Chapter Text
The Mysterious Tower was a quiet place.
It floated gently through the vast expanse of space between worlds. One tiny island, a few plants that grew against all odds, the tower itself, and the millions of stars above were all that could be found for hours in any direction.
There was no wind to rustle the leaves. No animals to fill the air with chirps and songs. The lone resident of the world rarely left his tower, and even if he did, he was not the type to make a big commotion. Even the newest additions to the scenery — two Gummiships parked at the end of the short path leading from the tower’s doorstep — were dark and silent, their engines cool after days of rest.
It was almost unnerving; like the entire world, as small as it was, was kept in a kind of stasis.
—A stasis that was shattered in an instant by a shrill shriek as a certain tiny redheaded menace shoved an ice cream bar — still in the wrapper, thank the gods — down the back of Lea’s coat.
Lea had been quite happily dozing off on the highest balcony he could find. After yet another long, hard day of getting his ass handed to him by teenagers, he thought he deserved a good nap or three. His left arm was still killing him even after the five Cures he threw at it, his insides hurt, and he was pretty sure a nasty bruise was forming where Riku got him on the shoulder blade. He was, quite frankly, 100% done with everything for the rest of the day, thank you very much.
Which the aforementioned menace knew.
Just like she knew where to find him.
And where exactly on his back to shove the absolutely freezing ice cream bar.
A small part of him was touched that she had even noticed. The rest of him, however, had just jumped about three feet out of his skin and was frantically trying to shake the bar out of his coat without squishing it.
Kairi was still giggling when he finally succeeded. She grinned innocently at him when she noticed him looking, and held out what was either a bag of frozen peas or Yen Sid’s extra potion ingredients as a peace offering.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a brat,” Lea stated more than asked. He swiped the bag of frozen whatevers with one hand and gave her hair a good ruffle with the other as revenge, knocking it out of its ponytail even more. Her giggles cut off with a squawk. “‘Heart of pure light’, my ass. I demand a refund immediately!”
“I don’t know, I think helping a friend with an injury counts as ‘light’ to me,” Kairi laughed, her eyes glinting mischievously before going a little cross-eyed as he stuck a finger in her face.
“Brat.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
He felt way too fond for someone getting sassed by a teenager half his size. Damn his soft heart.
The frozen bag was carefully wedged between his bruised shoulder and the wall as he sat back down. He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief it caused — Riku wasn’t really good at the whole ‘holding back’ thing yet, and he hit hard. Kairi, who had been in the middle of getting comfortable on the balcony herself, shifted from playful to concerned like a switch had been flipped.
“Is it still that bad?”
He waved her off, more concerned with tearing into the ice cream from before. Strawberry, not sea salt. He couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or relieved. “Just sore, is all. It’ll be right as rain by practice tomorrow, don’t worry.”
She’d heard some variation of that about fifty times at this point. She never believed him.
The crinkle of her own ice cream wrapper was unbearingly loud in the ensuing silence. The crack of joints as he moved his aching arm into a better position were even louder, ringing through the air like gunshots and making him wince.
“...you could get Riku to heal you agai-”
“It won’t help.”
“Axel.”
“I’ve tried at least five times already, alright? Nothing’s worked.”
Lea pretended to be too absorbed in eating to meet her eyes. A few more silent moments passed before he dared to look over again…and was instantly reminded of the fact that Kairi was best friends with the Kings of Avoiding Their Problems themselves as she met his gaze levelly, unimpressed.
She wasn’t gonna let this go anymore, was she. Godsdammit.
“I’m fine, kid,” he said, y’know, like a liar. “It’s probably just a side effect of the whole ‘dying and coming back to life’ thing. Went through some similar stuff last time. It’ll go away on its own eventually, so don’t worry about it.”
Something distant flickered behind her eyes, there and gone in an instant. It didn’t change the unimpressed look – if anything, it grew deeper.
