Chapter 12, Part 3
Part 2: Feelings
Xaldin met Vexen’s first spear by lightly pushing it aside with one of his own, but Vexen’s strength overcame his own as he pushed the spear back towards Xaldin. The two spears were staying in place, and so the other two engaged each other. Vexen whipped the spear out from over his shoulder so quickly that all Xaldin could do was sloppily parry the speedy blow.
Xaldin couldn’t believe this. This was just his luck. He had planned on getting Zexion and taking him to Xemnas easily, but it had all gone up in smoke.
He and Vexen were evenly matched; they were both leaning inwards with all. They were so close together that Vexen could see every drop of sweat rolling down Xaldin’s face. Xaldin could see Vexen’s eyes perfectly. They were radiating malicious glee as Vexen’s pearly whites were revealed when his mouth formed into a large grin.
Xaldin didn’t, no, couldn’t understand this, whenever he and Vexen had trained together, which wasn’t very often, Vexen had used an enormous shield. He wasn’t accustomed to spears, and he was surely not this athletic or strong.
Vexen let out a bark of laughter and stared at Xaldin with hatred burning in his eyes, “You thought I was nothing but a weak bodied academic, didn’t you? You have no idea what I am really capable of, do you?” He paused and laughed a bit more, “How long have I been planning this? It pains me to think that I had throw away all those matches. I couldn’t even tell Zexion or Lexaeus. Nobody could know if this was to succeed, and it has.”
Xaldin was shocked. He had always thought that him and Vexen were on good terms with one another, but this told him otherwise. He squinted as he fought to keep the spears locked, and Vexen smiled as he pushed harder down on the once thought to be stronger man. He spoke, taking deep breaths from the effort, “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Vexen laugh was maniacal. He was out of his mind, “Why, you ask. You are so naive. You and Xigbar are both moronic buffoons. Why did that fool Xemnas place you in front of Zexion and myself, the true leaders of this group? What does he see in you?”
Xaldin was pushing as hard as he could, and yet he was still bending backwards.
Both of them failed to notice what was taking place out side of their shoving contest.
Zexion’s eyes were distant. He felt depressed for an odd reason… like something was coming that he hadn’t expected. He was still grabbing Aerith’s arm tightly, waiting for the right moment to let go.
Zexion spoke to himself, looking down at his boots, “Something is wrong…”
Aerith looked at the young man beside her, still confused about what was unfolding before. She saw sadness in his deep blue eyes, and his hair was now hanging in front of his face. She looked in front of her, at the still unconscious man she had met once before. She smiled. She still felt pity towards him, but her confusion ignored it. She tried to remember what the man who looked liked a woman had called him.
She spoke softly to the man beside her, “ Are you Lexaeus?”
Zexion’s head perked up, and she saw tears at the rim of his visible eye. “No, I’m Zexion, that’s Lexaeus.” He pointed to the inanimate body sprawled out some ten yards in front of them.
Aerith looked at the body and sighed, “Oh… I met him once, Lexaeus that is. He was nice for a fake.”
Zexion turned on her. Was he having mood swings or something? “Don’t ever say that. He is real, as am I. If we aren’t real then we wouldn’t be in this room right now. Don’t talk about what you don’t know.”
Aerith looked away, and wondered what was going on inside the man who had seemed so calm only a moment ago. She turned to find him turning away from her, apparently crying silently and trying to hide it, “I do know. I’m fake to. I may have feelings, but I am not a real person. I’m just a copy, a replica of a person. I feel like I have two personalities. So does that mean you’re a nobody like him.”
Zexion didn’t turn, but spoke to her with a level voice despite the tears she could see falling to the ground, “Yes, as are they.” He raised an arm and pointed to the engaged pair.
Aerith pitied the young teen just as much as she did Lexaeus. Zexion’s head turned a bit, showing the edge of one watery eye, and spoke to her, clearly very depressed, “I know I took you hostage, but will you do me a last favor?”
Aerith blinked, “Pardon? Last favor?”
Zexion turned completely now and brushed aside his hair, revealing his second eye, now practically sobbing. “Let me feel”
Aerith was completely unprepared for what happened next.
Zexion’s hand jumped up from her arm and raced to the back of her head, along with his other one. He pulled her head until it collided with his own at the lips. Aerith’s eyes were wide. She was so shocked by the completely unexpected kiss that she forgot to try to break free. She could see every tear running down his face, and the unstable man scared her stiff.
