Monument of a Nobody in Twilight

[Pollen]

monument, chapter one
a fanfiction by ~isho, fanfiction.net

Disclaimer: Characters in this fanfiction are copyrighted to their respective owners.
Warnings: Profanity, and it's Axel and Roxas but not Axel x Roxas. Depends on the way you look at it, really.
Edit: My words of beautiful profanity have been replaced by stars. ;0;

~

It feels like the veins that connect to his retina are set ablaze.

It hurts him like how fire sometimes (occasionally, rarely) does – sears him and he drips with lament because it’s his element, his job, he’s strong enough and he should have the Hang Of This Now. And when his eyes hurt like this he knows he should be crying but it’s just too much effort for a nobody to make, so when he sobs they are dry; he does this until he tires out. Axel brings forth a sleeve and wipes his eyes even when he doesn’t need to: they’re dry, just like every other ****ing part of his life, now that Roxas doesn’t recognise him.

Doesn’t recognise him.

Has forgotten him.

So he’s dry and brittle and it hurt but that’s okay because nobodies aren’t meant to thirst, aren’t meant to exist, aren’t meant to be. Sometimes Axel puts a little bit of thought into it: maybe he really should just disappear back to wherever the **** he had come from. But once you’ve had a taste you hunger for it all, and he’s just too in love to let everything fade back to the right, civilian kind of nothingness that doesn’t talk or breathe or hurt or love. The kind of nothingness that makes sense to the people who are somebodies and not nobodies, and who have a right to do all this while they don’t.

They just weren’t made for it, and it was a mistake to even start.

Axel has to reason, despite everything, that if he’s rebellious enough to exist then he should be strong enough to stay, but maybe he just pities himself and is trying to spark a little bit of hope, like when you think it’s sunlight but it’s really just another ****ing bomb dropping on somebody you know. And he would have said, I’m persisting existence because I want a heart as well, I’m pursuing this goal, but he’s not nearly as greedy now. He’s fading and peeling like paint left out in the sun, the place where his soul would have been, corroding, because he doesn’t have one.

He doesn’t have one and he doesn’t care anymore, he just wants to see—

I just want to see Roxas.

He wants it to be like before: but that’s a lie because there was never a before. They never started, can never end, there is no future for the likes of them just as much as there is no past. It’s all some bittersweet and tragic mother****ing paradox like blood-splattered diamonds defying gravity, and it disgusts him because Axel doesn’t care if what they have is beautiful or ugly or worth its weight; he just wishes it was there in the first place.

Roxas, quiet and poetic resignation upon himself, had always understood that he was not meant to exist. Even as he had run with everyone else along the railings to the centre of it all, the sustenance that would properly feed the useless organ beating in their chests, he knew. Denial for him, a candle ready to be blown out. But Axel had never understood because he doesn’t want to acknowledge that he isn’t really there; none of them do. And ultimately, that’s what the Organisation is – they’re seeking hearts and happiness and consolation, and Axel was too blind and stupid to see it before but now he knows that when you go looking for happiness, the sadness catches up to you, and you drown.

Drowning and dying and laughing because it’s funny: he’s bled out everything but he’s still going, and in this case dying feels like a sore and tender process that refuses to end.

Axel sits down on the stairs and smiles because it’s easier than crying, harder than anger. ‘Jesus ****ing Christ,’ he says. He grins like a madman because perhaps he is. ‘****. I can’t believe they say I don’t exist when it hurts this much.’ Pause. Breathe. ‘****.’

When he listens to himself the words echo in his head spiteful, hateful, but it doesn’t have pigment or passion, shape or essence – it’s like he’s trying to scare himself into believing what he says, and if he’s there to an extend he’ll perhaps be gullible enough to swallow it whole. It’s all too complicated and hopeless and he’s a nobody and both sides want to kill him and Roxas doesn’t remember him and,

Why does it have to be like this?

But Axel doesn’t like it when he thinks like that because it isn’t him, so he rubs it off his face and stands up. He’s there brooding and Roxas is probably gone now with Sora, and he’s no longer an individual because he needs to be part of something greater – the old cliché, a sacrifice for the Greater Good.

‘Roxas is a sacrifice for the greater good.’

And Axel says it but he doesn’t believe it.

~

Also viewable HERE, and reviews or anything of the sort would also be preferred there as well. Now flame me to hell about how Axel was out of character, or something. And I swear to the Lord it's not just Axel being emo for the next two chapters ;D.