he will fight – [open]

[rokusasu]

i. pugnābit
verb, future tense – he will fight.

Let’s talk about rude awakenings.

Let’s talk about the man-eating leopard that grinned in Roxas’ face as he awoke here, relishing the teen’s disoriented state. Let’s talk about how the leopard attacked before Number XIII even realized that he was awake, alive, that he had a body now, and that he had to fight to keep it if he wanted to stay alive for long. Somehow, he managed to drive the leopard back, but not without sustaining massive injuries. Many of them were wounds that time would eventually fix, but the biggest injury of them all was a long, deep gash in his right arm – his prominent arm – that would force him to lay low for a while. Fantastic.

That had been two weeks ago – when he first awoke here, that is. Two weeks he had spent in this goddamn jungle, mulling over the mystery of his rebirth in his head, with nothing but the squawks of cranky parrots and the growling of hungry animals to play as the soundtrack to his musings. He had been here before, he knew – not in this jungle, persay, but in a situation where he was isolated from society, where he had so many questions, but no answers, and no one close by to answer them. How was he here? Who had brought him back? And if so, was it to become someone’s puppet again? Was it so he could “live” and “die” and watch his close friends fall into darkness once more?

Despite the wounds he was still carrying from the leopard’s attack, the teen knew he could not stay idle. He left the relative safety of this flimsy treehouse in the middle of the jungle, and trekked out into the treetops, hoping to find someone – anyone – with some answers. Every day he’d leave markings in the tree trunks and tied bits of cloth around branches to mark where he had searched, marching deeper and deeper into the woods every day.

And so far, as he expected, nothing was in these woods except for a few lost locals and Sabor – the leopard – who seemed quite adamant on making Roxas his next meal. Every other day, the two would fight on the treehouse’s roof, and Sabor would always limp away – planning his revenge for tomorrow. Over the course of these two weeks, Roxas found himself respecting the leopard a little – at least he knew what he wanted, and fought for it.

What did Roxas want? Where did Roxas want to go? Where should he go? To whom should he turn?

I could go back, he mused, making his way through the jungle once again. I could go back and risk being used again. Oh, Xemnas would make good use of him, wouldn’t he? He’d hang him up by his puppet strings and make him dance again, and he’d laugh and laugh, and Roxas would be damned before he let that happen... no, not again.

And maybe he’d return anyway, if he didn’t have things to do, people to see. A list of people he longed to see again filled up his mental rolodex, and at the top of the pyramid stood the Flurry. It was an impossible dream, of course, because Axel might as well have been unreachable, or worse, he might be dead. What if the Organization were all still dead? What if he were the only one ripped out of the darkness and brought back to life? What then, Roxas? The thought made him stop cold in his tracks and head back to the treehouse – he mustn’t think that. He mustn’t think that Axel wasn’t alive – because he had to be.

Roxas knew he would not rest again until he combed the whole universe over, searching for him. It was impossible for him to grasp that maybe – just maybe – Axel was dead, and would not come back. He would not accept it until he had comfirmed it for himself. The image of Axel’s ultimate sacrifice would forever be burned in his memory. Sometimes he could still feel the flames licking his fingers – Sora’s fingertips, at the time – could still feel Axel’s life fading away. Sometimes the feeling roused him from his sleep, interrupting already turbulent dreams, as if to say, You’re not looking hard enough. Maybe you don’t care hard enough!

Maybe it was time to leave.

He could not stay in this refuge forever, he knew. Roxas peeled back the blinds on the tree house’s flimsy window, looking out at the idle forest in front of him, sighing out a long, heavy sigh. If he saw them, if he saw Superior, what would he say? Sorry for leaving. Then he’d laugh, and say. I found my answers. And they weren’t pretty, after all… He’d return to them, if he had to, if only for long enough to find Axel.

(And then what?) He didn’t know.
(Become their pawn again?) He wasn’t sure.
(What other choice do you have?) None.