Years of being on the opposite end of that look turned on his mouth’s autopilot. “Actually, speaking of last time, I’d take this in a heartbeat over setting everything on fire for like a week straight. I didn’t even know half the shit in the Castle could burn until then. Only time I ever thanked whatever made that place out of pure marble and metal – if I had accidentally caught the Grey Area on fire, I think Xemnas would have turned me into a Dusk. Though, just between you and me? I may or may not have “accidentally” set Vexen’s cloak on fire during that whole fiasco. While he was wearing it, of course. Man, you should have seen his face, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get that red, and I got pestering him down to an art. Wait, you never met Vexen did–”
“What if you get hurt? Seriously hurt?”
The words died in his throat.
Kairi stared at him dead on, eyes hard and jaw clenched to the point of hurting.
“It’s only been cuts and bruises so far, but it can’t be forever,” she continued. “Even- even if we’re extra careful in training. You, Sora, Riku; you’re all trying your best to hold back, and I think I’m getting the hang of it too. But we still slip up sometimes.”
His eyes flicked down to her right hand. Tanned and healthy, with calluses on the palms and chipped blue nail polish (from last week’s late night cocoa session) adorning her fingernails. No scars, no massive burns from a fireball knocked just the slightest bit off-course by the weight of a weapon he wasn’t used to.
Lea must’ve cast Cura at least twenty times in-between frantic apologies. Kairi had probably told him at least twenty times that 'it was okay, it was just an accident, she was fine', all while valiantly failing to fight off tears. There had been a lot of tears that day honestly.
Sora and Riku had come back from grabbing lunch to the sight of their puffy eyes and way more physical affection than he was used to, but that was all that was left of the incident. The skin of her hand wasn’t even red; the Curas had done their job.
Which was her point, of course. Didn’t mean he had to acknowledge it. She wasn’t the only one who could play the stubborn card.
“What if we’re sparing tomorrow, and you try to block with your arm again, and I don’t–” The words cut off abruptly, like she was worried they would come true if she spoke them into existence.
“If we’re being honest, after everything that’s happened? I’d probably deserve it,” his mouth said before his brain could catch it.
For a brief moment, her face twisted. A dozen emotions he couldn’t name anymore raced across her face, before everything slackened and she just looked– sad.
“I don’t care if you deserve it. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to be the cause of it, and not be able to fix it,” she said quietly. She broke eye contact finally — turned bodily away, even, to look out over the edge of the island at the stars beyond. The curtain of wine red hair that had escaped her ponytail acted as a natural barrier between them. “You’re my friend, you know that, right?”
Lea swallowed past to lump in his throat to croak, “Yeah, ‘course. You’re– you’re my friend too, kid.”
Her right hand — the one not holding her own steadily melting ice cream — clenched the fabric of her leggings hard enough to turn the knuckles white. The grip only loosened when she next spoke. “Then you know you can talk to me. To any of us. If…if there’s some reason that you don’t want to look into whatever this is. You can always talk to us.”
He felt bad about it, but he kinda wanted to laugh.
The idea of spilling his guts to anyone (—that wasn’t Isa, of cour– hey, brain? Shut. ), let alone someone he’d only known for a few months, was just. Hilarious. Ridiculously anxiety-inducing, yeah, but hilarious.
And, hell, her heart was in a good place. His own heart felt warm and terribly soft underneath the layer of anxiety this conversation had brought on, and he had to stop himself from affectionately messing with her hair again. She was a good kid.
Unfortunately, as much as he didn’t feel like it sometimes, he was the adult here. And he would deal with his problems like any other responsible adult would: by shoving them all into boxes and hiding them as far back in his brain as possible.
…Still.
A part of him — the selfish part, the part that had only ever given him trouble — wanted desperately to just spit out– everything.
