different name, same fate

It was one of Saix’s first few real missions. He was still getting used to carrying around his weapon, so he mostly did reconnaissance. He’s spotted, though, and has to fight. He swings a bit too hard, the weapon slipping out of his hands and hitting his mid-back. It dematerializes, and he’s still in front of a fair few Heartless.

“Ah!” Saix exclaims, moving immediately to touch at his back. It stings, feels bruised and deep. He feels tears welling up in his eyes. The mission is a failure, and he needs to make his escape. He summons a corridor, and makes his way back to the castle as quickly as his body will let him.

He seeks out Xemnas first. The castle was quite empty, everyone was on their own missions. It takes some time to get to Xemnas’ room. He knocks, hoping he’s in there today.

“Lord Xemnas, I…” The adrenaline leaves him, and he crumples to the floor. He has one hand on the door. “Please, I need help.”

For once, Xemnas is there. The door opens, and Saix’s hand falls off and lands right by Xemnas’ boot. He doesn’t have the strength to look up at him. Saix just knows there’s disappointment on those features.

Xemnas must be able to see the wound. He leans down just a little to touch around it. “What happened?” His touch, his words, everything is perfectly clinical and emotionless. Saix wanted comfort, wanted to be told it would all be okay. That he wasn’t a failure, that he was still a valuable person among these ranks.

“I…” He needs to lie. “There was a strong Heartless where I went on a mission. It was unexpected. It got me good.” He feels tears well up in his eyes again.

Xemnas moves away, moving to pull Saix up by the arm. He winces, but ultimately stands. Xemnas lets him go, and walks further into his room.

“Come in. We don’t need you dying on us. I will treat your wound.”

Saix nods numbly, tears trailing down his cheek at the pain. He tries to avoid any white furniture, a seemingly impossible task. For now, he simply stands.

He watches Xemnas return to where Saix is, stitches and disinfectant in hand. Saix’s heartbeat quickens. This is probably going to hurt more than the actual wound itself did.

“Remove your coat, and pull your shirt up. I will not risk getting fabric caught in the wound.”

Saix does as he’s told, taking his coat off and lifting his shirt to reveal just enough of his back so Xemnas could work. He can feel Xemnas’ eyes boring holes into him, fingers touching the wound. He winces with each touch, knowing it’ll be worse before it gets better.

He hears Xemnas get the disinfectant, and can feel something close to fear run through his veins. “Please be– ah!”

Xemnas immediately gets to work cleaning the wound, very little care given to ensure it’s gentle. Not that Saix was expecting much, but…

Saix shoots Xemnas a look from over his shoulder. He can see how emotionless that expression is while Saix’s own eyes were red, puffy, and wet.

He’s glad when Xemnas deems the wound clean enough. But then, Saix knows what comes next. He starts getting even more worried, even though that’s not an emotion he can feel. He feels his body get close to hyperventilating. It was his memories causing this reaction, he knew.

“Wait. Please. Please, just a second.”

Xemnas looks, something akin to amusement on his features. Barely there at all, but visible. Saix turns, wanting something. Anything, any sort of comfort. He feels almost nervous asking for it from Xemnas of all people.

“I want…” He shakes his head. “I need…” Not the right words, either. His brow furrows, an echo of frustration running through him.

“Speak plainly. The longer you wait, the more we risk further infection,” Xemnas says, and despite the words, he doesn’t sound irritated. 

Saix looks at him, and then looks down. “Hold my hand through it. Please, sir. I… I don’t care if a Dusk has to do the stitching, just…” He takes a shaking deep breath. “Something. Please, it hurts.” Saix isn’t entirely sure what he’s referring to in that instance. The hole where his heart is, or the gaping wound in his back? Both hurt right now. Getting cold indifference was worse than the wound itself.

Xemnas raises his eyebrows a little, a little hollow laugh leaving him. He does, however, humor him. He calls a Dusk in, explains the situation, and then before the Dusk begins properly, he reaches to take Saix’s hand in his own. Saix squeezes it tightly.

