[For Roxas]

[1st_class_zack]

It was just another day of the life on Tabula Rasa. Zack had woken up at daybreak and done some squats. Some was more accurately described as hundreds, but he hadn't been counting. At least not after three hundred.

Today a nice swim in the ocean sounded good. He'd left most of his clothes on the beach and even left the Buster Sword propped against a tree in the sand. Strife, having only ever lived on Tabula Rasa, had no fear of the beach or the waves on the beach. So he followed Zack exuberantly into the water.

After a few laps, he felt refreshed, fully awake and ready for breakfast! The two headed back to shore and out of the sea onto the dry sand that stuck to Zack's skin and Strife's coat.

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[oblivions-oath.livejournal.com]

Roxas had also taken to rising early. Not as early as Zack, though hearing him move through the hut made a good wake-up call; he tended to wake to the sound, but stay in his cot a little longer, working up the will to get out of bed.

When he'd been in the Organization, Roxas hadn't really had a training regimen. They'd just thrown him a black coat and told him to go plow through some heartless until he'd worn himself out. Every day, or what passed for daytime in a world of endless night, "day" in and "day" out. Now that he was on an island with no missions, he found himself continually trying to find through ways to burn through the excess energy.

He didn't miss a lot of things about being back in that world. Mostly his friends and that was out of his control. What frustrated him was his lack of powers and the emptiness in his hands when he wished for the reassuring weight of his keyblades. He found himself thinking that as he wandered out and saw Zack's sword propped up against the tree. He'd seen that sword in memories, belonging to Cloud, and he envied it for being there when his weapons were nowhere to be seen.

Curiously, impulsively, Roxas walked over and wrapped his right hand around the hilt, testing its grip.