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Jul 23

I think Xemnas should get jealous of Axel and Saix and not know what to do.

Imagine Xemnas walks into Saix’s office to find Axel there and the two of them sharing dinner. Axel had found a place selling one of Isa’s favorite food and brought Saix take out after his mission. Axel uses Xemnas as an excuse to leave. Saix stares at Axel and keeps watching him for the next two days. Xemnas feels like Saix is avoiding him. Xem wants to kill them both and doesn’t get why until Xigbar spell it out for him.

Saix is meanwhile having a minor existential crisis because he forgot Isa’s favorite food.

I’ve sucked at writing lately but I’ve been thinking about this prompt for SO LONG and had to get something cranked out for 7/1 so <3 HAPPY XEMSAI DAY

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

—————

When Xemnas entered the office, the temperature in the air seemed to drop several degrees. Ironic, given the room’s current extra inhabitant.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Axel’s words, too, were cool. Two styrofoam containers lay open on the desk between him and Saïx, and Axel tossed a set of utensils into one of them, scooping it up as he rose to his feet. “See you around, Saïx,” he said, brushing past Xemnas with a lackadaisical wave over his shoulder. No semblance of respect ever seemed to make it into those foxlike eyes; a fact Xemnas had always found irritating.

Sitting stiffly at his desk, Saïx had a familiar tightness at his mouth, the kind he got when there was much suddenly on his mind. Xemnas watched his gaze follow Axel, lingering for a moment on the door after it latched back shut. The air in the office smelled heavy, rich with butter and spices. They must have been sharing dinner together. Irritation sparked within Xemnas at that, too, and he could not pinpoint exactly why. He never encouraged bonds between his members, but neither did he forbid them from casually sharing one another’s company. He didn’t care about Luxord’s poker nights, nor the chess matches Lexaeus and Vexen played with Zexion. He hardly even cared about Marluxia and Larxene’s probable treachery brewing behind their closed doors. It wasn’t as though any of it was going to change the plans in store for all of them.

But this, a simple meal shared between his adjutant and his assassin, displeased him for some reason he could not wholly discern.

Saïx closed the other container of food, pushing it aside to a corner of his desk as though he were trying to quickly forget about it. “Apologies, Lord Xemnas. I was working as I ate. What do you need?”

“Does Axel often take meals with you here?” Xemnas put on a tone of vague curiosity, any flickers of emotion excised all too easily from his voice.

“No.” Right away, Xemnas could tell that Saïx was being honest. The man was a terrible liar, hard as he sometimes tried. “He still likes to pretend at foolish sentimentality. I… used to enjoy this kind of thing when we were human. I don’t know why he thought bringing it back here would mean anything.”

Saïx was speaking just a little too quickly. Axel’s gesture had meant something. That, too, curled unpleasantly in Xemnas’s chest.

He gestured to the closed styrofoam. “What is it?”

“Does it matter, sir?” Saïx raised a thin eyebrow. “It’s only fuel. Hardly a distraction from my work.”

A chuckle rasped at the back of Xemnas’s throat. He was hardly concerned about how much Saïx was working. He knew well that it was, as always, more than enough. No, he simply wanted to know the same things Axel did. He wanted to know what made Saïx watch Axel’s departure with far more attention than Xemnas’s arrival. He wanted to know what still mattered, and why.

“I suppose not.” Xemnas’s words, like all else about him, rang hollow. He moved on to discuss business as though the encounter had not happened, but he did not miss the distraction that skirted across Saïx’s brow each time his gaze drifted to that little styrofoam box.

— — — — —

Saïx didn’t come to Xemnas’s room that night, nor the night after, nor the night after that. Xemnas never demanded that he come; he found it far more convenient to leave Saïx to his own wills, to let him think that his hands held all the cards instead of Xemnas’s. Saïx’s absence was never an impossibility. Xemnas did not like the timing of this absence, however. Was Axel’s room where Saïx had been going these last few nights, instead? What did Axel have to offer that the Superior did not?

