Chapter II: Backbiting

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The Night

Chapter II: Backbiting

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April 8th, 2023

7 pm, and his odd job is done just in time for the sun to be sinking in the sky.

The shopkeep turns the corner, just as Roxas hoists the last box into the delivery truck, and flashes a wrinkled grin at the teen.

"Another job well done, my boy," He remarks in his old, kind voice. "In record time too! My stars, if any of my full-time employees worked as hard as you, I could be sittin' on the beach at Destiny Islands for my retirement even sooner!"

Even though Roxas has heard similar compliments from the same man over the years, it never ceases to bring a smile to his face. Poor guy has been trying to retire since Roxas was a child, but his greedy kids have been keeping him far from it.

"Thank you, sir. I'm glad I could help."

"Such a polite young man! My stars, if my wife, God rest her soul, had the pleasure of meeting you—why, she'd go ahead and pluck you up and call you her son right on the spot!"

Another oft-heard comment, but Roxas laughs anyway—the thought of belonging to a different family is a joy in itself. He has met this elder's wife before, back when he was about 15. He, Hayner, Olette, and Pence went on a rescue mission for her lost cat (who was actually sitting on the roof of her shop the whole time). Still, the joy in her withered face upon the feline's return was reward enough for their actions. She died about a year after that, an injury of some sorts, and her husband took over the business shortly thereafter.

"Well now, Roxas, you better hurry home before it's dark." The man reached into his pocket, pulled out some munny, counted it, and then handed it to the teen with a gentle smile.

When Roxas got it, he counted it himself: 700 munny.

"Uh, sir," He looked up to the chipper man, confused. "This is 700, my part-time pay is only 300."

"'All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them'," He croaked solemnly. "A wise man once said that. My boy, I can tell you have a dream that you are pursuing wholeheartedly. I can see that same spark in your eye my wife had when she opened this little shop, and just like with her, you have my support."

A warmth crept into Roxas' chest, and he pocketed the munny without further complaint. "Thank you, sir. That means more to me that you can possibly realize."

"Now! On your way, young man! You've done enough for this old coot, you needn't spend the rest of your night here!" He shooed Roxas off, and the teen waved goodbye as he left—grabbing his skateboard off the ground as he did.

Aiming for Market Street, Roxas decided to walk rather than ride. The early summer warmth was nice, and the stillness of the streets was also something to be appreciated. It seemed utterly empty considering it's Saturday, but then, Roxas figured, all the action is around the Tram Common or in Sunset Terrace. Market Street is usually tame if it's not the early morning, after school, or 5 o'clock rush. Lazy, quiet days like these are what Roxas lives for, and they almost make living in this awful place tolerable.

If only, is a consistent thought of his. If only it were that simple; this alone could be reason to stay. If only...

But tranquility begets chaos, and liars beget corruption which begets ruin. A town of fresh paint over the rotting canvas that slowly eats into the vibrant pigments. You can paint this town in whatever light, or with whatever perspective, but that canvas will devour each and every stroke with the truth, no matter what you do. So Roxas stomachs the truth, but at least this temporary painting is pretty enough to enjoy while it lasts.

That's when he sees it.

A splotch of black that suddenly worked it's way into the portrait—literally.

A lanky, hooded man in a long black cloak strides down from the top of the Market Place; each step taken as if he's stepping forth from the shadows themselves. Despite his graceful stride, he seems turned around—as if looking for something lost or forgotten. He certainly doesn't look like he belongs here, and Roxas is positive he hasn't seen this figure before. Hell, the guy stands out so much, Roxas is surprised he hasn't at least heard of such a sight—in this town of all places...

So, of course, Roxas goes to investigate; more so out of curiosity than courtesy.

A few feet into his pursuit, Roxas noticed the man is holding a small piece of paper toward which his head was tilted. About halfway up the street, he was merely a yard-and-a-half away from the stranger, who was still intent on their paper. The tall figure didn't seem to notice him at all.

"Excuse me," Roxas called out, and the man jumped in fright. Suddenly, the figure seemed panicked, as his hooded head was turning in nearly every direction. Regardless, Roxas continued, "Are you lost? I don't believe I've seen you around here."