It wanted to look Kairi in the eye and tell her exactly why he hadn’t contacted what was left of the Apprentices. They were some of the only people who could possibly understand his situation, after all, and the list of doctor-adjacent people he knew consisted of them and them only; if anyone could figure out what the hell was wrong with his body, they were his best bet. Unfortunately, that selfish part of him wanted to say, they also almost entirely comprised the very short list of people he could quite happily go the rest of his life never seeing again.
And, of course, Kairi would ask why, because she was a good person who cared about him even when he didn’t deserve it.
And that incredibly selfish part of him would drag one specific box of problems from the furthest, darkest corner of his mind, and it would start taking them out and showing them off like they were his grandma’s antiques.
How he still knew the halls of Radiant Garden’s castle like the back of hand; how the thought of walking down them again made him want to puke. He had, in fact, puked his newly-recompleted guts out in the garden while searching for Isa.
How in the west wing’s third story, you would find his old room, covered in cobwebs and about three inches of dust, everything exactly where he’d left it before– Before. Isa’s room next door had been the same. How he had kept it together at the sight until he’d spotted their set of sun & moon earrings and Stella’s set of star ones sitting innocently on Isa’s dresser. How those two pairs had burnt a hole in his pocket ever since, because the thought of putting them on without matching made his heart want to explode out of his chest.
How they’d all eaten together, every night Isa and him had lived there, in the west wing, fourth story dining room. There were about three different dining rooms in the castle, but that one in particular had a low enough table for Ienzo — ten years old and tiny — to comfortably eat at. There’d been a huge bay window overlooking the gardens that had a great view of the sunset every night; many-a-dinner of his had gone cold when he’d been drawn to the sight, and many more had only been saved by a timely elbow to the ribs (thanks Isa).
How the castle lacked any servants, so Aeleus usually left his post around 4pm to cook them all food, and how Lea, used to cooking being a whole family affair, had helped him sometimes. Over the weeks, he had grown to appreciate the way the normally silent brickwall of a man would soften as he taught Lea a new recipe from his well-worn cookbook. How sometimes the others — usually Even — popped in for a snack if they were going to miss dinner, and on days the two of them knew Even was busy they made sure to prepare some coffee ahead of time too. How, when Even finally wandered in, dead on his feet, he always looked so grateful Lea couldn’t help but laugh.
How Ansem the Wise had been a good, kind man that doted on Ienzo constantly, and whose love of sea salt ice cream was almost greater than Lea’s. How Lea’d been terrified when they’d applied for an apprenticeship, worried that only Isa would get accepted and he’d be left in the dust. Isa was the smart one between them, after all; Lea was pretty sure he’d never gotten lower than an A- on anything since he was five. Lea, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on school to save his life. And yet Ansem had simply asked a few questions and given them a critical once-over before he had accepted the both of them on the spot.
How Lea still, after all these years, had no idea what had happened to the man in the time between their capture and Radiant Garden’s Fall. Xemnas had simply said he was “gone”, but frankly both Axel and Lea didn’t trust a word out of their lovely ex-bosses’ mouth.
How Braig had always been a creepy asshole, but it had been more in a weird uncle type of way once. How Dilan sometimes fell asleep standing up. How Ienzo barely ever spoke, but Even had been teaching him sign language and got the rest of the apprentices to join in. Gods, even how Xehanort would brighten if you asked him about whatever book he was reading that week.
How Isa and he had learnt all this, lived all this, while carrying the knowledge of what was in the basement.
Here, the selfish part of him would pull a second, smaller, more worn box out of the bigger box of problems. It would shake it around just to hear it rattle, before carefully taking out each memory like it was fine china.
You see, people simply 'going missing' was common in Radiant Garden. It was something the adults spoke of in whispers and harried glances, carefully avoiding looking in the direction of the castle. He’d heard the same thing over and over as a kid: stay out of alleyways, stay away from the castle, don’t leave your neighbourhood alone, and always, always get home before dark.
