Chapter 7

“…Vivi?!” Light enveloped his body, and then it changed into one of those weird silver creatures. Two more appeared, like they were seeping out of the air, and fluttered to the ground. Now there were three of them, writhing closer and surrounding Roxas. “Ugh, these things…” He lifted his toy sword, and this time light flashed along it and transformed it into that oversize key—the Keyblade. “Guess this means I have to fight them…!” Roxas slashed at the things with the Keyblade. It was the same as when he’d fought the one outside the haunted mansion. They weren’t easy to hit, wiggling and dancing around as they did, but now Roxas felt that he could. As soon as the Keyblade was in his hand, he could feel himself brimming with power. I won’t lose to these things. Not to a few Dusks. The Keyblade shone brightly as it scattered the Dusks into nothingness. When the fight was over Roxas stood, panting heavily, surveying the scene, but time was still stopped. Hayner and the others were still stuck as motionless as mannequins. “Now what…?” Roxas frowned. Wait… How do I know what those things are called? But I do know—they’re called Dusks. Our servants. As he stood there, dazed, he heard the sound of someone clapping from behind him. “Who’s there?!” He turned to see a man in a black cloak. “All right, Roxas! Fight, fight, fight!” The man’s tone had a hint of teasing in it. And while the cloak looked the same, Roxas knew it wasn’t the same person who had stolen their money outside the train station. But who was he…? The man walked steadily closer. “So you really don’t remember, huh?” he said, as if he wanted to confirm something, and pushed back his hood to reveal bright-red hair. Am I supposed to be remembering something? thought Roxas. But I’ve never seen him before. “It’s me. You know, Axel.” “Axel?” Roxas repeated. “Talk about blank with a capital B. Yeah, this is way too much for Dusks,” Axel went on to himself, stretching his arms to either side. At each hand appeared circle-shaped bladed weapons—chakrams. “Wait a sec,” Roxas protested. “Tell me what’s going on!” Axel didn’t seem hostile, so he wanted to ask, Why were all these things happening to him? What did it mean? “This town is his creation, isn’t it? So we don’t have time for a Q and A. You’re coming with me, conscious or not. Then you can hear the story.” Roxas could make neither head nor tail of this. Somebody’s creation? Going with him? Where? Axel readied the chakrams and Roxas edged backward. And then—the world warped again. “Uh-oh,” Axel muttered, taking in the scene. But Roxas couldn’t hide his frustration anymore. He hurled the Keyblade at the ground. “What’s going on?!” The Keyblade struck with a metallic clang and spun away over the dirt. He was so angry. All these things were happening, and he was the only one out of the loop. Something was starting, and he had no idea what. It was unnerving—and infuriating. He didn’t even know how to stop it. “…Roxas.” Axel said his name again, and he looked up. In the same instant, the Keyblade flew back into his hand, as if it was drawn there somehow. “Number thirteen. Roxas, the Keyblade’s chosen one,” Axel intoned, his eyes on the shining Keyblade, as he took a fighting stance with his chakrams. “Fine… You asked for it!” Roxas snapped and fell into stance with the Keyblade, too. “Yeah! That’s more like it!” Axel leaped up and struck with the chakrams, then gave Roxas a flying kick that sent him sprawling. Axel was far, far stronger than the Dusks. But there was something off about him, Roxas thought as he scrambled to his feet. What was it…? What made him seem so strange? “Time to heat things up!” A gust of flame shot forth from Axel’s hand, knocking Roxas back again. “Ha-ha! Nice, Roxas!” Axel was laughing—why was he having so much fun? Actually, fighting him was kind of fun. Roxas was so fed up with all these things happening to him, and he couldn’t stand this Axel guy spouting all this weird stuff with his smug know-it-all face—and yet, fighting him like this wasn’t all that bad. What’s going on? How am I having fun fighting him? He’s obviously holding back against me… Why? What does it mean? Even as his internal monologue questioned everything, he rushed at Axel and swung the Keyblade. Grinning, Axel caught the strike with his chakrams. “Hah! There’s the Roxas I know!” “Axel… What do you know?!” Roxas demanded, breathing hard. Axel’s face, up close and personal, looked sad for an instant—or was he only seeing things? But why—? What did Axel know? “Can’t tell you at the moment,” Axel said. “You can, too!” Roxas shouted, and swung the Keyblade up. And once again, the world twisted and shuddered. In the middle of the arena, there was a flash of light, along with a strange sound—something electronic. The flash left another man standing there. He wore red cloth bandages over his face and a red cape. “…Who’s that?” Roxas said. “So it was you…!” Axel jumped up and flung his chakrams at the newcomer, but they only bounced off some kind of barrier, a wall of light. “Roxas, this man speaks nonsense,” the man told him in a deep baritone. “Roxas, don’t let him trick you!” yelled Axel. Roxas turned back to him. Trick me? Trick me how? Which part is nonsense? Why are these guys coming to talk to me? He didn’t know. He hardly knew anything. “Roxas!” “Roxas!” “Roxas!” He couldn’t even tell anymore which