Author's Note: Well, here you go! The surprise! Someone suggested that I write something along these lines in a review a LONG time ago, and I decided to take that and turn it into reality. So, here's the prologue/epilogue hybrid thing that you've been waiting for!

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Roxas

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It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, somewhere deep within his subconscious. The eyes were wrong, the heat was strange, the hair was different. It was like having a pair of shoes that looked like your own but didn't fit quite right and you know, deep down, that they're not yours. That was exactly the feeling that Roxas had gotten throughout his life. Not only was it the wrong fit, he didn't feel… whole. A piece was always missing. Missing… or already given away.

When he had met Sora, he felt like he had known him for years, and it didn't take long before they confessed that they both shared that feeling. He thought it was right, that it would finally make him feel as though he belonged in the world. They thought it was fate. They thought it was love. But in reality, they were both deceived.

Two years passed in their delusion. They thought they were happy, prying a meaning of life out of meaningless touches, heartless kisses and unfeeling lovemaking. To everyone else, they were the perfect couple. They shared everything, they never fought, they told secrets to each other. To everyone else, they were compatible to the nth degree. Their strengths and weaknesses were complimentary to each other; what one lacked, the other made up for tenfold.

Whether or not it was happiness, Roxas could not tell. It was all he had known. That was true, up until the dreams. They spoke of something deeper, more pure and raw that he had never felt before. For him, they were the most brutally honest, burning and torturous experiences. At first, they were all a jumble of pieces in time. Nothing seemed to flow together, and everything was shrouded by a cloud of confusion and darkness laced with flame. It continued in that way, up until the first dream where he saw who he really was…

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Legs moved when he bid them not to. His eyes blinked, his arms swayed, his head lifted, all against his will. His eyes that were not his own looked out and saw things that he did not understand. He saw a face just like his own, though much more inclined to smile at the smallest trigger. He saw brunet hair more wildly spiked than his own blond that had once existed. He saw… wrongness. It was wrong. Roxas tried to scream, but the lips would not permit him. He tried to claw at the face that was not his own, but the hands did not move. He tried to pry his gaze away from the horror that was looking back at him: his own reflection that did not show his real self, but the body that encased him.

He was forced to look into that face that was not his, that expression that he could not change and that body that he could not control. A heart he could not possess… could not use, could not give away.

It was all for nothing. Why didn't I listen to you, A-

A single tear rolled down the cheek that was not his, and the lips that did not belong to him formed a question with a voice other than his own.

"Why am I crying?"

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Why was he Sora in his dreams? Roxas questioned but got no answers. The visions continued, each one more lucid than the last, each one more horrific. They were laced by darkness, death and shadows. But there was someone, or rather, a nobody, who he could never quite recall. His features were always hidden or blocked from his memory.

There was one, however, who he felt he had some connection to. He was just as deeply embedded into him as the nobody. It was overpowering, how much he was fixated on this one man. He was in the way… he was the one he was searching for… he was the enemy… he was a best friend, lover even… he was one of the darkness and knew answers… he was…

"Riku? Are you sure we haven't met before?" Those were the first words that Roxas had spoken to him. Flowing silver hair that obscured beautiful sea-green eyes… it was just like him in his dreams. For him to be in this world and happen to meet him… to be in the same evening college class as him… it must've been fate, right?

He didn't tell Riku about Sora, and likewise kept it from his boyfriend. It was the first secret that he had kept from Sora, and it became the first time that he questioned their relationship. It was their senior year in high school, Roxas was already taking classes at the community college in addition to his normal school day. Sora was caught up in spending every waking moment while not in class with his friends, who he thought he wouldn't get to see anymore after they split to go to their separate colleges.

With both of them so busy, they hardly found time for each other. And so they began to drift apart, though they would never admit it. The dreams about Riku were increasing in frequency and clarity. Roxas convinced himself that he had been mistaken, that Sora was not the one he was looking for, it was Riku.

They would spend long nights studying for their college class. Roxas didn't care that this person, Riku, was older than him. He was in his dreams; there was nothing more that he needed to question, right?

It started with a kiss – just a taste to see if it was right. Roxas felt nothing, but he forced himself to go on, willing himself to feel as though he were complete. It was a lie, and he knew it deep within his heart, which ached with every touch from those hands. He thought that it was punishment for lying to Sora. Pure stubbornness urged him on, and he continued seeing Riku behind his boyfriend's back.

His actions were illicit, but that feeling was so thrilling to Roxas. They would meet up after class as they had before, pretending that they were studying the material as they used to. Thrilling… that ache in Roxas's chest… he mistook it for feeling. Each time, he felt emptier inside. The sex was far different than anything he had done with Sora. It was harsh and quick, and Roxas enjoyed the feeling of being overpowered by someone more experienced than him. To be used… that was what he thought his purpose had been.