His curfew had been at least an hour before sunset, and he had whined and whined and whined about it to his dad until the man caved and came up with their sunset-watching ritual. Isa joined them whenever he slept over, and that happened often enough that his dad usually had three ice cream bars ready to go before they had even walked through the door.
(Isa hadn’t had a curfew. Isa hadn’t had much at all from his parents, really.)
It was during one of those sunsets, three years after his dad had died, that Isa told him why he slept over at Lea’s house so much.
"Screams?"
Isa nodded, as grave as a thirteen year old could be. “From the waterways next to my house. They run under the wall into the castle.”
Lea’s empty ice cream stick spun around his fingers as he frowned in thought. “Why would there be screams comin’ from the castle?”
His dear best friend snorted at him. "Gee, I don’t know Lea, maybe they have horror movie marathons in the sewers.”
"Okay, smartass.”
“Well if I knew the reason, I would have told you already, dumbass."
The conversation had devolved into playful insults and roughhousing from there, as it tended to do with young teenage boys.
It was only later, as the two got ready for bed, that Lea had a thought. (Yes, ha ha Isa, very funny.)
In retrospect, it was probably that singular thought that had changed the course of their entire lives.
It was also incredibly stupid, and dangerous, and exactly something a bored, rambunctious teenager would come up with.
Lea had turned to his best friend — who had his pajama shirt pulled halfway over his head, at the time — and he had said,
“What if we find out the reason?”
And so, three days later, the two of them — thirteen and stupid, armed with only a rudimentary understanding of fire magic and one of Lea’s grandma’s steak knives — had ventured into the waterways besides Isa’s house.
They hadn’t known what they thought they would find. Ghosts? Monsters? A serial killer? A creepy torture basement?
In the end, they were right on two counts.
What they hadn’t expected was the girl.
“Hello?”
The greeting had come from one of the many cells in the expansive basement. It had been more of a breath than a whisper; more inquisitive than the accusation they feared. That still didn’t stop the two of them — already spooked out of their minds over the rows and rows and rows of cells, let alone the– things that were inside of them — from freaking the fuck out. To put it mildly.
Honestly, it was a miracle she had wanted to be their friend after that. Lea didn’t know if he would be as forgiving if his first encounter with someone had them brandishing a steak knife in his face.
She hadn’t had a name, their new friend. Or memories. The scientists called her Subject X, she told them on their second visit, and she had sounded so– dejected, that Lea and Isa had looked each other in the eye that day and silently agreed that they would never, ever call her that.
It was two months into their almost daily visits when she showed them the earrings.
When she’d arrived there, she explained, everything she’d been wearing had been taken and exchanged for the surgical gown she wore now. The only thing she had left was a pair of small star earrings she’d hidden behind her hair, and she took them out carefully as she spoke, laying them gently on her palms so Lea and Isa could see them through the bars.
They were cheaply made, and bright pink, and one of the points had broken off at some point.
She held them like they were the most precious things in the world.
Isa had been quiet on the way home, eyes simultaneously a million miles away and all the way back in that cell. Lea, recognizing that look after being his best friend for almost a decade, just took him by the shoulders and pointed him in the direction of the nearest bookshelf.
The next day, Isa offered their friend a name.
“Stella?”
Isa studiously avoided her eyes. “It means 'star'. I found it in one of the books Merlin gave me, the one from his travels off-world. I thought it…it suited you.”
Oh, he was definitely blushing. Lea was never gonna let him live this down.
Their friend looked surprised for a few moments. One of her hands reached towards her ear almost unconsciously.
Her– Stella’s tearful smile brightened the entire basement for the next week.
They crept through the waterways and into that basement to visit her for months. Sometimes Isa would bring a book to read out loud — anything from what they were reading in class to a dog-eared copy of one of those sappy romance novels he pretended to hate. Sometimes Lea would simply talk their ears off, saying whatever came to mind and snarking back and forth with Isa until Stella laughed so hard she cried.
