For a very short time, I lived again.”

She stared at him - if she could blink, she wouldn’t. Saïx had been human again, after it all. But now he was here again. And now he was ready to die again. If his heart was out there-

“I did not even wake back up - they tore my heart out and put Xehanort’s in while I was still asleep.” He said it very, very quietly, incredibly careful of any listening ears or incoming shadows. “My heart is gone again. And I am a vessel once more. And I shall die again, in hopes that this time, at least, it is for the better.”

She hit him again, her punch nothing against his strong shoulder, and he almost smirked at her.

“Cut that out. Do not mistake me - whether I become human again or not, whether my heart is out there or not, I shall still die. It is what must be done. There is a chance I will return; but I will not be me.”

Xion tilted her head at him. He had come back before, and while she did not remember, she trusted everything he said - she had to. They were a team. Why would he not be back as himself? He was here now, Saïx was here, and everything would be okay.

“...If my heart is out there, anywhere, I need to die. I will die - and I shall do so in hopes that perhaps that that new life I was promised will one day find me.”

Saïx wanted to live. Saïx wanted to live, new and different. Saïx wanted to die so he could live again. Xion's hand shook - but she lifted it, and lightly tapped at his chest. She couldn’t ask, unable, could not make him see her expression or what she wanted or what she had to hear. He looked at it - her hand on his chest, before glancing up at her; gold eyes scanning over her nothingness. There was nothing in there, nothing beneath her hand, but it had to be out there somewhere.

 

“...his name was Isa.” He said it simply, softly, and again very, very quietly. So low that she almost didn’t catch it, and Xion stared. He truly looked like he had not slept in a decade, too haunted, too torn open. “The person I used to be. The person I may be again, some day. Should you desire to find him, that will be his name again, after I am gone. Once you remember, that is, but…. He would understand if you do not - he, I’m sure, will expect you to not want him in your life. He will be alive in my place. We are one in the same, and we both hurt you, before. You will remember, and he will not hold it against you should you hate him, and prefer him to be gone. I know I don't."

 

She could feel her shoulders drop, her hand falling away from him. Her body - this useless vessel - it felt tired and drained. They had done so much in such a short time, and they had to keep going. There was still more to be done, and whether the story ended or not, they were a part of it. There was hope out in the darkness - a new life, a fresh beginning, things starting again.

But Saïx would still die. And he would die fighting for a heart that wasn’t his.

She would forget him, him now, Saïx now, and she would remember what he had been. No one would know what he had done, no one would comprehend what he had been, and he would vanish from existence entirely.

"...But you will forget. You will forget me as I am now, and you will forget that name, and you will be you, as you should be, unburdened by all of this. You won't remember, and that is okay. Everything will be okay, in the end. I will make sure of it."

Quiet and soft, and Saïx idly turned Lunatic in his hold to clean off the other side. Xion wished she could frown. She wished she could say something, do something, communicate somehow that all of this made her feel terrible inside. Close as they were, part of her wanted to lean into him, offer the most meager physical contact just to prove that she was there and she would remember. But it wasn't her place, and they were not friends. Saïx... didn't have friends. Saïx didn't have anything. He couldn't.

“Tomorrow we shall work on your arm strength some more.” The conversation was over, the vulnerability gone, and Saïx did not look at her still. “You can hold both your weapon and mine now. We need to make sure that you can use them thoroughly. You shall need to hit hard enough to break through my Berserk state when that time comes. So tonight we rest. And tomorrow you need to give it your all and not hold back against me. Do your best, Xion.”

 

She would, she would give it her all - because Saïx would give her his all, too.




 

 

She screamed as Berserk tore through her for the first time - too much - too strong - overwhelming, out of control, agony. 

She wailed, thrashing, every part of her being begging for relief, for it to stop, to go away, burning and ripping and tearing at her from the inside out. She howled, fingers digging into the dust, the stone, the hilt of her weapon and - protective, powerful arms wrapped around her as she went to claw, double-handed, into her own empty face, the center of it desperate to split open and spill her skull and rage and endless endless despair out and out and out, pain, it was too much, so much, all the time. Burning, tearing, raw and eternal, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt-

"Shhh, shh, I’m here-," Her weapon was thrown aside by him immediately and she sank to her knees, stronger ones nearby lowering her carefully, a voice that did not have the ability to be gentle doing its best. A gloved hand came to the back of her hooded head and pressed her to his chest, and her hands tore into him, curled in his coat, an anchor in the storm. She rocked, blank forehead pressed to black leather and blue hair and she sobbed, the pain so immense and throbbing and sickeningly strong that she wished that the war would come right then and that Saïx was a liar, that she would meet her end, just to make it stop, make it stop, make it stop it hurt it hurt it hurt - "Shh, shush now, it's alright. I have you. I have you. It's alright. It will be okay. I promise. Shhh…." 

