Why?

He was always there for me. Even in my darkest hours, he'd be there; a shoulder to cry on; a person to trust. He was my best friend. Nothing could ever change that. I asked him why. Why could nothing change it? He just laughed.

"Because best friends don't tear apart," He answered with pure confidence. I smiled softly and offered him a sea-salt ice cream – a small tready to the beginning of our best friendship. We sat up there, on the clock tower, staring at the sun setting calmly. I remember that first sunset together. We barely spoke, but we didn't need to mess up the silence. Just each others company was good enough.

When I turned ten, Axel had offered to take me to his secret hide-out. A special place. I allowed him to lead me out of my house during the night. We crossed black streets and dim streetlights, but finally we came to the clock tower.

"I've already been here before, Axel," I said to him. He shook his head and shushed me, taking me up onto the clock tower and telling me to sit down. I did as told, and as he sat next to me, we both turned at once to the moon. It gleamed brighter than I thought possible, and seemed close enough for me to reach out and touch.

"Happy birthday, Rox." He said softly, taking one of my hands into his. The manner came in such a friendly manner that I couldn't help but squeeze his hand in mine. We both glanced at each other; smiles lingering onto our lips, before we turned back to the moon. It was just as good as the sunset.

One night I lied in bed. Tears were staining my cheeks with harsh forces. I remember hugging onto my pillow, crying; wailing into the fabric. That's when Axel crawled into my room, like he always does. He saw me crying. I felt ashamed to be crying in front of my best friend, and half of me expected him to rudely ask what the hell was wrong with me. It surprised me when he actually crawled into the bed, right next to me, and wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head onto his chest, my sobs taming themselves gradually. His hand began stroking my hair.

"Why?" I whispered; voice hoarse and barely audible. But he heard. I could tell. "Why is the darkness so scary?"

"The darkness isn't that scary when you think about it," Axel said, "it's the same as daytime, but you can't see anything."

"But it's so frightening... why?"

"People think because they can't see something, they should be afraid of it. Don't tell me you're afraid of a small, pathetic room of darkness," I caught onto the sarcastic tone and glanced up, catching the smirk on his face. I flushed a little.

"I am not afraid of darkness!" I pouted. He laughed quietly.

"I thought you said you were."

"Did not! See, I feel better now," I crossed my arms over my chest, and what I said was true. The darkness didn't seem so scary now. Not with Axel here. I knew Axel always had something about him – something that scared the bad things away. I loved that about him.

At age fifteen, I knew Axel dropped out of school. Once I went over to his apartment room.

"Axel..." I started as we both settled in the living room. He had been sleeping for hours, and wasn't too keen on talking just when he woke up. But Axel and I have been friends ever since we were little kids. He wouldn't mind talking to me. "you shouldn't drop out of school-"

"Oh, so this is what it's about?" I immediately caught onto the angry tone in his voice. Fear began to pulse through my body. I have never had Axel angry at me. I've seen him pissed at other people – it's not a pretty sight.

"Axel, just listen to me-"

"No. Get out."

"Why?"

He hesitated for a moment; his lucid green eyes locked onto the ground. "Get out, Roxas."

"Axel-"

"Get out!" I jumped at the outraged tone. He was on his feet in seconds; giving me a glare that I wish I had never seen. They held hatred. They held death. I wanted to cry at the sight, but I wasn't a little kid anymore. I couldn't cry every time I felt scared.

I knew I wouldn't win a battle against Axel. Odds were I'd get hurt. Physically as much as mentally. So I left. And as soon as my foot left the room, he slammed the door to my back.

When I got back to my place, I did something I hadn't done in four years.

I cried.

"Why...?" I cried to myself, hugging myself in my bed. My parents weren't home. I had the house to myself. And I reflected on how Axel used to treat me. He was so nice. He acted so loving. "Why, Axel...?"

A year later I got a phone call.

On August 13th, I walked up to the cemetery. Dressed in all black, and holding a few burnt, red roses, I headed towards the group of people. Not a lot of people showed up, but the ones who did were close to Axel. His parents; his few friends; and a priest. We all stood close to the coffin. It began to rain – something Axel never did quite like. Demyx had brought an umbrella, and he had offered to let me stand under the umbrella with him and Zexion. I declined as politely as my will could.

The priest droned on, but finally the funeral was over. By then I was soaking wet. Axel's parents offered to drive me home. I shook my head in a forlorn state, and they sent me pity looks before leaving. Demyx and Zexion were next to go – waving half-heartedly at me before walking down the street. Axel's enemy – one I would never even think would attend the funeral – sent me a pitied look as well. Xigbar was always a strange man – even if he acted like a bastard. He could be nice too.

Now I'm standing alone. I stand in front of the grounded earth. Tears mistaken as raindrops stream down my face as I drop the roses onto the earth.

"Why?" I whisper, sending a look up to the sky. "Why would you leave, Axel?"

A/N: -Sniffles- I don't know why I wrote this, to be honest. I was supposed to go to sleep an hour ago, but as I was lying down, I was listening to "Promise Me" and "Trapped" by Dead by April, and "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie. And then I just started crying. I mean, wailing. But, of course, I'm too quiet to cry that badly.

So this story is dedicated to anybody who's lost someone special. I know I was thinking of my dad before I wrote this. Nah, he ain't dead, but it feels like I haven't seen him in years. D; I miss him.

Reviews are the tissues to my tears~