Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Vindicated ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: Vehira

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or its characters, including the random Final Fantasy people that pop up. They all belong to Nomura.

A/N: Yet another fic. Enjoy the XigDem goodness! Rated for future chapters ;D

Non Anime: Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy / Adventure | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.29.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 302 | Status: Work In Progress

Demyx's lips were slightly swollen from being chewed on, but he still smiled at customers through the pain of the appearing sores. He would glance at the door of the guitar shop anxiously, expecting someone to come through. Not just anyone though; a certain person. Demyx wasn't even sure who he was waiting for and why, all he knew was that today would be the day that changed his life. For better or worse, he didn't want to ask. He believed that you should just let the waves of life roll at you as they come; especially since you can't do a damn thing to stop them, anyway.

His shift would be over soon, only for him to pace around the shop browsing the new and old merchandise he knew he could never afford. Well, maybe some of it he could if he saved up enough, but he couldn't hold onto money for the life of him.

He rapped his fingers on the counter, biting his lower lip, leaning his chin on his other hand which was propped up by his elbow. His sea-green eyes stared at the door, waiting and anticipating for the little bell to ring.

Demyx got bored soon and started flipping through a Nirvana song book for the bass. He played just about every string-and-pick instrument out there, his favorite being his treasured 3-stringed sitar. A smile came to his face even as he thought of it. His sitar to him was like a puppy to a child. He adored his `baby'; a multi-tint blue and white sitar that he had found, reconstructed and repainted when he was around eleven.

Caught up in his reminiscing, Demyx didn't hear yells from the back of the shop. When he heard a round or ten of gunshots pierce the air, however, he jumped, fell off his stool, and freaked out. He shot to his feet, stuck between wanting to see if the people in the back were alright and wanting to shit his pants right then and there. Strangely enough, the thought of hauling his ass out of there never crossed his mind…

Thunderous footsteps stomped madly towards the front where Demyx was. A man was yelling orders, and had a strange accent. Another voice shouted back an affirmative and his footsteps faded. Demyx still had no sight of the intruders until the supposed leader came waltzing from the back, machine gun propped up on his shoulder. He wore a black coat and had the hood up, so Demyx couldn't see his face. Still, the idea of running was miles away from his train of thought.

He felt oddly…safe.

The gunman spotted Demyx, and hurried up to him. Demyx was scared. Here comes this big, muscular man with a humungous machine gun on his shoulder, running up to him as if they were long-time friends. Yeah, he was doing that little trot thing people do when they see someone they know and try to catch up to them. How…weird.

The man leant forward on the counter, and Demyx could feel him grin.

“Any cameras around, kiddo?”

Demyx looked around, not entirely sure himself. He bit his bitten lip. “I-I don't th-think so…” he stuttered. The man looked around for himself and nodded a little.

“Mind if I take off my hood? It's kinda hot in here.”

Demyx was gaping. “G-go ahead…” he said. The man sighed, lowered his gun, and shrugged off his hood. Demyx blinked. The gunman was a slightly older man, late twenties—early thirties maybe—as betrayed by the silver streaks in his long, tightly pulled back black hair. He had one predatory golden eye, the right one covered by a pirate-style eye-patch. A grotesque scar was carved into his left cheek, starting at his jaw and just barely hitting his sculpted nose at a point.

The guy was quite older, but Demyx couldn't stop staring. He wasn't attracted—he thought—and he wasn't about to drool or anything. He was just…fascinated. The man laughed, a sound that came from the back of his throat.

“What're you staring at, little dude? Ain't ever seen a guy with an eye-patch and scar before?” he asked, grinning. Demyx noticed the sharp canine teeth and pointed ears, giving the man an animalistic look.

“No…but I sure as hell haven't seen a guy with a big-ass gun on his shoulder, s-sir.” he replied, blushing lightly. The man laughed loudly again.

“I like this kid!” he exclaimed, hitting the counter with his fist. Demyx looked around to see if there was anyone else, because the gunman sounded as if he were talking to someone. He laughed lamely, nervously, shrugging. The gunman hushed and stared at him as he did, only to burst out laughing again. Now Demyx felt insulted.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, embarrassed. The man took a minute to finish laughing.

“Your laugh is hilarious, dude! Damn, I bet Xemmy might take a liking to ya!”

Demyx blinked. “Xemmy?” That was…an odd name.

“Well, his name's Xemnas. Don't tell him I called him that; he hates it!”

“Um…okay…so…what do you want from me?”

The man blinked at him. “What d'ya mean, kid?”

Demyx was sure that if he were in an anime, he'd have a large sweatdrop blooping down his head right now. “Uh…aren't you like…robbing this place?”

The man rubbed his chin. “Yeah, but not for guitars or money.” he said, grinning a toothy grin at Demyx. Demyx swallowed.

“R-really?”

“As if! Nah, we came for something more…valuable.”

Ah, damn. That feral, `I-got-ya-right-where-I-want-ya' grin again…

“What would that be? Did your partner go get it?” Demyx asked innocently. The man chuckled darkly.

“My name's Xigbar. And I came for you, Demyx.” he said lowly, head bent down and eye peering upwards. Demyx's face lit up red, and he vaguely wondered why he was blushing. Xigbar reached out and traced Demyx's collarbone, efficiently shocking him into silence. “So, let's go. Bring what you need from here with you. You're never coming back.” he ordered, bringing his fingers up Demyx's throat, tipping his chin upwards as he turned to walk away. Demyx was still blushing horribly.

“W-why?!” he yelled, instantly slapping his hands over his mouth. He just yelled at a guy with a gun! A big gun!

Still, running was not making any sense…

Xigbar looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Meet me in the back, little dude.”

Demyx watched him go, his heart racing. When Xigbar was gone, he snatched his messenger bag, his paycheck in cash from the register, and wrote a quick note explaining where the missing money was. He hoisted himself over the counter, and his head spun to the front door next to him. He could leave…escape…

But that possibility was still not fully processing.

He ran to the back, stuffing the cash in his pocket and shifting his shoulder strap over his head. It smelt of smoke here…probably from the machine gun.

Demyx noticed the lack of people and blood, so he was relieved that no one was harmed. But where did they all go?

“Kid! Hurry up!” he heard Xigbar call. Demyx sprinted out the back door, which was blown off its hinges, and spotted Xigbar along with another cloaked man, who had his hood up, standing next to a black Hummer. Demyx felt dizzy at the size of the vehicle. It was huge!

And he tended to not do well with heights…

But Xigbar's angered face gave him the hint to `suck it up and haul ass into the fucking car now'. Demyx rushed over, panicking. His skin paled, eyes wide.

“Wh-what's going on?” he asked, darting his gaze around. He was getting paranoid…

Xigbar ruffled Demyx's hair, the previous irritation gone from his face, replaced with a wide smirk. “Nothing. Get in the car, buckle up, and keep Axel company.” he said and opened the door. Demyx's heart skipped a beat.

Axel…