A rustling from outside the tree house grabbed his attention, ripping him away from his musings. He smirked – was it the leopard? It would be like it, to try and defeat him one last time before he left, to try to be the victor before the games were finally over. Oathkeeper and Oblivion came at his call, and Roxas faced the doorway to the tree house, ready, but relaxed. “Sabor,” he called, tilting his head to the side. “We don’t have to fight. I’m leaving today.” And maybe he’d never come back. “There's… someone I have to find.” There were a lot of people he had to find, there were a lot of answers he needed once again… However, the leopard did not leap at him, and Roxas was beginning to wonder if Sabor had ever been there at all. He tensed, paranoid, suddenly unsure of himself. “...Show yourself!” he demanded after a minute, thinking how stupid it had been to stay in one place for so long.

It didn't matter. He was Roxas, and he could go through everything the only way he knew how. Pugnābit, Roxas. He will fight.

[ OOC | I promise, not all of my posts are long and ramble-y like this! My apologies! They'll be a lot shorter from now on... ]

[Sora]

No. Everything, everything, was turning out all wrong. Every fight and every struggle that Sora had fought in the past seemed insignificant now, pointless. It was as if all the hard work had been in vain. Worlds in disarray, darkness seeping into every corner of every heart yet again, terror from insane monarchs and leaders—literally everything was changing for the worse. Even Riku, his best friend, was gone… as if he were nothing more than a mischievous ghost that only wanted to do mental harm upon his best friends. It didn’t seem fair.

In the beginning of the inky chaos, Sora was brimming with a smooth optimism. Just like all the other journeys, this one would be over with the snap of a finger and things would either return to normal—or even get a whole lot better. Riku? Well, he just knew something that Sora and Kairi didn’t know, and left to stop whatever it was by himself. Riku is strong and brave and selfless; it seemed like a very plausible theory, and it still might be true. Sora prayed for it to be true…

As for the worlds that Sora had attempted to save during this last journey? Worthless, every effort struck down by chaos or evil drama or a rebirth of new and evil villains. Kings and queens were literally going insane, suffering from conditions unknown. Every journey to save a world from chaos and destruction ended up with Sora being bruised and battered, his legendary Kingdom Key unable to totally rid a place of the swarms of enemies. Heartless—They always managed to regroup and swarm yet again, making the teenager’s efforts futile. Nothing was working, nothing, and Sora’s heart at the end of every fruitless day felt like it was going to burst. He had never known such misery and failure, and failure for him… wasn’t usual. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Optimism and happiness was what this cheerful brunette constantly strived for—but every missed step seemed to take a chink out of his confidence, out of his upbeat personality, right to the point that he felt broken.

The worst part? The loss of friends. The separation of best friends. The possible oblivion of one--
Sora had to fix this. He was going to fix all of this no matter the painful price he had to pay.

---

The brunette was huffing from the exertion of his latest battle with the heatless, little threads of blood trickling down his slashed left wrist that was eventually healed with a simple cure spell. He was in the Deep Jungle to see what had become of this world, to see if this world had fallen into unfathomable chaos as well, and for the most part… it remained untouched, at least compared to the others. Well, it seemed untouched. Wonderland looked pretty peaceful too until Sora had delved deeper into the craziness of the lands and found that the Queen of Hearts had ordered the slaughtering of many, many innocent Wonderlanders in a panicked bout of paranoid madness.

Sora wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, peering around his primitive yet gorgeous surroundings. Creeping, evergreen-hued vines, rocks blanketed with velvety moss, ancient and grand trees that fought for the precious sunlight—everything was as it should be. Heartless still thrived, but they weren’t all that bad. Maybe things really were okay, maybe Sora could find Tarzan… and just maybe they could fight to save other worlds with other allies. The ideas and optimism came whirling back to the forefront of Sora’s, optimism lifting once again despite his tired body and bruised heart. Hopefully things would turn around. Sora had faith.

Suddenly, a growl—deep and fierce and violent; the eerie sound sent chills up Sora’s spine, causing him to freeze. He only moved when the pattering of heavy but swift footsteps came a little too close. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.” Sora hissed, snapping around and bringing his Keyblade up just in time to block the claws of Sabor. “You again?!” How many times must he beat the crap out of this thing? With exhausted movements, he blocked each strike and pushed against the big cat, battling for what seemed like an eternity. Taking advantage of an opening, he struck the animal with the teeth of his keyblade, creating a resounding hiss from the animal which immediately fled, hurt and limping. Thank the heavens; Sora was so tired. And he didn't know why; he had a break... some time ago.