one of them was calling his name. The voices began to feel like they were coming from inside his head. The air warped. His head ached. “Hayner…,” Roxas mumbled. He could say his friends’ names. “Pence…” He could think of his friends. “Olette…” He could feel their friendship. “Hayner! Pence! Olette!” he cried. The names of the people he wanted to see more than anything, so badly his heart was breaking for them. And then, the strangeness in the air went away. Axel and the man in the red cape were both gone. Right in front of him, Vivi was slowly falling. “What? What just happened?!” shouted Wallace, the MC. A wave of cheering rose from the spectators. “Huh… How did I get here?” Vivi murmured, and then tottered off. “Roxas!” Hayner and his other two friends ran up to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, Roxas, the winner of this year’s Struggle!” Wallace announced. Olette bounced with jubilation. Roxas, however, still looked unhappy. “Roxas…?” Hayner asked, worried. “Wha…?” “Are you okay? You know you won, right?” “Oh. Yeah…” So he’d won the Struggle. But he didn’t feel like smiling at all. At that moment, cheers rose from the crowd again. “Set-zer! Set-zer!” The current champion, Setzer, was already there in the middle of the arena, basking in the crowd’s appreciation. “Roxas, it’s starting!” Olette said. Finally, he looked up. But he was more concerned with the things he’d just seen than the battle with Setzer. Axel…the man in the red cape…the dreams…the Dusks…the Keyblade. And Sora. Was it all connected? “Okay, you two. Play fair,” said the producer. “You’re at the top of the bracket.” “There’s only room for one up here,” Setzer replied. “Well…may the best man win!” Roxas went to his starting spot and lifted his weapon. Now that he’d fought that guy—Axel—he felt like he could win. Setzer leaned in as he passed. “Say, Rucksack… How about you throw the match for me?” he whispered. “Huh?” he blurted. At the same time, he heard Hayner shout at him, “Roxas! Focus!” “Let me win, and I’ll make it worth your while,” Setzer pressed. “Get real,” Roxas retorted, and the fanfare rang out. “Roxas, our new rising star, versus Setzer, the defending champion!” the MC announced. “The winner of this match will be this year’s champion—that’s bragging rights clear until next year, folks! All right, let’s…” “Struggle!” The instant everyone screamed that word, Roxas dashed within close range of the taller boy and struck as hard as he could at Setzer’s torso. “What?!” Setzer fell backward and landed with an undignified plop. “I’m not supposed to—” His griping was drowned out by the raucous cheers, which sorted out into one word: “Roxas! Roxas! Roxas!” Everyone was shouting his name. “Roxaaas!” Hayner came running, followed by Pence and Olette. “You did it!” Olette was hopping up and down with excitement. The townspeople clustered around them. “Congratulations, Roxas!” The producer handed him the championship belt and then the sizable trophy. The crowd clapped and cheered. “Ow, ow, ow…” Something had flung Axel back so violently, he had hit the back of his head. Rubbing the sore spot, he got to his feet. He looked up at the dark city lit only by neon signs. The smell of rain hung in the air, and the “moon” in the sky seemed small from here. That man, the one who’d been playing mind games with Riku in Castle Oblivion—he was called DiZ. To a certain extent, Axel understood what had happened in that castle, but he didn’t know who DiZ was or what he wanted. He’d gotten into Naminé’s head, too. “It smells like him…” That’s what the leader of the organization had said. Was there some connection between DiZ and that man? And if Axel was right, was there some staggering secret behind Roxas? That would mean Axel had made a huge mistake back in Castle Oblivion, which resulted in bringing DiZ and Naminé and Riku together… “No way…,” Axel mumbled to himself, walking along the dark city streets. This city, cloaked in darkness…and Twilight Town, lit sideways by the setting sun. The two places felt alike. After all, both of them had something to do with Roxas. As for which place suited Roxas better…Axel wasn’t sure. The clock tower that crowned the station stood about fifty feet above the ground, and the sunset they could see from up there was even more beautiful than usual. The four friends sat on a ledge that stuck out just a little over the clock face, relishing the glory of the day’s victory. Clutching the Four-Crystal Trophy, Roxas watched the sinking sun. He flicked one of the crystals with his fingernail, and it rang softly. First, he took the yellow crystal from its setting and gave it to Olette. “Ooh!” she cried. Then he gave the red one to Hayner and the green one to Pence. Finally Roxas pried out the blue crystal and held it up himself to the setting sun. It sparkled brightly, refracting the day’s last light. “As promised!” he told his friends. “Thanks, Roxas!” said Pence, likewise holding his green crystal up to the light. “More treasures for us to share.” Hayner held his crystal aloft, his gaze fixed on it, as if offering it to the sky. “I’ve got a present for all of us, too.” Olette took out four sea-salt ice cream bars. “All right!” Olette distributed the treats, and just as Roxas accepted his, he slipped. “Wha—? Augh!” As he fell from the height of the clock tower, everything he could see shrank into darkness.