Xemnas knew the answer, of course. Axel offered everything that Xemnas could not. Familiarity. Shared memories. Years of childhood spent in friendship. Even if that bond were finally severed, even if Saïx so often spoke of him bitterly, Axel still knew Saïx far better than Xemnas ever would. He knew Isa better than Xemnas ever would. Axel knew who Isa once was, what Isa once liked, knew all the little things that might stir up ghosts of feelings to root in the heart Saïx could not know about.

“What’s got you so riled up today, big guy?” Xigbar’s easygoing voice materialized at Xemnas’s shoulder, and he felt an arm sling around him, leaving a faint, smoky scent suddenly very close to his nose.

“How many times have I instructed you to knock?”

“Plenty. But I know as well as you do that you don’t really care.” Xigbar gave a tug to a strand of Xemnas’s hair before straightening, letting Xemnas turn in his chair to face him. “I know that look, too. What’s on your mind?”

Xemnas exhaled slowly, glancing out his window towards the comforting ethereality of his Kingdom Hearts. “I was merely thinking.”

“You’re always thinking.” Xigbar took a half-seat on one corner of Xemnas’s desk, resting his wrists over his knee. Of all his members, Xigbar was the only one whose gaze Xemnas ever truly felt inspected under. Mostly because Xigbar had always seemed to understand all the pieces there were to Xemnas better than Xemnas did, himself.

“I am concerned I may have been too lenient in regard to certain… developments.” Xemnas placed his hand over his chest to underline his point. “It seems there may be more distractions emerging amongst our ranks than I find it ideal to contend with.”

“Is that right? You finally gonna tell Xaldin and Luxord to quit getting it on in the training rooms? Oh, or is Demyx’s guitar thing getting confiscated? I guess it’s his weapon, yeah, but we’re all sick of that sappy new song he’s been writing.”

Xemnas’s mouth twitched. Again, he found he did not care what any of the others did. He didn’t care who Xaldin or Luxord slept with, and he didn’t care that Demyx was toying with creative pursuits usually reserved for those with hearts. There was so, so very little he truly cared about.

So why did he care about this?

“Have you noticed any odd behavior from Saïx and Axel?”

A faint gleam entered Xigbar’s lone, hawkish eye. “You mean other than all the usual scheming they think is happening behind your back?”

“Yes.” Of course Xemnas knew of those schemes already, the two’s Machiavellian endeavors to move Saïx’s piece across all the most favorable places on the board. He and Xigbar had discerned long ago that the vast majority of Saïx’s motives were ulterior. No, Xemnas was not concerned with those, either.

“Not really, then, no. Why? You see something?”

Xemnas felt himself hesitate for a moment—surely not as long as it felt to him, but just as surely still noticed under Xigbar’s uncanny perspicacity. “Perhaps,” he said as Xigbar leaned in. Xemnas avoided his cyclopean stare. “Axel brought a meal to Saïx’s office two days ago.”

There was a beat of silence. Xigbar blinked. “And?”

“And,” intoned Xemnas, tapping his fingertip in a slow, steady rhythm on his thigh, “it appears to have had an effect on Saïx. I have scarcely seen him in the time since.”

“Is that right?” A shadow of a smirk tugged at Xigbar’s lopsided mouth. “Are you worried about their hearts, or are you just jealous?”

“I cannot be jealous,” Xemnas snapped, harsher than he usually addressed his true second-in-command, and realized the mistake of his response when that knowing smirk flashed brighter.

“We both know everybody’s growing hearts again by now. You don’t have to act like you’re the exception around me.” Xigbar walked his fingers teasingly up Xemnas’s arm. “Be careful. You’re getting attached.”

Xemnas cast him a dull glare. “You also know that Saïx is of particular importance to the plan.”

“Of course I do. But I’m starting to think the old man’s heart isn’t the only one he’s taken a piece of.”

Xemnas shrugged Xigbar’s hand away, huffing through his nose. It was a gruff, petulant sort of sound that he did not normally make—only Xigbar, too, could so easily get under his skin. “I did not think the rift between him and Axel could be mended, but should their bond as humans linger… Axel has already become too loose a cannon. Should he go astray, he cannot be allowed to take Saïx with him.”

“Could he, even if he wanted to? Can’t you weasel your way into Bluebell’s pretty head and tell him no?”

