but remember from here on in history has its eyes on you

After a year, three months and fourteen days of uneventful existing, something – someone – happens.

Arlene is walking home from her latest part-time job – store’s clerk at some apparel store at the Fourth District, just as unglamorous and frustrating as it sounds – when she sees a man sitting on the sidewalk under a lamppost. Something about this man seems familiar to her – the blue guitar thing he’s strumming certainly is, so is his stupid-looking mullethawk, and his annoyingly nasal voice, and the jets of water spouting around him every time he plays…

“You!”

He yelps and falls backwards onto the cobblestone at her voice, his sitar fumbling out of his hands.  Arlene breaks into giggles at the sight – Demyx’s suffering was always fun to witness, especially when he suffered at her hands. He sits himself up and picks his sitar from the ground, and when his eyes fall on Arlene they widen like saucers.

“You!,” he barks, hugging his sitar close to him. “W-what are you doing here?!”

Arlene smirks and puts a hand on her hip. “I could ask you the same thing, Water Freak.”

“Wow, I sure missed that nickname,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Brings back memories.”

“Of what, the fun times we had?”

“They were fun for you, not me,” he grumbles, standing up and picking up the munny-filled can at his feet. “I still have scars. Anyway, I’m not Demyx anymore, so I guess you don’t need to call me that anymore.”

“I call you whatever I want,” Arlene snorts. “And what do you mean you’re ‘not Demyx’ anymore? You look like the same idiot to me.”

“Gee, thanks,” he mutters. “Anyway, I’m not Demyx anymore, ‘cause I got my heart back!”

Arlene freezes at his words. “You… what?”

“Uh, yeah. I dunno, I just woke up here and next thing I know, my ol’ heart’s thumping in my chest again.” He hits his chest lightly with his fist. “Looks like we didn’t need Kingdom Hearts after all! Heh, and all we had to do was die…”

Not-Demyx’s voice trails off. A lump of unease forms in Arlene’s stomach but she wills herself to shake it off.  “Aw, is that so?” She huffs haughtily. “That’s too bad. You could’ve stayed dead.”

Not-Demyx’s eyes narrow at her. “Ugh, seriously? Would it kill you to be even just a little nice, Larxy?”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?,” Arlene snaps. Sighing sharply, she turns her back to him. “There’s no need to call me that. I’m not Larxene anymore, either.”

“You’re not?”

Instead of answering, she harrumphs and starts to walks away.

“H-Hey! Where are you—who are you now?! C’mon, Larx, don’t leave me hanging!”

Arlene ignores him and keeps walking, until his voice fades away, until she leaves the Fourth District, until she’s back in her apartment.

Reuniting with Demyx was nice, but she hopes never to see him again.

so far away it's no laughing story someday, if i have gone away having fallen into a deep deep forest you must go alone there 

why is it that you loathe us who teeter on the edge of nothing?