Zexion on the other hand had his eyes closed and was kissing her passionately. He felt excited, invigorated, and yet ready to burst into tears.
He let his hands fall through her hands, until they reached his side and he pulled away.
Through the mess of tears and hair on his face, he smiled very sadly.
Aerith was backing away from him slowly, with her eyes jumping around the room for help. She looked to her left and received a second surprise.
There was an average sized figure with one of the long black cloaks with the hood up, but in his hands were two odd… weapons?
They had long, curved triangles pointing outwards at the top of each one, and a line of thin diamond shaped plates curving inwards underneath the triangle. A light purple circle that connected to the line of shards with a thin bar at the back of it, where the mystery was grabbing them by, topped them.
He was holding one limply at his side, and the other was in his right hand, the triangular… pointer lining up straight with Zexion’s temple.
Aerith screamed, and Zexion smiled almost peacefully, as if he knew what was coming…
Ping.
Time seamed to stop in that one instance as the tiny sound echoed through the room.
The blood had drained from Vexen’s face when he heard the tiny ring, and he whispered a name so low that even Xaldin, who was only inches away from his face, could barely hear it, “Xigbar.”
Xaldin had looked up form Vexen to see a figure robed in black holding up an odd sort of weapon, and saw a flash of light head straight for Zexion.
“No…” Xaldin whispered. He wasn’t here to kill them…
Aerith screamed and tears flooded into her eyes as Zexion smiled, almost as if he was already gone.
Thud.
Zexion’s head whipped to his side, and there was a large, bloody hole cutting straight through his head. Blood was pouring out from each end, and if Aerith was looking at a different angle, she could have seen straight through the complicated mind.
Zexion was happy. He was genuinely happy. He was dying. He was finally going to be rid of this hell of an existence. And he had felt for the first time. Who care if what he felt was fake? It had brought back the sweet memories of when he was… himself.
He felt his mind slowing down, starting to stop functions. He laughed manically as he fell to his right… or was it his left? He didn’t care anymore. All he wanted to do was smile at the beautiful women screaming her head off, the one who had let him die happily.
Aerith was freaking out. Her head was swirling. The man had been shot right before her eyes! And now she was seeing things, for she could have sworn there was a fiery blue hint of happiness in his eyes as he fell.
As the last moments of his life went slipping away, he turned his head to look at Vexen, the thirty-year-old man was staring horror stricken at the dying teen, for he knew he had brought about this death when he started his plan.
“Zexion!” screamed Vexen, finally giving up on the spear fight and letting them clatter on the floor. Xaldin did not swipe at him. He let him run to his dying friend, looking up at the cloaked figure, who now had the gun-like weapons held at his side.
All he could do was shake his head at the figure and breath.
Inhale, exhale, shake, inhale, exhale, shake. He didn’t even like Zexion, but he was still one of the few people who were like him. And now he was gone.
Aerith had finally stopped screaming to take a breath of air. She fell down onto the floor in shock. Now, as she looked upon his motionless corpse, she realized just how passionately the man had kissed her. So lightly and yet richly, how could she have not noticed it before? She truly felt sorry for the man… her pity had blossomed into attraction, in those few seconds.
What was wrong with her?
Vexen rushed to his fallen companion and gaped at the hole in his head. He couldn’t believe this. He hadn’t expected anything this drastic to occur…
He looked up at the stationary figure whose weapons had now faded in a puff of darkness. He shook his head and finally found his voice, “Xigbar you traitor!” screamed the raging fake.
The swirling portal behind the hooded figure was still active.
The figure turned to walk through it, but turned his head so that the bottom of his mouth could be seen. He spoke, pronouncing each word very clearly in a rusty voice, “Hmph. It is funny. You call me the foolish one, and yet you are the ones who are fooled.”
With that last notion, he turned walked through the rip hole, which caved in on itself once he passed through.
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“I can feel. Is feeling living?”
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... I hope you understand that last hint... it is pretty sad to me...
I am a bit saddened by this... I didn't want to write this...
And yet this chapter has meaning to it... in an odd way, this- *SPOILERS* (can't tell you why)
But I hope you get the REAL meaning of the last hint.
*re-reads* hmm... could have made this a bit more dramatic... maybe I'll edit this...