Xemnas’s mouth slanted. Perhaps Xigbar was right. The recusant’s sigil Saïx bore was the easiest one for Xemnas to trace, and there was a power to the fragment of Xehanort’s heart nestled away in Saïx’s nascent one. Should he have to, he could likely force Saïx to stay right where he wanted him.

But such an option left a bitter taste in Xemnas’s mouth. No, he wanted Saïx to come to his side, to remain there willingly, to move his tongue on his own, double-sided or otherwise, when pledging his devotion. Xemnas was never wholly honest with Saïx, no, and perhaps his adjutant’s freedom of choice was an illusion anyway. But a part of Xemnas found comfort in that illusion, too.

“It would be more difficult for us,” he muttered instead, casting his gaze aside.

Xigbar looked doubtful, but sighed, hopping up from the desk with a theatrical shrug. “Seems like you’re making a mountain out of a molehill here, boss. How about you just invite him for dinner? If you’re so worried about him and Red patching things up, then step between ‘em, yourself. Make a night of it—the kid lives to feel special.”

The suggestion seemed absurd. However… Xigbar may have had a point. Perhaps all Axel’s gesture needed was simply to be overwritten with one penned by Xemnas’s hand, instead. Still, though, that nagging voice hissed its reminder in the back of Xemnas’s head: You don’t know Isa like Lea does.

He pushed it back into the box where he held all of his other reservations, and bade Xigbar to change the subject.

— — — — —

The Dusk seemed to have brought back too many bags. Xemnas was not entirely sure what was in them. An hour ago, he had told one of his cleverer Dusks to bring something back from a place where many people often gathered to eat—it had stolen someone's order, most likely. The smell wafting from the bags was warm and savory, though Xemnas recognized it as a different scent than what Axel had brought a few days ago. It would still suffice, wouldn’t it?

Leaving the tightly-tied plastic bags atop his desk, Xemnas dismissed the Dusk minutes before that familiar soft knock came at his door: three crisp raps, soft but firm.

“Come in.”

The door clicked open, then shut. Saīx strode in with his usual poise, the expression on his handsome face cool and even. “You wanted to see me, Lord Xemnas?”

“I did.” Xemnas went to him with a placid smile. He brought a hand to coast lightly down Saīx’s upper arm, his fingertips coming to rest just below Saīx’s elbow. Xemnas had never been certain why, but this body of his had always seemed swift to seek out physical contact with those to whom he considered himself close - Xigbar and Saīx, namely. “I have seen little of you these last few days. You appear to have been especially engrossed in your work.”

Saīx’s mouth pulled downward, pursing into that faint pout of his. “I have. There is always much to do. Marluxia believes he knows my work better than I do, and has begun to take liberties with his assignments. I’ve had to adjust a few missions.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Saīx replied smoothly. It was then that his gaze slid over to Xemnas’s desk, affixing to the stack of small, bagged boxes. The coolness of his expression broke as confusion furrowed at his brow. “What is this, sir?”

“Is that so?” Xemnas chuckled. Marluxia had recently become Saīx’s new favorite scapegoat. It was only a matter of time, Xemnas supposed, until Saīx came up with his own way to dispose of their eleventh and twelfth members. “Perhaps I should speak to him on your behalf."

“I hoped you might take this evening to rest.” Xemnas moved back to his desk, untying the bags and laying the boxes out neatly on his coffee table alongside two sets of flimsy plastic utensils and a few napkins. These little folded boxes seemed to be made of wax-reinforced paper this time instead of styrofoam, and there were indeed far too many for just the two of them. Lastly retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses from one of his cabinets, Xemnas looked back to Saïx. “Have dinner with me.”

The words had come out with a cadence somewhere between a command and a request, and the look Saïx gave him in return was difficult to read. “Is this because of Axel’s visit to my office the other day, sir? I told you, it was nothing.”

Xemnas felt thorns prickling just under the surface of his skin. “I am hardly concerned with Axel,” he lied, slipping his smile back on as he took a seat on his sofa and gestured for Saïx to join him. “But you mentioned you once enjoyed things such as this. We may have no hearts to feel with, but sensations like taste, touch—these aren’t lost to us.” He poured wine into both glasses, which clashed with the simple brown boxes. “I merely thought an evening of reprieve for you was overdue.”