The brunette made his way to the tree house, to the place he had first met Tarzan. That was as good a place to start as any, after all. Climbing up the vines, barely taking any breaks in his enthusiastic quest to get at least something accomplished, his tiredness soon turned to dangerous exhaustion. But he continued on. With each step he took, his movements became more sluggish; too stubborn was he to let up on his body. But finally, he made it. Crumpling, he slid on the netting and heaved a few heavy breaths on the backside of the tree house.

Then he heard a voice. Sora immediately stiffened, stifling his heavy gasps and muffling the loud sounds he had been creating. With a flash of brilliant light, Sora summoned his Kingdom Key, preparing for the worst. That voice just… didn’t sound like Tarzan.

“… Show yourself!”

Sora frowned, wary yet curious, unsure of what to do. The voice, young yet fierce, sounded so familiar. Finally the brunette decided: attempt to make peace with the figure, avoid senseless fighting. Standing, he made his way slowly and deliberately to the source of the noise, to the doorway of the tree house, attempting a airy and cheerful grin. Sora tried to mask his exhausted movements, but ended up utterly failing. “M’name’s Sora. Er—“ Still walking around the edge of the old tree house, he continued on chatting, leaning forward slightly to get a better look. “I was looking for a man named Tar—“

And then Sora stopped, staring at first the dark Oblivion and gleaming Oathkeeper, and then at the long cloak of the Organization, and then, finally, at the face of his nobody.
What?

OoC:// Not rambling. D: Really well written, actually. Mine was quite the boring ramble though. Hopefully it's okay enough~ ;;

[rokusasu]

You couldn’t just chalk this sort of thing up to coincidence.

The first familiar face he saw in this new life had to be his – Sora’s, the true Keyblade master, and his ‘creator,’ if not in the traditional sense of the word. Of all the people he’d seen, of all the passersby it could’ve been, destiny decided to have a laugh with his life (as it always loved to do) and bring the Keyblade master here, haunting this doorstep, as if to remind him what he truly was. A Nobody, someone without a heart, just a shadow of the real thing. Perhaps he should’ve put his Keyblades away, after seeing that this was just Sora, who wasn’t actively his enemy… right? Or had things changed? Despite the innocent face in front of him, Oathkeeper and Oblivion did not fade away.

“Sora. Long time no see.”

Except that was a lie – Roxas didn’t go a day without seeing Sora in his own reflection. Every time he looked in the goddamn mirror, every time he passed by a lake or pond and managed to catch a glimpse of his blue eyes dancing in the water – he would always see Sora there, Sora and his innocent dorky grin, Sora, who didn’t know a handful of facts about his own Nobody and all the strife he’d been through, ever since he figured it’d be a good idea to turn himself into a Heartless in the first place.

Granted, could he blame him? The only reason Roxas knew so much about him in the first place was because the information forced its way into his head. Back in those dark days, blindly working for the XIII, there wasn’t a mission that went by when Roxas couldn’t help but swear he’d been here before, where visions of this very same kid (dressed in dorky red shorts and obnoxiously yellow shoes, back then) would plague him like waking nightmares, as if to solidify the fact that he was not his own person, that he could not live his own life, without the image of Sora’s stamping his presence onto his soul – if he, Roxas, had a soul, that is.

“You know, I never thought we’d get to meet like this again,” Roxas admitted, shaking his head. “You know, face to face.”

He didn’t dare look Sora in the eye – for fear of what he’d see, eyes the same as his. He had looked in his eyes once before – back in the World that Never Was, where he told Sora to ‘look sharp’ and boldly accepted his fate, that he would not be coming back, that he no longer had a body to ‘come back’ to, anyway. He had been made of tougher stuff back then, or maybe he was so eager to try out this ‘being whole’ idea back then, maybe since she had been at his side? Maybe. Or maybe he didn’t want to relive the past again. Those damn blue eyes – he had spent such a long time without remembering them, and now, this blast from the past… how could he relive it?