He felt nothing, but he continued lying to himself. He saw that Sora had noticed him change, though he never questioned the blond. He never had before. He had always trusted Roxas. They had been each other's firsts, they had helped each other come out, and after the disaster of Roxas's father catching them in his room, they had worked it out together. But all of their history was not enough to keep them from drifting.

It was just before graduation when Roxas got another kind of dream. One without Sora or Riku.

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He felt nothing in his cold, hollow chest. The endless sunset spread out before him, the twilight bringing little warmth to this small world where he felt some connection. It was where he had been brought after his creation. It was a mystery who he had been, and he was determined to find out exactly who this somebody was.

"Roxas. Have you remembered anything from your other?" That voice… it had said his name, not one of another who he was just the shadow of.

He answered the question truthfully, gaze still upon the glowing horizon, just above that little town. "A few dreams, not much more than that. I don't even know his name. At least you can remember just about everything."

Long fingers ran through brilliantly red hair, spiked and glowing, as if it were made of fire. "Sometimes it's not all that great. I mean- I was another person. Sometimes I can almost feel my other, but he was just lost. I do remember what it felt like to have my heart torn out, though. Believe me; you don't want to have those memories."

"At least it'd be something." Bitterness at what he did not have, but wanted.

"Well, you have memories now, right? You have… you have something."

Arms encasing him, hot breath on his neck, teeth digging into his shoulder… a mass within him moving in and out, tearing cries of ecstasy from his lips. They moved together, fire and light becoming one, the rhythm of their bodies creating the beat that their chests could not produce. Sweat trickled down skin that burned with desire, never wanting to let go of this person who made him feel so… complete.

Emerald green eyes that had seen all the sorrow of the world and yet felt none of their own… tattoos of tears on his cheeks that had never known sadness or joy. But they were eyes that hoped for more. They hoped for a new life, they hoped for completion, they hoped for a heart. "Y-yeah, I guess I do." Lips desperate for more sought his and they melted together into their illicit embrace. A gloved hand began unzipping his coat, and they were lost within each other once more.

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Everything was too bright. Everything was too soft. Everything was too… wrong.

The hands on his body weren't right. His heart thundered in his chest, body reacting to the dream violently, not at all hindered by those hands coaxing him on. His eyes flew open. It was wrong. Silvery hair, those dark eyes, that lustful smile… it wasn't him.

"What the fuck're you doing?" Roxas asked him sharply, surprisingly coherent despite his condition.

Riku didn't wipe the grin off of his face. "Helping you out." He shoved the blond back onto the mattress, moving to climb on top of the hot and aroused Roxas.

"Stop it, Riku," he ground out, effectively shoving the older male off of him. He swung his legs off of the mattress, sitting up and stifling his needy body. He shouldn't be there. He needed to be somewhere else, with someone else… but who was it? Who was that man?

The voice that responded to his spurn was just as cold as his refusal had been. "What's up with you lately?"

"What's up?" Roxas laughed mirthlessly, almost maliciously. "Something that shouldn't be." Not for Riku, not for Sora. Not for anyone but him. The one with burning red hair and enchanting emerald eyes.

I… I'm going back to how I was.

A hand snaked around his waist, caressing him seductively. "I offered to help," Riku's suave voice licked his ear, causing a shudder to run the length of his back. Roxas pulled sharply away from the touch.

"Don't. Just… stop it, Riku." He stood, gathering his clothes that had been shed the night before, hastily and sloppily putting them on. He needed to leave, to escape this cage of wrongness. Something urged him to escape, told him he was trapped.

"Where're you going?" There was harshness to his words that Roxas had not heard before. At least outside of his dreams, he hadn't.

Roxas tugged on a shoe without bothering with socks, favoring a quick escape. "Home, dumbass. I should've been back hours ago." The second shoe was on and he wasted no time, shoving through the door to the apartment renter's bedroom.

"I'll call you, Roxas." He didn't pause, didn't even acknowledge the promise, even though his tone had softened. He left the apartment, knowing that he would never set foot in it again, and did so without regret.

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The final meeting came, not long after his summer vacation began. The dreams had been bombarding him every night since the first. But they were different from his previous ones. He was actually himself, or his former self, rather than Sora. There was one thought - or was it something that he had promised? – that haunted him even in waking.

I'll be waiting.

It was something important, he knew. But he would be waiting for what?

Roxas decided to come clean with Sora, once and for all, about his drifting and the affair with Riku. He figured he owed him, as an ex-lover and best friend. He knew it would be difficult for the both of them, but it was something that Roxas needed to do. Sora wasn't the one. It was the redhead. But what was his name?

He walked the distance from his car to Sora's porch and knocked on the door, stomach dropping when he heard footsteps approaching. What he saw once the door opened was another story entirely.

Those eyes, last seen lusting over him and angry at his spurn, stared down at him in a sort of shocked stupor. The previous sexual partners bore deeply into each other's gazes, questions trying to work their way to their lips and failing every time. What was Riku doing at Sora's house? He had never told the silver-haired son of a bitch about Sora, so why was he at the brunet's door?

