Illusion

The cold wind ricocheted off of the alley walls, brushing against the soft, tear stained cheeks of the young nobody. The feeling burned against the semi dry skin, drying up the evidence. Roxas wiped the tears away with the back of his coat sleeve, sniffing loudly and exhaling in a shaky breath.

It was no use. Every time it seemed like he'd cried enough to fill a river, a fresh flow started to bleed from his once innocent, indigo eyes. A low growl started to grown in the back of Roxas's throat like the sound of a feral dog. He was so angry at himself.

"A-all th-those things I said to you..."

On cue, more tears. This time accompanied by choked sobs and weak knees. He slid down the grungy alley wall and and pulled his knees close, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, like that would keep him in one piece. His chest heaved painfully causing the fragile being to slink further into the wall.

"Number VIII is dead."

The voice run in his ears like a broken record. Repeating the harsh, chest caving news over and over again. Roxas tightened his death grip around Oblivion's handle and raised it above his bowed head. With one mighty thrust, he sent the weapon spinning off into the darkness of the alley. The piercing screech of metal on concrete broke the silence and the little bit of composure Roxas had left.

He let out a blood-curdling roar that shook his whole body. He pulled his hair, he scratched his gloved nails down his face and neck. The tendons in his wrists threatened to snap like a tort wire. He did anything to get the tight tangle of emotion out of his small chest.

"Axel! No!"

The once happy, mischievous voice that echoed around the walls of Castle Oblivion was now a mess of screeches, swears and choking. With all the strength he could muster from his shaken frame, Roxas threw himself forward, landing on his hands and knees. His fingers balled into fists around the spikes of his blond hair. The clouds cracked open with a fierce thunder clap and the rain began to fall, soaking through the torn holes in his black coat and freezing him to the core.

"I'm s-sorry f-for blaming you, Axel. P-please come back me, this isn't funny anymore. Stop fooling around."

Hoarse coughs erupted deep in Roxas's ribcage, daring the bones to crush the lungs they protected. With every inhale of the dirty city air, a string of splutters and gasps followed. The delirium started to play tricks on him, you're dying, you're dying. The small heap fell on his side, curling up in a puddle of oil and rainwater. The tugging on his sternum ceased slowly and Roxas inhaled violently, sucking in as much air as he could.

Through the roaring wind, the rain and the clicking of his chattering teeth, the voice of an angel bled through. Like sun through the clouds, something began to glow inside Roxas. Shaking violently, he looked up and swore he had finally lost his mind.

Red hair. Thin, nimble fingers. A crooked smirk.

"A-Axel?"

"You okay, kid?"

Roxas blinked, ridding his eyes of tears or rain or whatever the fuck was tricking his vision. A graceful hand gripped his bicep firmly, hoisting him to his feet. With knees like jelly, Roxas kept his balance, holding onto the sleeve of this illusion. He couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I-I ah..." More tears welled up in those sad eyes and Roxas collapsed into the man in front of him, shaking and crying loudly. Strong hands supported his soaked body and Roxas could feel them kneel down to eye level.

Two fingers tilted the nobody's chin up, averting his eyes from the floor. They met the stranger's in a horrified jolt, sending an unpleasant shock down the boy's spine. Roxas's mouth fell open and he reached up to touch the angelic face in front of him in a frenzy. He ran his fingertips over the high cheekbones and the thin, pink lips. He curled the familiar, fiery red hair around his fingers. It almost smelt the same. Everything about him was the essence of Axel.

"No, not Axel." Roxas spoke, his eyes and voice vacant, "Exactly like him though, uncanny."

His voice faded into faint mumbles. When two hands closed around his own, he stopped and his eyes glued back to the two green orbs in front of him. "Who are you?"

"Reno."

Roxas giggled to himself, biting his lip as the rain fell harder. "But you look so much like him."

"Like who?"

"Axel." Roxas let out a shaky breath as he said his name, "H-he's dead."

Breaking down, Roxas dove into Reno's arms. He gripped onto the wet jacket and sobbed, dropping to his knees on the wet asphalt. Reno sighed and wrapped his arm's protectively around the shaken boy, shielding him from the fierce Storm around them. He rocked them back and forth, doing his best to calm him down.

Roxas fidgeted with the Reno's collar, staring with teary, wide eyes. He dared not blink in fear of Reno too disappearing. He began to talk softly to himself, too low for Reno to hear. His voice sounded like a tinkering toy on it's last legs.

"I'm sorry for blaming you."