Roxas continued on, smiling a sad smile. “But I’ve learned you should never say never nowadays. They say something impossible happens every day, right? Like me standing in front of you, for instance.” His face was full of bitter sarcasm, and he found his grip tightening on Oathkeeper and Oblivion, even though he knew Sora was not actively his enemy. Every bone in his body told him to put the blades down, but he couldn’t. How could he? He was brought into this world because of him. He had lived like a slave to the Organization because of his. He’d lost important people because of him, had his memories screwed with because of him, was treated as a lifeless puppet because of him…!

“Are you here "reclaim" me? End my summer vacation again?”

He wasn’t going to buy any of this ‘fuse with Sora and you’ll become whole’ bullshit ever again. He’d fight him if he had to – if he was here to ‘take him back’ then Roxas wasn’t going down without the fight of his life. He had to find Axel, he had to find Namine, he had to find someone else… someone else, whose memory was beginning to slip away…

[ OOC | dude, your post was definitely not boring, it was great! i wanna apologize for taking forever to post, my internet was going screwy on me... it won't happen again, scout's honor! ]

[Sora]

Roxas. Standing right there.

How was this even possible? Was there ever a moment, ever a reason, for the two to have been separated? Suddenly, as if by sheer (and foolish) instinct, Sora smacked his chest and his face, checking to see if his body was still physical and not just an apparition. Still there. Not to mention, the brunette didn’t feel any different. But… Didn’t he need his other half?

The brunette nodded slowly and briefly before molding his face into a confused frown. “I don’t understand… How are you here?” The question was blunt but straight to the point. Sora didn’t hold back for he was too dumbfounded, no point in trying to hide it. And Sora couldn’t help but stare suspiciously at the gleaming Keyblades, foreboding and distracting, and so his kept his own ready just in case. Roxas wasn’t summoning them away. What was the reason for that?

Again Sora nodded, but attempted at a friendly smile to alleviate some of this tension, this deadly aura that floated through the humid jungle air. It was no use though, the blonde wouldn’t even look into his eyes. How was this face to face? “Yeah, you’re right. I… never really thought I’d see you again.” Sora let out an uncertain chuckle, rubbing the back of his head as he searched Roxas for a reaction, “Not that it’s bad for us to be separated, I think. I just don’t know why…”

The brunette released a soft sigh, frowning at his own jumbled thoughts. Something seemed so wrong. When Roxas had faded, had peacefully rejoined with him to become whole… he seemed so happy. Now… now Roxas seemed different, like that time they fought in their very first meeting. The fight that Sora had nearly lost with Roxas being so incredibly powerful and quick, so merciless. The brunette didn’t know if he could win another fight like that in such an exhausted state like this.

The brunette paused with a fading smile, his face turning serious, not catching the sarcasm that smeared the face of his other. “Impossible things, they keep happening. Things keep getting weirder.” Another nod, and then came the pang of guilt. The worst part about the current state of everything was that he was doing absolutely nothing to solve it. No key could lock a world’s heart, no path could be formed through the use of special objects, nothing to help with the problem of the growing chaos. “I can’t stop it.” The brunette muttered it softly, a phrase barely audible, but the sound was distressed, sad. It wasn’t a tone that Sora normally took.

Sora immediately snapped back to reality at the other’s question, his head searching Roxas’s eyes. “No! That’s not what I want at all!” – It was weird though, how Roxas was separated from him at such a time, a time of chaos and fury. It was a horrific thought, but it suddenly occurred to the brunette that maybe, possibly, his other knew something about this. And Organization XIII—were they also revived? “You know something about what’s happening to the worlds, don’t you? How leaders are going crazy, how people are being attacked by hordes of heartless and darkness?” Sora’s eyes widened, his frown deepened as he hung on to the idea, desperate for a lead on what was causing the problem. Organization XIII seemed like the perfect people to do it, and it would explain the way Roxas acted, his bitter and defensive attitude. “What about the rest of Organization XIII? Are they alive too?”