“The job is not going to get done properly if a Dusk does it, I hope you know,” Xemnas says, though it’s clear he already knew that Saix was well aware. Saix nods.

“I know. And I don’t care, I…” What does he even say to defend himself? That he craved comfort? With no heart to experience that craving with?

Xemnas, for a mercy, doesn’t pry. “Just as long as you are aware.”

He grips Xemnas’ hand tighter as the stitches get put in him, as his wound is stitched closed. It goes on for several minutes, each one more agonizing than the next. He shuts his eyes tightly, arm shaking with how tightly he’s gripping Xemnas’ hand.

The Dusk finishes, and sloppily puts more disinfectant and gauze on him. Even once the Dusk leaves, Saix lingers. He holds onto Xemnas’ hand like a lifeline, terrified of letting go, terrified of being alone in the cold room.

Xemnas entertains it for two more minutes. Saix counts the seconds, both a distraction and a way to see if Xemnas was doing it, too. One hundred and twenty seconds after the Dusk leaves, Xemnas pulls his hand away.

“This will make you stronger. Each injury you recover from will strengthen you,” Xemnas says, and Saix is somewhat baffled that he’s prepared a speech for this moment. He wonders how many other Organization members have heard it, or if he was the only one stupid enough to get hurt so soon after operations had begun.

Xemnas sits at his desk, and Saix wants to linger. Xemnas doesn’t let him. He gestures one hand to the door.

“If you have no other injuries, I suggest you return to work. I expect a report of the mission on my desk by this evening.”

The yawning chasm within Saix’s chest hurts. He wants to reach for more, wants more than holding Xemnas’ hand. He doesn’t know where it comes from, this desperate need for comfort, but he pushes it down further and further until he can leave.

There’s hurt in his eyes as he stands and bows. He can feel the stitching move with the movement and he winces.

“I will not disappoint you, sir,” Saix says, moving to leave the room. As his hand touches the door, Xemnas speaks again. A smile is in his voice.

“We will have you doing training for a while longer. You will not be assigned any missions until we can safely say you can keep a firm grasp on your weapon.”

Saix pauses for a moment before nodding, cheeks going red. “Yes, sir.”

At the start, every time he went to visit Xemnas, he had come out with more scars. All of them could be quite well hidden underneath his cloak, so he didn’t really mind. Axel had nothing to worry about.

Xemnas had been testing Saix’s loyalty. Saix was all too happy to oblige, if it meant that his plans could be expedited. At first, it started as sparring matches. Getting used to his newfound power. Isa wasn’t much of a fighter.

The first few markings, Saix didn’t think much of it. They didn’t seem particularly targeted, and Xemnas always helped treat them after. He gave pointers for how Saix could channel his power, how he could become stronger.

At first, Saix didn’t want that. He just wanted his heart back. But… he thought, maybe it might be good to get strong. So that when, not if, he got his heart back, he’d be strong enough to guard it.

He keeps track of each little X carved into his skin. He views it as progress, proof that he’s getting stronger, little by little. Some were big, some were small. Some were jagged and sloppy, and others were clean and clinical.

Each one made Saix, to some extent, proud of his progress. He was getting less of them these days. He was growing, he knew it.

During one particular sparring session, things go awry. The marks no longer stay neatly under his jacket. Xemnas scars his face, right between his eyes. Saix stands there, eyes wide for a moment. His gloved hand goes up to touch his face, and he sees blood when he removes it. He looks up at Xemnas, and for a split second, he feels an echo of fear.

He hides it quickly, though. He moves to stand up for battle once more, the perfect little soldier. Xemnas gives a little smile, and it’s empty.

“That’s enough. Come, we need to treat that wound.”

Saix always liked that part. Being stitched right back together by Xemnas. This time, Saix is a little nervous.

“What do I tell people? If I’m asked, I mean.”

Xemnas puts gauze gently right over the wound on Saix’s face, his hands far more gentle than Saix thought he was capable of.