"No, no, no," A suave, friendly (familiar?) voice drifted from the hood, "I'm fine, I thought I got this place memorized, and then—"

"Wait," Roxas interrupted him; he recognized this strange man's voice somehow. "Do I... know you?"

There was a long, awkward pause. Roxas' eyes looked deeply into the darkness of the hood to no prevail, but he was sure he knew this person from somewhere, even if the dark cloak was unfamiliar. There was something there, in the back of his memories, gnawing on his brain.

And then, "Holy shit," the man chortled. "No way. Roxas?" Gloved hands pulled back the hood to reveal a shock of fire-red hair and grinning emerald eyes. "Is that really you?"

Hit with a full wave of realization, Roxas' eyes go wide as the memories overload his brain—all but one. A name.

"You're—" He splutters, "You... You're... uh..."

"Talk about blank with a capital B—you really don't remember? It's me!" The redhead exclaimed, face alight with joy. "You know... Axel!"

Roxas mirrored the look just then, and the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He slammed his hand against his forehead, laughing hysterically. "How can I forget the kid who almost set our elementary school on fire?!"

"So you remember that..." He chuckled heartily, "I'm so flattered!"

"I guess I just committed it to memory."

They both laughed, and Axel moved in to embrace him in a friendly hug, which Roxas returned wholeheartedly.

"It's been so long," Axel's muffled voice floated from Roxas' shoulder. "How's my best friend been? How's Twilight Town?"

Roxas pulled away from the hug, but both men still held onto eachother's elbows. "Too long, you mean. I've been just about as good as the town..."

Axel grimaced. Though his childhood memories of Twilight Town were fading, he knew this was for certain: "That's not good at all."

"You're telling me," Roxas shrugged, "And what about you? I haven't heard from you since you moved."

It seemed like so long ago... much longer than it actually has been. Axel and his family left for Dusk City right at the end of seventh grade. After their leave they were deemed crazy for taking a child to what is otherwise considered to be Hell. Meanwhile, all the children just thought he moved because he nearly burnt the school to the ground with simply a box of matches and a stuffed Moogle plush. He was a hero in their eyes ever since, and Roxas was lucky enough to call himself Axel's best friend.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," He broke from the grasp to rub his neck in shame. "My parents didn't let me contact anyone from Twilight Town. As time went on I just kind of... gave up. Moved on." He threw his arms up, smiling. "But hey! I'm here now! At least for a while."

Roxas gave him a bemused face. He is about four years younger than Axel, but somehow they had a strong connection, and it was suddenly pulled from beneath his feet like a slick rug; that was very devastating as a child. Of course Axel's sudden presence didn't make up for years of wondering and absence, but Roxas was happy about it none-the-less.

"Speaking of, how have your parents been?" Axel prodded him, still chipper.

"Well my dad has hit the bottle pretty hard, and my mom-" Roxas suddenly choked. "My mom she... well..." The words caught on his tongue like a hook: everyone knew about his mother. In this place something like that is nearly impossible to miss. For a whole month after the incident, every conversation was filled with condolences but never did Roxas ever start them. It was always someone else sharing their grief, and since everyone knew, he never had a chance to really say it. Not to anyone.

"My mom is... well, a year after you left..."

"Deep breath, Roxas," Something familiar echoes in his head, "Breathe in... now out. Tell me what happened."

Roxas sucked in a breath, and braced himself as if a tsunami was coming his way. "She's dead. My mom is... dead."

Axel's face fell.

"Holy shit... I think we need to catch up."

They walked all the way from that spot to the Tram Common's hole in the wall; talking the entire time. Roxas filled Axel in on his life, and vice versa. It turns out Axel's family moved mostly because of a job offering for his mother, and partly because of the fire incident (a smart move, considering it's Twilight Town). Once Axel hit 16 he scored an amazing job and filed for emancipation from his parents. It was granted just before his mom and dad planned to move halfway across the world for the same reason as before, and he's heard little from them since. Meanwhile, he's been doing pretty good in Dusk City, has two roommates (one of which is his boyfriend) and came to Twilight Town as part of his job.

"Is that your work uniform then?" Roxas asked, looking amusedly at his cloak. "Suit and tie just didn't work out or something?"

Axel chuckled and leaned his back against the wall beside the hole. "Hey! For your information I do have a suit and tie. This is just my field uniform." From his pocket he uncovered a pack of cigarettes, Moogle 100s, and pulled one out of the box with his lips.