Sometimes, on days when her memories sat right below the surface, she would quietly recount things that sounded straight out of the book of fairytales Isa had brought once.
And sometimes they just sat there outside her cell door for a few hours, offering her silent support when the words just weren’t enough.
They were friends. Best friends. If Lea hadn’t been fourteen and stupid, he probably would have even said he loved them.
...The day before Stella disappeared, she had been strangely solemn.
They had thought it was a bad day at first, and had started getting comfortable to sit in silence for a while. But she had beckoned them over to the barred cell door window.
She had looked at them silently for a full minute. Her eyes, suddenly far, far older than they should be, scanned their faces intently. (Like she was committing them to memory.)
Only when they began to get concerned did she open her mouth to speak. And what she said was,
“If you had the choice to change your fate, would you?”
The day before their best friend disappeared, she sent them home with three things:
- A pair of bright pink star earrings, pressed into their hands reverently;
- A declaration of love, said from the bottom of her heart towards the both of them;
- A promise.
The day before the girl they loved disappeared forever, they had gone home and frantically put together a plan to break her out the next day. The reasons they hadn’t done so before — 'how could they possibly get past the security on the door' and 'what if they got caught' and the biggest one, 'what happens after' — suddenly didn’t seem all that important anymore. There was no time.
And they were right.
By the time they got to the waterway entrance the next day, they found the tunnel covered by a metal shutter that let only the tiniest trickle of water out. It was new and shiny and very immune to small fireballs.
Isa, in a fit of fear and luminescent eyes, had ripped it to pieces in a matter of minutes.
It didn't matter, though. Her cell was empty, barren. The only sign someone had lived there at all, let alone for over half a year, was a crumpled up blanket and lumpy pillow sitting in the corner.
They were fourteen. Fourteen, and stupid, and heartbroken.
They never saw Stella again.
……There was one final box in this specific box of problems.
A jewelry box, jet black and shiny, with a large rusty padlock on the front. It sat at the very bottom, tucked away so that you could only ever see it after pulling out everything else.
That terribly selfish part of Lea, the part that he despised with all of his heart…hesitated.
It’s– his hand — his left hand — hovered over the lid.
He couldn’t open it without the right key. He didn’t want to open it. For as much as he made a big deal about memories, about being remembered, some things deserved to be forgotten.
…But maybe, just maybe, after all these years, he could just—
—In his mind’s eye, he saw his fingers brush the lid of that dreaded box—
“—what did you see, L—”
“— AIRI! WHERE ARE YOU?!”
“— listening, okay! Just don’t hurt him— ”
“ Lea. What did you see?”
“ —signs are normal, moving on to the next test—”
“ What did you see! ”
“ ISA!!! ”
But he couldn’t tell her any of that.
Kairi was just a kid. They all were. Strong kids, good kids, yeah, but still. They’d seen enough horror for the rest of their lives already. He couldn’t– wouldn’t dump any of that on them.
Kairi wasn’t going to let him leave this conversation without something, though. He knew that set to her jaw, that look in her eyes. She wasn’t gonna budge on this until he caved one way or another.
His stomach turned violently. The artificial strawberry taste coated the inside of his mouth, leaving him with a perpetual sickly sweet aftertaste that was, frankly, disgusting. Sea salt beat it by a landslide. Still, he knew damn well that wasn’t why he felt sick.
The sigh he let out was bone deep and aching. Voice kept carefully flat, he said, “If I contact Ienzo tomorrow and he agrees to help, would one of you be free to head to Radiant Garden with me?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kairi’s head snap up. He resolutely kept staring at the closest tree like it held all the answers to Kingdom Hearts in its branches.
“...I think Yen Sid is sending Sora out on a mission in the morning, but Riku and I should be free. It’s a training day.”
And wow, the bitterness there was something they were definitely talking about later. But for now, Axel just nodded and tried to salvage what was left of his ice cream.