“Tell them the truth. It was a training accident.”

Xemnas brings his hand up to place another set of gauze on the other side. Saix nods, a small movement so as not to mess up Xemnas’ work.

Terra felt powerless, watching Xehanort fight Aqua in his body. He had tried over and over to stop it, to wrest control of his body back. To lessen the blows, to make it not hurt as much at least. He succeeds only a few times, and he feels like screaming.

He speaks to Xehanort, his heart crying out. Within his body, he’s tearing up.

“Stop, Xehanort!” He sounds desperate in a way he had never been before. Xehanort causing problems himself felt easier than him trying to kill one of his best friends using his body. He couldn’t let go of the guilt.

Xehanort gives a little laugh. “No, I think not. Give in, and I might consider it.”

Terra really does scream, this time. If he could, he’d be attacking Xehanort. He’d kill him. It wasn’t enough to kill Eraqus, now he wanted to kill his friends… Terra couldn’t take it anymore.

He summons all the will he can to put a stop to Xehanort’s onslaught. It works, for a time. He feels his body stop. He doesn’t get to be grateful for too long, though.

He looks up at Xehanort, who is eerily silent now. He gives a little laugh before saying it, both their voices ringing in his ears.

“This’ll teach you! Get out of my heart!”

Terra shakes his head, moving forward to try and stop Xehanort. But it’s too late. His heart is excised from his own body in full, surgical in nature. As though it were removing some kind of tumor. As if he had no right to be there.

His heart is overcome by darkness, and he’d scream if his mouth wasn’t sewn shut. A large X now rests over his mouth, as if Xehanort had put it there himself. He can’t open his mouth anymore, can’t scream, can’t do anything. He’s powerless.

He watches on as this Guardian. Tears would be streaming down his face if a Heartless were capable of such a thing. He feels the pain, each hit he takes. Aqua doesn’t know better, Terra doesn’t blame her.

Xehanort was using Terra’s heart as a living shield. And that was that. It felt miserable. It was painful.

It had taken Isa a great deal of time to relax around someone that wasn’t Lea. He felt awkward in most settings, and wasn’t really sure what to say to most people. Roxas and Xion were old coworkers, and that made things only slightly easier even with Lea there as a buffer.

There was something about Terra that made it easy, though. He was still awkward, make no mistake, but there was something… comforting, having someone who understood him on levels he didn’t feel comfortable explaining to anyone else. The Xehanort possession, being robbed of who you are for ten years… they both know that pain. To varying degrees, but they both had their lives ruined in very similar ways by Xehanort.

Isa finds himself spending most of his time with Terra most days. It was comfortable, and… made Isa really aware that this is what kind of friendship he wants with someone. Lea… would always be there, of course, but too much had happened. There’s a degree of unease there. The guilt doesn’t go away as easily, it doesn’t feel like it’s being dealt with in the way he needs it to be.

And therein lies the issue. He couldn’t ask more of those three, it would make the guilt that much worse.

He’s still friendly, but he keeps his distance. For now, he finds what comfort he can with Terra. Tonight is one such night where the past haunts him, and Isa finds himself speaking on it with Terra.

“Do you ever feel that way? That too much has happened, and… that you’re better off alone. Or leaving them alone, specifically,” Isa had been talking about it in brief with Terra, and he keeps his eyes on the moon and stars above him. They’re at Yen Sid’s tower, both sitting, feet dangling on the edge. His eyes don’t move to regard Terra, not quite yet.

Terra gives a tiny noise of consideration. “Yeah, all the time,” Terra starts, and it’s quiet and steady. “I don’t think I could separate myself from them, though. We’re like family– the three of us. Even if I tried, I don’t think they’d let me.” Terra gives a little laugh.

Isa gives a little huff, too. “Yeah, I guess Lea’s the same, in that regard.” The same… and different, too. Axel, back then, left Saix all alone. Left him to fend for himself. Fix everything all by himself. “...You told me before, about a time that Aqua lost trust in you.” Isa finally looks down, down at his hands.