"Smoking? Really?" Roxas rubbed a temple and chuckled at the taller man. "Fire really is your thing, isn't it?"

"You have no idea," Axel cupped a hand over the cancer-stick and reached his other hand up as if he had a lighter. After a short pause, during which Axel glanced uncomfortably at Roxas, he let out an awkward laugh before reaching into another pocket. "Heh heh, ahh so used to having this thing in my hand all the time... so to speak..." He brandished a lighter adorned with-of course-flames and a little VIII scribbled in silver permanent marker across it's surface. "My boyfriend thinks it's sexy."

"Oh really?" Roxas leans on the wall next to him. "Your boyfriend sounds odd."

Axel made a smug face, and flicked the lighter on behind his cupped hand. "Well he is a musician."

Roxas titled his head back in a bid to out-smug his old friend. "Do tell."

Axel took a short drag before speaking through the smoke. "You should hear some of the music he plays, Roxas." He let out a longing sigh; granting the remaining smoke in his lungs freedom. "The way he strums those chords with those hands, and looks at me with those big, ocean blue eyes..." Axel hummed in content as he took another, longer drag from the cigarette. "So fuckable."

"Okay, okaaay loverboy," Roxas laughed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You got me. That's all the info I need."

"Whatever you say, but you asked for it." He ruffled Roxas' hair. "So you said you're a senior next year. Got any plans afterward?"

A sudden, strange feeling washed over Roxas: for the first time ever, he felt like he could tell someone about his convoluted plans for the future. Axel doesn't live here, and at the moment, his only ties to the Town of Terror are Roxas and that mission of his. This strange feeling felt so liberating and light... it was relief. It was so powerful Roxas was thankful for leaning against the wall earlier because he really could collapse from it.

He took a nice, fresh gulp of air,

"Well..."

And he told Axel everything. Everything down to the raw detail, and with each little bit he shared he felt the weight on his shoulders slowly chip away. God it felt good, like escaping the grasp of a looming shadow that followed from what seemed like so long ago. Afterward, he felt like a ragdoll: relaxed, happy, free. He savored the moment because, like all good things, he knew it was only temporary... but fuck was it damn, damn good.

"So you're thinking of making a great escape to Dusk City, huh?" Axel smiled down at his friend mid-drag, who looked overtly content. "You know it's dangerous."

"Yeah, all those spooks. So scary." Roxas chuckled. However, Axel frowned.

"I mean it, Roxas. Do you know what's out there?" Before Roxas could answer, Axel interrupted. "And there are no 'spooks', they've outlawed necromancy because of that a while ago. Do you know how long it took u-them to liberate all those souls? Plus the vampires, werewolves, gargoyles, and casters are nothing to scoff at."

Suddenly, Roxas was less sassy and more interested. "Casters?"

Axel sighed, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this-anyway, Casters are witches and warlocks. W-they, they cleared out the ghosts. They manage all the creatures of the night, for lack of better term. Keep them in line, bring them to justice, et cetera."

"I see... well, if it's so structured, I should be fine then. Especially if you're on the clock."

Axel pinched the bridge of his nose. "God damn-wait..." He looked at Roxas, plainly confused. "What?"

"I'm not dumb Axel, I heard you almost say 'us' and 'we'. You're part of them aren't you? Is that your stellar job: waving your magic wand, bibbity-bobbity-booing all the monsters away?"

Axel took a long, long drag of his cancer-stick, eyes never leaving Roxas', and it was clear that he was very obviously stalling. It was only after he let the smoke go in a slow, drawn out breath that he spoke.

"I'll tell you what," His hand slipped into his pocket yet again, this time brandishing a business card. "Call me when you get to Dusk City. I'll put a good word in with the boss for you in the meantime; and if you land the job and make it to the city, you'll get to learn all about what I do. Got it memorized?"

Roxas took the card, unsatisfied with the response. However, a job's a job, and if it's Axel who's recommending it, why the hell not?

They parted ways soon after that; Axel, having nearly forgotten about his mission, disappeared into the hole in the wall to complete it. A few weeks later Roxas received a package in the mail. Inside was a coat, (just like Axel's, but tailored for Roxas) and a note. He stored them in his keepsake box, along with Axel's business card.

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