She hoped that it was progress enough to stop Xemnas coming back, not grab Saïx like that again. That it would stop Ansem and his barbs. That it would stop. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt.

The rocking didn't stop, even as she did, unable to function. 

"I have you. It will be okay. It will be okay. I know it hurts. Shhh… I know. I know. It will be okay. I promise. I promise. Shh-shh-shh."

It hurt so badly that she passed out in that encompassing hold, drained and tormented and safe. 






The weeks spiraled together rapidly. Every day was draining. Every night was ongoing. 

He brought her to that dark, quiet, spongy place, one last time. 

"Please stay here -" Had he ever said please to her before? He must have, but… it sounded weird. Different. More pleading. "I - must go. I need to check something. I shall be back soon. Stay here and try to rest. I will not be long." 

She tilted her blank face at him, but then nodded. The quiet, soft room was nice and far away from everything else. She could rest here unguarded without worry. 

"...o….kay…Sa…-aaïx." She managed, voice rasping. He could not see her mouth but could hear her - and Xion could see his eyes widen very slightly with recognition. She was returning, just in time. Saïx gave a nod and vaguely indicated to the cushioned flooring. Xion noticed then that along the padding were long scrapes, scars, places where claws had dug into the material. This place was… secret, safe, and heartbreaking. 

"Sleep, if you can," His voice broke her out of her hazy thoughts. "Eat if you hunger, take what you need from my stores. Use this time to rest before tomorrow. We can meet back up soon, and we can return back, but just - stay put. For now."

She nodded again, throat tight. Leaving her… Saïx was going somewhere. Again. Like before, with Xemnas. She didn't want him to go, but… he wouldn't leave her for no reason. And this time he seemed… less. Less something. Or maybe not less, but just more. More pushed for time, more eager to go, more hopeful. He wasn't going somewhere against his will this time, maybe. But if he left, if he went somewhere where they couldn't see, they would destroy him… right? But,... Xion wished she could frown. That day was coming anyway. This might be his last chance to do something, to make this better. She could not be in his way, not anymore. And so she sat carefully in his room and looked up at him. 

He gave his own, faint, unsure nod back. "Yes. Right. Okay, I shall - I shall return shortly. Stay safe." 

Concern. Subtle and fleeting. Just like him - he was gone in an instant, darkness swallowing him whole, and Xion stayed where she was in that soft, silent room. 

The ruined moon up there looked awful. 

She wondered if it looked that bad on the nights back then where this room was torn up so badly. 






He did indeed return quickly, and Xion had no idea where Saïx had been. He woke her up, kneeling by her and gently shaking her shoulder; the cell they shared was soft and protected and theirs. 

"Xion. We need to move." He said as she stirred, and she sluggishly sat up on her knees, facing him. She could see his eyes move over her lack of a face, ever-watching, checking to make sure she was not hurt. He swallowed slightly - as Xion did the same, looking him over. There were no more new bruises. His voice was low and surprisingly gentle. "...I have something for you."

 

She tilted her head to respond and he reached into a pocket - and pulled out and then handed her something small, thin, and made of wood. 

-WINNER-

It was warmed by sunlight and hands and smelled familiar, salty-sweet. She did not know what it was. 

 

"...keep it safe for me." He asked of her, eyes downcast. "If you would. A good luck charm, perhaps. It may mean something to you." 

It did not at the time, but it was a gift. A final, parting thing. She gave a little nod and put the stick into her own pocket. He stood, and held out his hand. 

"Stay with me." As always. And together they left. 

They had time that evening for one last sparring session out in the wasteland, one final swell, one more push towards usefulness. For both of them. 

Tomorrow was the day. 

They sat on a ledge in the orange ash, their final session together coming to an end out in the wasteland, and the sun was sinking into the horizon. The dust was streaked with long, haunting shadows, the air dry and catching, the silence ringing on and on around them. 