He looks up at Terra, after a moment. “How did you earn that trust back?”

Terra pauses for a moment, considering. “I think… that the trust was never completely lost. She knew the kind of person I was, deep down.” He looks at Isa more pointedly. “Lea’s the same for you, right? He knows the kind of guy you are. I think… maybe you’re the one that needs to get trust in yourself back.”

Isa gives a little huff again. Isa had said something quite similar to Terra before. About… forgiving himself. And how difficult it is. It was easy to say the words, but to actually do the action…

He was such a hypocrite. Isa gives a genuine laugh, a smile crossing his face. “Well, you’ve got me there.”

Terra ends up laughing, too. “I know I do. It’s time to take your own advice.”

Isa leans back on his hands again, looking up at the sky. The moon and stars were always so comforting to look at.

Something shifts when he feels a hand by him. His hair was being touched, and then he felt fingers– too familiar fingers brush against the side of his neck. He visibly flinches, and swats the hand away.

“Stop, please–” It comes out before Isa can stop it. And he feels awful for it. His hair was just getting moved. It shouldn’t have caused a visceral reaction.

Terra pulls his hand away as if he’s been burned, and Isa can’t bring himself to look at the hurt expression on Terra’s face. Isa feels the panic build in his chest, heavy and suffocating, filling his lungs and throat.

Except Terra doesn’t look hurt. He looks worried. Terra doesn’t touch Isa, not yet.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. And it does help. He was reminded of Xemnas with the touch, but… the way those words are said are so unlike him that it grounds Isa, if only a little.

Isa closes his eyes, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. He doesn’t want to see anything, and he focuses on grounding himself. He breathes deeply, a few deep breaths before he speaks again.

“No, I’m sorry,” Isa says, his voice shaking. The combination of looking at the moon and the familiar hand on his neck terrified him. It was always comforting. Unless Xemnas was there, of course.

He had felt the familiar feeling he had back then washed over him for an instant. That bone-deep desire for a heart. The inescapable longing and sadness he felt when he gazed up at Kingdom Hearts. He could hear, faintly, the types of things Xemnas would say back then. He was incomplete, not whole, broken back then.

He takes a deep breath again.

He feels a hand right on his back, between his shoulders. The touch is softer than the kind Xemnas would give.

“Open your eyes,” Terra says gently, and the sound of his voice is calming. “Look at your surroundings. You’re not there anymore, I promise.”

Another gentle hand tries to pull at his forearm. There’s barely any force there, Isa can tell. It’s amazing how someone as strong as Terra could be so gentle. Isa wished he was the same.

He opens his eyes, vision blurry. The colors of the sky of the tower were so much different than The World That Never Was. It wasn’t empty. The sky wasn’t that vast black with a smattering of stars strewn throughout.

It was whole. It was colorful, it was alive.

He takes a deep breath again, this time for different reasons. He can smell the trees that are close by. He can smell life– whole and complete.

Isa exists right now.

He looks over to Terra, and just stares for a moment. He’s not Xemnas, not even close. He takes another deep breath, and then nods.

“Yeah, I’m not there anymore,” Isa says a bit lamely. “I’m–” he cuts himself off to rephrase. No more apologies, not for this. That wasn’t forgiving himself. “Thank you, Terra.”

The first time Saix reopens the wound himself, it’s because he had a bad day. As Isa, he never really was one for harming himself. He never had any reason to do so. This time, though, he stares at himself in the mirror. He sees how clean and clinical the lines are, and wants them to look the way he feels inside. He wants to make them ugly, bigger.

He does it slowly, watches himself in the mirror as he does it. He misses the scar at points, but maybe that’s for the best. He watches as the blood falls down his face. It’s not much, not as much as it could be, at least. But he watches with a still face. He sees himself, and… he looks numb. His eyes are dull, every muscle in his face is lax even in the face of pain.