The thought that everything Sora had ever done had been useless came back in full blast, enemies being reborn and all attacking at once, making Sora cringe at the wasted efforts and pain and time. Even the nobodies were back, humans (if they could be called that) that were so powerful and manipulative. The brunette clamped his eyes shut; trying to bring back some ounce of hope, but here lately hope was difficult to come by.

Sora lifted his Keyblade to guard his front, taking a defensive stance. So what if he was tired? He's fought Roxas and won before, he could easily do it again. But Sora didn’t charge, at least not yet, waiting for the blonde’s reply. The brunette was almost convinced though: it was all Organization XIII’s fault. The only thing that held him back was the fact that Roxas had left the Organization in the first place, was a traitor as all of the Organization’s members had annoyingly cried whenever Sora was around. “Tell me why!”

Why? Why everything. Why was Roxas was here? Why were people getting hurt yet again? Why was Riku gone?
Sora was desperate for information, and it was odd-- he actually wanted Roxas to be the cause of all this. It would give Sora a lead, give him a way to not feel so helpless and worthless and broken. The fact that Roxas was apart of him didn't matter... because he needed to know, and he was sure that Roxas knew.

OoC:// Oh gosh. ;; Tensiooon.
Anyway, it's perfectly fine. xD I know how it feels to have a virus murder my computer. In fact, I'm surprised that one hasn't struck this month. (Get them on deviantART, hotmail, facebook... wth. D:)
But woo for anger and misunderstandings.

[rokusasu]

“I don’t understand… How are you here?”

Roxas shrugged. “Destiny.” It was his answer for everything. “Or maybe I was meant to have my own body after all.” That was the answer Roxas truly believed – that somehow, destiny had ripped him from Sora, realizing that Roxas had made a terrible mistake, back at the World that Never Was. He was never meant to ‘fuse’ with Sora – that was giving up, that was giving in… He had been fighting for so long, fighting for his own answers, fighting to obtain his own heart… And in the end, he ended up leeching off of Sora’s heart, when really, that wasn’t true! Perhaps his rebirth could be considered a unsightly blemish upon the world – but Roxas didn’t see it that way. This was his second chance – to gain a heart, and if not that, then to at least start a new life – a life with his friends, away from the Organization, away from the darkness…

(If you can outrun the darkness, that is…)

It was strange – seeing Sora with his own eyes, because despite being his Nobody, Sora was so… different than him. He failed to detect the sarcasm in Roxas’ voice entirely, and despite Oathkeeper and Oblivion still being out on the field, he still tried to relieve the palpable tension (so thick, you could cut through it with a knife) by smiling, albeit awkward. Roxas bit his lip, trying to dredge up some sympathy for Sora’s cause from the midst of his hollow being, but could not find but an ounce. Apparently, the darkness was thicker in the air of the worlds now, and impossible, weirder things kept happening… Roxas could not recall seeing a higher count of darkness in this world, but Sabor had really been persistant lately. Although, Roxas could not count Sabor as evil, he wasn’t like the Heartless – which he had seen a lot of lately, but hadn’t really thought much of it.

Were things really that bad out there?

They were so bad, apparently, that Sora would try and press answers out of him. To Roxas, the situation was almost a little comical. The thought of Roxas having answers to a situation… it was almost like asking a polar bear for directions to Agrabah. Since when had Roxas ever known the answers to anything at all? Oh, that’s right – Sora barely knew a thing about him, after all. Just because Roxas had seen the world through Sora’s eyes didn’t mean that Sora had seen the world through his. He didn’t know anything about the maddening time he spent with the Organization; he couldn’t grasp the madness that was losing Axel, and then Naminé, and then someone else whose goddamn name he couldn’t even remember anymore!

“Heh. Look at you.”