She had seen him sit like that before… legs crossed, hands on his knee, back hunched as if being pulled downwards with grief. She had seen it before… some time ago. Back when he was still him yet also a different person, maybe. 

"When your friends return for you, they may not remember you." Saïx said it quietly, distantly, cautiously. "They do not seem to, yet. If this is the case when the fight begins, do not get upset. Their hearts will just need a second to connect with yours. I remembered you, after all." 

"w…. W...why?" It's a croak, scratchy and tired. Saïx looked at her from under his hood, and she could see his eyes even if he couldn't see hers. 

"Why do they not remember?" 

She shook her head. 

"Why do I remember?" 

She nodded. Saïx was quiet for a moment and looked back into the distance, the fading sun. 

"...I made you. Or - I aided in it, at least. You were created, and I was one of the people to design you, put you together, ensure that you… functioned." 

Made. Created. Functioned. Xion was a thing just as he was. Something to be piloted and controlled and shaped. They were the same, she and him. Xion did not know how to feel or if she even could. 

"I was meant to be responsible for you. I found the documentation of you, mine and Vexen's work revolving around you. Our connection was different, mine and yours - not like the connection between your friends or anything else. I did not remember you fully. I still do not. I am unable to see your face. But you have one, because you are a person with a functioning heart. You are not a puppet or a creature. You are you, and you are whole. Of the two of us, I am the broken one."

She tried to make a noise - an unpleasant grumble back in her throat, but nothing came out. Talking was hard and it was draining. And the light was fading fast. 

"...It will be night, soon," Saïx noted, quiet, and he drew in a breath. "I shall stay awake, as always, and I shall draw in as much power as I can from the moon here. See that you use it - take all of it, as much as you can handle. There will be an abundance tomorrow and I shall not be able to be myself - I will be a danger, and I will be violent. I will get you to safety, and you will do what you need to. We cannot fail, Xion. We have to work together. We have to win." 

Xion just nodded, watching him from the corner of her eye. The sunset on his pale skin, the glow of his eyes, the scar so deeply ingrained into his face that it defined him and his worth. It… would be nice to see it again, someday, when the light was warmer and the oncoming dawn not such a daunting one. 

"...Y… y... es."

She held her hand out tentatively, looking to him for support. He glanced at her small hand before taking it and squeezing, face neutral, grounding himself and not looking at her at all. Unable to. 

 

"I shall not fail you. Not again." 

 

Focused, steadfast, loyal.

 

She remembered Saïx. 






"Do you remember?" He asked quietly.

The heroes were coming, and the hot wasteland air smelt of death. Stood facing one another, but not for the last time. His hands found her little shoulders. It was a gesture that Saïx did not know why he gave, but he did it nonetheless. Steadying both her and himself. He lightly pulled at her collar and at the edge of her sleeves, straightening it for her. 

"You can do this, Xion. Your friend will be here. You will remember everything when you see him. You will be your old self, I will make sure of it."

"...and….then…?" It hurt to talk. It hurt to think of what came next. 

"And then you shall make me proud." 

And that was that. 






Axel… Roxas… Axel… Roxas… Axel… 

Saïx's voice, strong and guiding. Almost soothing. Immensely confusing. 

Roxas… Axel…. Roxas… Axel? 






Berserk tore through her, agonising and blinding. Every cell in her body screamed, and they screamed in unison with Saïx in front of her, shielding her, roaring in pain and irreversible fury. 

 

And then she was different - human, puppet no longer, flesh and hair and eyes and a face rather than what she had been. 

But he couldn't see - his face was open and raw, consumed by fire and scar and pain, his eyes pupilless and endless, devoid of control. She wished she could have seen the pride. She wished they could have met under better circumstances. She wished she could have remembered earlier. She couldn't hold him as he had done for her. 

 

The world was awash with fire and heat and swirling, all-encompassing light. The sounds of metal clashing, the mystical scent of moonlight, the burn of exertion, and the sensation of bone giving way beneath her Keyblade, fueled by strength that didn't belong to her. The stick in her pocket splintered and shattered as his ribs did. 

He had been right. 

 

 


 

 

She watched as Saïx died. 

She hadn't seen him smile before. 

Xion cried, tears spilling down her cheeks, her hands curled into empty fists.