He finishes the second half, and he sets the small blade down, and simply looks in the mirror. He realizes then that he wants to make a habit of this. He grabs cleaning supplies. Rubbing alcohol, ointment, gauze and medical tape. This, too, was a good part of the process. The sting would continue. The rote movement of it felt… pleasing. Surgical, clinical, planned.

He watches as he cleans his own wound without a single hint of pain showing on his face. There was something about seeing himself like this that was… strange, but comforting. As though he’d become something his younger self would have been proud of. Someone who could bear pain in any form, and show no reaction whatsoever.

He doesn’t remember if he actually wanted to become someone like that, but the memory didn’t really matter. He could warp the thought process of his past self however he wanted to appease himself.

The cracks start to show early. The constant irritability makes it worse, and in turn makes him more irritable. He sees the way he takes it out on others, sees the fear that shows in his coworkers’ eyes every time he walks in the room.

He feels a phantom pain in his heart.

It shows in his violent outbursts, with his Berserk growing ever more difficult to control. With him tightening the leash, becoming a harsher task master than Xemnas ever was.

He pushes himself too far during his final few hours. He’s fought at every turn, and loses everything. As he meets his end, he feels his body failing. It’s all he has, and it becomes nothing right before his eyes.

It’s slow, and he can’t help but collapse the moment it becomes too much for it to bear. His knees give way, and he’s reminded vividly of the fight with Roxas.

Different name, same fate… indeed.

He feels the pain from back then, too. It’s all doubled, each hit his body has taken accumulates and hits him all at once. He supposes this is his body’s way of accommodating for the lack of a heart. By turning that emotional pain into something physical.

He wheezes on the floor, able to hear the party who had dealt these fatal blows behind him as if nothing was wrong. As if someone wasn’t just murdered. As if Saix wasn’t still in his death throes.

He gives a humorless little laugh, watching as his body fades. He sees it unravel and become something unrecognizable. A sight he’s seen many times over with the Dusks. Now… he supposes he gets his just desserts. He fades into obscurity. No more than a footnote on the pages of history.

The plan was to infiltrate Xemnas’ inner circle, get as close as he could to Xemnas so that he could take over. He knew what he had to do, knew he had to play the role of the perfect pawn. Subservient, malleable.

It takes a great deal of hard work before he’s able to do it. Once he does, though… he starts wishing he had never tried this. He’s become a key member of the Organization, tasked with ensuring the logistics of everything. This, Saix doesn’t really mind.

Soon enough, though, he notices changes. He can see it in Axel’s reactions. The person he used to be was slowly being erased. He could see it even in the reactions he gets to simple things he says. He’s more irritable, more inclined to feel certain things, even when he knows he can’t.

The first time he notices a reaction is when Axel really, really stares at him. As if he’d grown a second head. He looks at Axel, and makes a gesture of confusion.

“What?”

Axel’s eyebrows furrow. “You really don’t know?”

Saix shakes his head, still baffled. “I wouldn’t have asked if I did. What?”

Axel gives a little sigh. “Why don’t you look in a mirror sometime?”

Little else is said before Axel just leaves. Saix wasn’t in the habit of looking in the mirror, not really. Not unless he has to. He’s not self conscious about his appearance, he just finds that he can do most things to get ready without doing that.

He does, however, heed Axel’s advice and looks when he next showers. And he immediately wishes he hadn’t.

He doesn’t know when it would have happened. Xemnas had placed importance on him, that much was true, but he didn’t… understand where this change came from.

His green eyes had faded into something resembling Xemnas’, and took on a yellow hue. Xigbar’s eyes were similar, and yet… Saix never understood why. What made those two have the same eyes? What made Saix have them now?

He asks Xemnas, next time he’s expected to make a report. Saix tries to remain ambivalent, but Xemnas always did have a way of seeing right through him. Xemnas smiles a little, something Saix isn’t knowledgeable enough to read quite yet.

“You have been chosen. You are an important member of this Organization, you understand.”