Look at yourself, like I’ve always had to look at you…

Roxas displayed a perfect poker face, as he shook his head, disappointed. “I bet you’d love for me to have all the answers you’re searching for, so everything can just fall conveniently in your lap… like it always does, right?” Like it always had. Like it always will – except not this time. If there was a darkness, a madness, floating around out there, then Sora was up for another battle – one that Roxas didn’t really care about at the moment, which he didn’t have time to care about, anyway. He needed to find his friends, needed to know that they were alright. He was not, and never would be the hero of the worlds – that was Sora’s job, not his. It would never be his job.

“You’re out of luck. I don’t know anything. And despite the cloak, I’m no longer with the Organization XIII. I don’t even know if they’ve been ‘reborn’ or not.” He had just been wondering that himself, to be honest, before Sora had barged his way up in his temporary hideout. But if he did know anything about the Organization… Would Roxas even have told him? He was fond of some of the people there – besides Axel, obviously, he got along well with Demyx, Xigbar, even Luxord, sometimes… But Xemnas’ use of him as their plaything, it couldn’t be forgiven. Despite everything, he didn’t owe the XIII anything, not after what they had done to him…

Roxas tilted his head, smiling nostalgically. “And why would I know, anyway? Once a traitor, always a traitor, as they say…” Even if he did return to the XIII, what was the odds they’d take him back? Slim. He wasn’t part of them anymore. He didn’t want to be – what good would it do? He didn’t belong there. He didn’t belong there…

(So why do you still wear the cloak?)

Sora was ready to fight him – that much was obvious from his stance. Despite his defensive pose, however, Roxas could not bring himself to raise his Keyblade back toward his Somebody. Granted, he couldn’t bring himself to put the blades away, either. He sighed, finally bringing his eyes back to Sora’s eyes – flinching a little as he did so. Looking into them always solidified his position in these worlds – a Nobody, someone without a heart, someone who couldn’t feel… Someone who was brought into this world by this boy with the bright blue eyes.

“You look a lot like I used to, in my old life.” Roxas mused, partly to himself, but mostly to Sora. “Back then, I was desperate for answers too. So desperate, I’d fight the people closest to me, if it meant becoming more aware about myself.” Axel – he had fought him once, down in the simulated Twilight Town’s basement. Oh, and someone else too, the person he couldn’t remember – had he fought that person too?

“Fighting me would be a waste of time. You won’t find your answers here.”

He couldn’t let go of those damn Keyblades, though. Oathkeeper and Oblivion stayed in his grip for an eerie minute. Roxas closed his eyes, trying to will them away, but unable to put away that unwarranted grudge against Sora. He wasn’t the enemy, he knew, but did it matter? Why couldn’t he just fight him – he could win this time, if he concentrated…! He knew it wouldn’t solve anything, but goddamnit… Goddamnit…!

(Roxas... It's okay to let go.)

Oathkeeper and Oblivion finally vanished in a swift burst of light.

OOC | Gah, I get so many viruses from devART, it's crazy! I keep saying that I won't go back, but I never learn...

Oh, I just wanted to let you know, your post was ridiculously excellent! I read it over a million times, and then I was like, "Wait, I should probably respond..." xD

[Sora]

‘Fall… in my lap?’
The idea made Sora flinch with shock and hurt. Did Roxas really think that everything he did and every problem solved was just conveniently thrown at him? The brunette thought back to the (two) times he had chased through world after world on the heels of his best friend, to the time he was betrayed by three close friends, to the time of the sacrifice that gave birth to an insignificant shadow heartless and two—

Sora had felt pain and suffering, that much was definitely true, but it made him wonder… what would his other consider convenient or not? “I’m fighting as hard as I can.” The brunette softly muttered as if that was some sort of pitiful excuse; the comment wasn’t even defensive— just tired and truthful, but somehow it still sounded like an excuse. At least to Sora. “And I won’t give in until everything is set right, no matter what.” Hence the way his body sagged with exhaustion.

