[111] Learn
Jun. 27th, 2007 10:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleChallenge: [111] Learn
Title: In Transit
Word Count: 574, ouch.
Notes: Apprentice-fic, so I guess it's kind of guarunteed (I can never spell that word right) to be spoilery. One F-word, no pairings... and I'm rusty. Seriously, I hardly write anything anymore, but I wanted to write SOMETHING, so hey! Ehh, I couldn't get it exactly right. :]
On the night they find him collapsed outside the castle, Xehanort doesn't remember who he is.
Braig watches- for once, silent- as Elaeus and Dilan escort (well, more like drag) the young man back into shelter under Ansem's orders (but it's not like they would've just left him out there, anyway), watches the way his tattered feet don't seem to understand the pattern of moving forward, how they stumble and slide along slicked cobblestone instead.
It's pouring.
Braig looks to their teacher, but the man is busy squinting up into the night.
-
The next day, in the hospital ward, Xehanort has to be taught how to hold his fork and spoon. It takes a couple of minutes for someone (Elaeus, he thinks- Braig never has been too good with the details) to notice that the utensils placed in front of their patient haven't made contact with the food yet, and that the young man is staring dazedly (partly as a side effect of the medication, he's sure) at them instead.
Elaeus looks up, the rest of them look up, and whatever's left of Xehanort's composure crumbles into vague embarassment at the mass of eyes suddenly fixed on him and his loss for what to do.
Braig breaks the silence, "Don't tell me you need to be spoonfed, too, kid," and Dilan snorts and Xehanort looks down, quickly, and his gaze isn't as blank and his cheeks have gone red.
-
"He has no recollection of a life before this one," Ansem says. He sighs.
It's been months now, since they found him, and Xehanort still carries nothing with him but his name. He's smart, though- very smart- and takes in everything his new master and the apprentices have to offer.
Even is skeptical; "Will you use him in the experiments, sir?" but Braig can also sense a hunger there, a curiosity slightly-more-insatiable-than-usual for Even and a hint of something else (cold darkness anger nothing resentment?) in his voice.
He doesn't like the way Even's been talking lately, the way he's suddenly taken an interest in Xehanort "All I want is to get my memories back" "Well, maybe we can find them for you" when there's been nothing but petty chastisments and flippant dismissals before. Typical of him, but even so...
"He's volunteered to become a test subject already, and perhaps we'll be able to learn something, in addition to extracting the memories from his heart."
"Fuck, Even. He's not a goddamned specimen."
The fair-haired scientist purses his lips, regards Braig cooly, but ultimately chooses to say nothing and turns back towards Ansem the Wise. The man appears not to have noticed their little exchange, however; he's furrowed his eyebrows, and looks like he's deep in thought.
"Maybe he can teach us something," he finally says.
-
There is no uncovering of memories. Secrets remain buried, Darkness comes, Darkness takes, Darkness goes, and Xigbar almost gets the urge to laugh when he remembers that, once, he was a student, and he thinks of the unnaturalness behind Xemnas' eyes.
"So," he begins, a wry smile etched into his features. The scar along the side of his face crinkles up with the movement, and he tosses a bullet into midair from where he and Xaldin are perched atop a castle ledge. A mindless spell suspends it. Lukewarm, yellow moonlight bathes the metal shell as it spins.
"What'd we learn, anyway?"
Xaldin glances at him, then snorts.
Title: In Transit
Word Count: 574, ouch.
Notes: Apprentice-fic, so I guess it's kind of guarunteed (I can never spell that word right) to be spoilery. One F-word, no pairings... and I'm rusty. Seriously, I hardly write anything anymore, but I wanted to write SOMETHING, so hey! Ehh, I couldn't get it exactly right. :]
On the night they find him collapsed outside the castle, Xehanort doesn't remember who he is.
Braig watches- for once, silent- as Elaeus and Dilan escort (well, more like drag) the young man back into shelter under Ansem's orders (but it's not like they would've just left him out there, anyway), watches the way his tattered feet don't seem to understand the pattern of moving forward, how they stumble and slide along slicked cobblestone instead.
It's pouring.
Braig looks to their teacher, but the man is busy squinting up into the night.
-
The next day, in the hospital ward, Xehanort has to be taught how to hold his fork and spoon. It takes a couple of minutes for someone (Elaeus, he thinks- Braig never has been too good with the details) to notice that the utensils placed in front of their patient haven't made contact with the food yet, and that the young man is staring dazedly (partly as a side effect of the medication, he's sure) at them instead.
Elaeus looks up, the rest of them look up, and whatever's left of Xehanort's composure crumbles into vague embarassment at the mass of eyes suddenly fixed on him and his loss for what to do.
Braig breaks the silence, "Don't tell me you need to be spoonfed, too, kid," and Dilan snorts and Xehanort looks down, quickly, and his gaze isn't as blank and his cheeks have gone red.
-
"He has no recollection of a life before this one," Ansem says. He sighs.
It's been months now, since they found him, and Xehanort still carries nothing with him but his name. He's smart, though- very smart- and takes in everything his new master and the apprentices have to offer.
Even is skeptical; "Will you use him in the experiments, sir?" but Braig can also sense a hunger there, a curiosity slightly-more-insatiable-than-usual for Even and a hint of something else (cold darkness anger nothing resentment?) in his voice.
He doesn't like the way Even's been talking lately, the way he's suddenly taken an interest in Xehanort "All I want is to get my memories back" "Well, maybe we can find them for you" when there's been nothing but petty chastisments and flippant dismissals before. Typical of him, but even so...
"He's volunteered to become a test subject already, and perhaps we'll be able to learn something, in addition to extracting the memories from his heart."
"Fuck, Even. He's not a goddamned specimen."
The fair-haired scientist purses his lips, regards Braig cooly, but ultimately chooses to say nothing and turns back towards Ansem the Wise. The man appears not to have noticed their little exchange, however; he's furrowed his eyebrows, and looks like he's deep in thought.
"Maybe he can teach us something," he finally says.
-
There is no uncovering of memories. Secrets remain buried, Darkness comes, Darkness takes, Darkness goes, and Xigbar almost gets the urge to laugh when he remembers that, once, he was a student, and he thinks of the unnaturalness behind Xemnas' eyes.
"So," he begins, a wry smile etched into his features. The scar along the side of his face crinkles up with the movement, and he tosses a bullet into midair from where he and Xaldin are perched atop a castle ledge. A mindless spell suspends it. Lukewarm, yellow moonlight bathes the metal shell as it spins.
"What'd we learn, anyway?"
Xaldin glances at him, then snorts.
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 04:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 05:26 am (UTC)and i really AM rusty, butthank you very much!no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 05:27 am (UTC)thanks!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 04:45 am (UTC)That ending is wonderful. WIN.
And the image of Xehanort needing to be spoonfed makes me grin.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 05:00 am (UTC)and amnesiac!xehanort just makes me grin, period. and so does braig. so, you know. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 08:05 am (UTC)