Dutifully, Saïx took a seat beside him, though Xemnas recognized the guard raising behind those golden eyes. It would lower again soon enough, he hoped; its presence had seemed to be diminishing in Xemnas’s company more and more over these last few months. “If you insist, sir.”

”You know you needn’t call me sir when we are alone.” Xemnas’s lips quirked, and he set the topmost box down in front of Saïx before picking one up for himself. It was still steaming when he opened it, revealing a bed of pasta covered in a red sauce that smelled like garlic. “I consider you a friend, Saïx.”

“…I’m honored.” Saïx’s voice was quiet, and he had that distant look on his face again. His box appeared to contain the same thing as Xemnas’s, and he waited for Xemnas to begin eating before taking a small bite, himself. “But—with all due respect—can something like friendship truly exist among Nobodies?”

A hollow laugh reverberated from Xemnas after he swallowed. He hardly tasted the food; his focus was elsewhere as a sip of wine stained Saïx’s lips. “Perhaps not. But we remember what it was like, do we not?”

”I wonder, sometimes.” Saïx wiped his mouth, primly crossing his legs. “How strong are our memories, really? Which of them are still true, and which are only wishful thinking?”

Something twisted within Xemnas’s belly. “Tell me some of these memories of yours,” he ventured as Saïx methodically, almost vengefully, twirled pasta around his fork. “What you once liked. Who you once were.”

These questions didn’t matter, ultimately. Saïx was destined to be a vessel, a means to an end, a tool for Xehanort’s will. Anything Isa had been no longer existed, and if all went to plan, would never exist again. But, selfishly, Xemnas wanted to know anyway.

Far in the depths of his chest, Xemnas felt a twinge at the look of sheer, desperate longing that passed over Saïx’s face. Longing for a heart Xemnas could not tell him the truth of.

Saïx seemed to be organizing his thoughts, taking his time to chew and swallow. Xemnas wondered bitterly how many of those thoughts were of Axel. Of Lea. “…Why do you wish to know?”

”Can I not show interest in my members?”

”We don’t have hearts.” Rather aggressively, Saïx downed half his glass of wine in one go. “Your interest in me must be intellectual, or utilitarian. So which is it?”

Xemnas liked Saïx’s brusqueness. His cold, stern logic. That driven, stubborn passion that roiled like a volcanic ocean just beneath his surface. “Both,” Xemnas decided to answer honestly, setting his meal aside in favor of his wine. He watched it swirl in his glass before returning his gaze to the man next to him. “And more. Your value to me outstrips all others in this Organization. You are the one I have chosen to have at my side. I wish to know you.”

By the look on Saïx’s face, Xemnas’s words had struck true. Saïx yearned for a heart; that, Xemnas could not give him. But so too did Saïx yearn for a purpose, for a place to belong, for someone to belong to, and that Xemnas was all too willing to give. Especially if it were in Axel’s place.

Saïx began softly, the conversation somewhat stilted as they ate, but he told Xemnas of Isa. That he had once wanted a dog more than anything in the world, but had been firmly denied one by his parents. That he once saved all his munny for a telescope, and had quickly fallen in love with the moon and stars. That he liked winter best of Radiant Garden’s seasons.

Not once did he mention Lea.

Each confession of Isa’s past seemed difficult for Saïx to give, as though it took time and effort to carve each one out of himself. Xemnas knew, of course, that there was much Saïx would not, or could not, say to him, especially. But Xemnas filed away each and every fragment of Isa that Saïx offered him, even if it would never be enough. Even if it would never be what Axel had.

The excess food was abandoned as the night drew on, but they finished the bottle of wine. Silence settled on them, and Xemnas could all but feel the aching of Saïx’s longing beside him. Or perhaps it was his own.

”One day, when we have our hearts at last,” Xemnas eventually murmured, indulging himself in the fantasy of his own lies, “do you think you will look back on any of these moments fondly? Nights like this?”

Saïx met his gaze, irises another color now than Isa’s, but so very beautiful, laden with such powerful want. He slipped up to his place on Xemnas’s lap, and he didn’t reply, but he kissed him, the wine bittersweet on his lips.

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