And then Roxas said he didn’t know a thing, squashing Sora’s hopes for a lead on what to do yet again. The brunette gaped for a moment, as if shocked beyond words, before clamping his mouth as he stared at Roxas for a moment with a look of stinging hurt. “I don’t believe you.” He muttered, though he was lying. The tone in Roxas’s voice was enough to convince him of anything. Besides, was there really a reason for Sora to distrust Roxas other than he used to be a part of the Organization? It took a few moments but Sora finally breathed a low sigh of defeat, lowering his weapon as he did so. He believed Roxas. And Sora couldn’t help but utter a quick but annoyed remark of “They wanted you pretty badly a while back. Fought me and tried to take me back as if I was you. Crazy idiots.” The brunette frowned, studying Roxas but knowing his quickly composed theory was useless and futile, but he went on, not wanting to give it up, “And how do I know that they didn’t just convince you to come back? Bribed you or something?”

Sora was calming down, gradually and unwillingly. He wanted to fight, to rip the answers out of Roxas, but that would be just as bad as any person of darkness he had met in his travels, to beat the crap out of someone with little proof or little reason. The Keyblade was a difficult thing to summon away though; Sora was ready for a fight after all. He wanted to do something substantial so badly.

Listening to Roxas’s words, Sora lifted his head in proud defiance, straightening his body in an attempt to look more capable and stronger. “Who said I was desperate? I’m just having a little trouble figuring out… what to do. Riku’s gone, again, and I’ve been trying so hard to find him—“ Suddenly, the brunette clamped his mouth shut, noticing how his tone gradually went from fiercely defensive to broken, a decrescendo of emotion. He really did sound desperate. “I’m doing just fine! ...I just… need some help.”

And then Roxas summoned away his Keyblades, a flash of light that Sora couldn’t overlook. Sora tightened his grip on the hilt of his own weapon, a look of surprise flashing across his face. Yeah… It would be useless to fight the blonde, and dangerous, but the want for Roxas to be the key to all his problems was almost too strong to bear. The impulse controlling, but it relented after a moment, his grip relaxed. There was no point, none whatsoever, and those words echoed in the brunette’s head for a few precious moments before he did the same, the Keyblade sounding out in a smooth but strong ring, Sora looking his other straight in the eye as he did so. Calm and sense had finally overtaken him. “I’m sorry... It was wrong of me to accuse you of something like that without proof.” Sora breathed, an apology barely audible above a starting tropical shower, water plip-plopping across the leaves and vines and bark as the brunette sighed and cast his eyes to his side, toward the direction of Jane’s camp. Maybe Tarzan was there.

It was a long while before the brunette could speak. His suspicion and anger had been replaced with shame, and he was unwilling to look into his nobody’s eyes. The rain drizzled and sprayed him, soaking Sora, but it was cool and refreshing to his hot body. Still yet, after a while, he felt like barging into that familiar tree house to find a comfortable spot to sit, and he would have if he didn’t feel so stupid right now, so childish and pitiful. “I came here to see if this place has gone downhill too, and to look for a friend called Tarzan. He’s a pretty cool guy, has a loin cloth, can speak ape.” Finally, Sora peered up and watched the blonde’s eyes for a sign of recognition. It was weird though, the brunette had never realized how much those eyes looked like his own… “Have you seen anybody like him? I was hoping he could help me.”

Suddenly, as if smacked with a lit light bulb, Sora perked up, seeming to forget all about his shame for a few thankful moments. Roxas could help! He’d made a fantastic ally! The brunette even smiled a little, friendly and tiny but still eager beyond compare. “If you’re not with the Organization and just staying in this jungle doing nothing, then why don’t you come with me to the other worlds? Help Kairi and me beat the darkness and find Riku?! And—“ Sora thought for a second, trying to give more of an incentive for Roxas to join him, “And if the Organization really did get reborn, coming with me would make it easier to find Axel, right? I know he really thought a lot about you!” Axel saved him because of Roxas, so of course he did-- “It’d be better than just sitting here and waiting for the darkness to come.” Sora’s smile had slowly went from tiny to broad, hopefully and radiant. “—So help me!”

OoC:// dA is an amazing site... so I don't really blame you. c: I used to never get viruses from that site, but here lately that's been very different.

Ohgosh, thanks. ;; I'm not lying when I say I did the same thing to yours. Your writing style is amazing.
And yes. My Sora... is very impulsive (Maybe too much so).