The frantic and slightly pissed off voice that echoed from somewhere beyond the partially opened front door told Roxas all he needed to know.

"Riku, I told you not to get the door! I don't know if-" The moment those seemingly innocent sapphire blue eyes spotted the blond on the porch, Roxas knew that Sora was in deep shit, and did he know it. The expression Sora couldn't suppress could only be described as unadulterated dread. Unlike his ex-boyfriend, all Roxas portrayed was pure fury. Riku stood, immobilized by the glare from the blond and was only snapped back to reality when Sora stepped out beyond the threshold to stand protectively in front of him.
He tried to explain the obvious truth, but he knew that it was futile to try to lie to Roxas. "It's not what-"

"Yes, it is," Roxas stated, calm voice sounding so distant and out of place, betraying the fury that burned in his heart. "But it doesn't matter. You're not who I'm waiting for." He addressed both Sora and Riku with the last part.

It was all he could do. Nothing more could have been said to soften the blow. Riku was a two-timing bastard, Sora was as much of a cheater as he was, and Roxas didn't want to have anything more to do with them as long as he lived. His previous life had had enough of them, and he was ready to find the one who he was truly waiting for.

Roxas turned away without another word.

When they felt he was out of earshot, Sora shot a question at the one he had been waiting for, not knowing that Roxas could hear every word. "Do you know him?"

"Never met him," Riku responded coldly.

So that's how it was. Those two were meant to be together. Whenever he was with Riku in his dreams, he had been Sora. It wasn't he who was looking for Riku. In his past life, someone had been looking for Roxas, and he had been running, or searching for something.

He spent the summer alone, and started classes at the university that fall. He felt too guilty leaving his father alone, so he commuted every day to the nearest university that his father had deemed suitable and prestigious enough so that his son might get recognized as a business graduate. It had always been known that he would go into business, no matter how much Roxas detested the idea. But he went along with it, wanting to please his father, and wanting to keep the tuition money flowing.

A year passed and summer came once more, finding Roxas still alone. The dreams hadn't gone away. Rather, they continued. He lived another life when he slept, one that he had no control over, one controlled by a man named DiZ. That dreaded name that haunted him even after he woke and the sweat beading on his brow had long evaporated. DiZ –no- Ansem the Wise. His sworn enemy. His father. The one who he thought he was looking for, in his stupid search for answers. It was a lie. It was a fucking lie. His whole existence had been a lie, never should have been…

That's not true.

The redhead.

The image of that strong, heartless yet so caring and mischievous man was the only thing keeping him from tearing his own chest open and removing that beating heart that felt so intense and out of place. At night, as he touched himself, it was that man who he pictured. He imagined himself surrounded by darkness laced with flames, with those wiry, thin limbs surrounding him, kisses that burned placed all over his skin. He didn't even know his name.

And he felt so alone.

In order to further please his father after deciding that he was going to take the summer off from classes, he agreed to go into an internship. It was easy for him to get in, his father being a major guru of the advising company. To Roxas, it was just another step towards the monotonous life that already seemed to be planned out perfectly for him, regardless of his true wishes. But what he wanted to do with his life had little to do with where he was headed, and he had no say in the matter.

So he began the internship. He stapled papers and bought coffee for Mr. Highwind. Sometimes he delivered papers, which was always the most interesting thing about the job, and even that was mind-numbing.

But then that fateful moment came, when he least expected it.

He had been running late, quite unusual for him, as he had gotten caught up in the café. Four of the top dudes, including Cid had put in an order for their coffee the previous day, so he was especially weighted down. He was rushing past the cubicles when he was quite suddenly intercepted. Coffee arced through the air, papers fluttered to the floor, and Roxas was on the ground.

Roxas immediately leapt into apologies, not wanting to piss off whoever's papers he had just ruined. The guy simply cursed and scrabbled to save the documents that looked a bit more important than the spilled coffee. Roxas joined him a moment after, still spewing apologies. He paused a moment and glanced up at the man whose job he had just compromised and… froze.

He stopped breathing. He stopped thinking. For a moment, he felt as though he had stopped being.

It was him.

Green fury-laden eyes turned to him, and for a moment, Roxas thought he saw the slightest bit of recognition flash across them. In that moment, Roxas remembered the last important detail of his past life that he had grown to accept over the months of being bombarded by the visions.

Axel.

--- The End ---

End Notes: Well, there you go. Over a year of work finally coming to an end. Now go re-read from the beginning and it'll all make a fuck of a lot more sense. Now I get to work on some of my own shit! I have a few akuroku oneshots that I'm working on, but I'm thinking I'll keep my longer writings focused on my own characters. Keep an eye on my fictionpress, I might post some stuff there.

Thank you so much to all of you who stuck with this story until the end! Your support really means a lot to me, and it helped push me to actually finish writing it out. You people rule! You all get special Mansex cookies for that.