They held her, but it was not the same. 






"...He said he would come back." 

 

She remembered. He had been wrong about one thing, at least - she did not forget their time together. It was fuzzy, but it was there. The heart within her was hers and honest and breaking.

She said it quietly, after Kingdom Hearts was sealed away and the battle over, their band of exhausted heroes trailing away. The others were out of earshot, reconnecting with one another. She looked out over the labyrinth, and could not discern where their fight had been. Where she had remembered. Where he had died. 

"Huh?" Axel - Lea - turned to her. "What's that?" 

"He promised." She frowned, peering into the darkness. The sky was empty now. No more moon. Everything was hard and loud and she was so tired. "...It isn't fair."

Roxas mimicked her frown and tilted his head at her. "Xion? What do you mean?"

"We - we need to set things right." She looked up at Lea and gave a firm nod, serious and as stern as she could be. Focused, steadfast, loyal. Maybe she had taken more from him than just his power. "We have to go find him. He's out there. It's our duty." 

"Who - Xehanort?" 

"Saïx," She nearly growled and her eyes stung. Lea stared at her, unblinking and fraught with turmoil. "He said he'd come back. He said it would be okay. It's not okay - it isn't - it isn't alright - he said it would be alright but it's not.

She was crying before she could stop it. Her grief spilled down her cheeks in fat, unstoppable drops.

"Where did he go?" She sobbed up at Lea, and could see how immediately his eyebrows knit together, his jaw clenched. "Why - we should have helped him. Why didn’t we help him? He’s meant to be here too." 

"Xi, we - we couldn't." Lea pleaded - he had held the Nobody as he faded and they had watched. There was no other way that this could have ended. "He… he was - he had to die. He was out of control, he wanted to destroy everything, Xion, he wanted to hurt you." 

"No he didn’t -” That was never the case, he wanted to protect, to rebuild, to live. “It wasn’t his fault. It's not right." She huffed, fists balled, face wet. "We have to get him back. He promised. He wouldn’t break a promise, he wouldn’t."

She hunched, head bent as he cried. She tugged at her sleeves, bringing them over her hands to scrub at her face. She wanted to claw it open, double-handed. She knew that she could feel, and she felt awful.

“We - we have to make things right - it's not fair - he - he….”

She couldn’t feel Lunatic, moonlight or power or anything, her hand empty, her body devoid. Roxas’ hand found her back, and Lea’s found both of her shoulders. He crouched slowly, kneeling to look up at her, and Xion couldn’t bear it. 

“Xion - it’s okay. It’ll be okay. I’m sorry….” Lea offered gently, his hands lightly rubbing her arms. “I’m …sorry. I don’t know what happened, but… it’ll be okay now.”

“Not until he’s home,” She hiccuped and met Lea’s gaze - and she saw a light turn on within his brain, almost, the words ringing true and making sense somewhere. “We have to find Isa, we have to. His heart is out there, it has to be, it-,”

She could feel a tiny weight in her pocket, broken. As he had been. Xion grit her teeth and tried to stop crying, but couldn't. She let her hand find it and brought it out - splinters of popsicle stick all mashed together and crumpled, and she held them out to Lea, her shoulders shaking. She tilted her hand - and the fading light of the evening was bright enough for WINNER to shine, the embossed text split apart but legible. She sniffed a little, and she was so tired.

 

“...he said it was for good luck.”

 

Lea’s expression was unreadable as he stared at it, eyes wide. Surprise, relief, pain, joy, sadness, loss, all of them rolled into one. His voice dipped carefully as he spoke, solid and human and familiar. Determined. Steadfast.

“...We’ll find him. And we’ll bring him home together. Okay? I promised him that too.” Lea gave a little nod, eyes set and determined on hers. Roxas lightly squeezed at her shoulder, and Lea pat her arms gently, supportively. Surrounded. Safe. Xion did not know if she missed that little room or not. Even the ruined, broken halo of a moon was better than none. “It'll be okay, Xion. I promise.”

"We'll do it together," Roxas wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. "We're a team, right? We can do it. It'll all be okay."

Xion just gave a little nod, and carefully folded the broken stick back into her pocket. She sniffed a little, before adjusting her coat, neatening it, and tugging her sleeves down so they did not bunch up.

"... let's... get to work."

She tried to smile, but her face ached.

 

 

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