Demyx leaned against the wall of the castle corridor, plucking idly at his sitar with the enthusiasm of someone pretending they were definitely not supposed to be doing something important. A soft, lazy melody echoed through the hall, making it feel more like a beach day than a meeting of the most fearsome Nobodies in existence. He glanced left, then right, half-expecting Xigbar to pop up and remind him — again — that slacking off wasn’t in his job description.

"Y’know, for a guy with no heart, I’ve sure got a lot of stress," Demyx muttered to himself, strumming a few more notes. "Maybe if I just play something soothing, they’ll forget I’m supposed to be out on a mission. Water clones count as progress, right?"

The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his (perfectly reasonable) daydream of quitting this whole Organization gig to become a full-time musician. He straightened up, attempting to look as if he’d been doing anything productive. “Oh, hey! You’re here too? Perfect timing! How about we, uh, go grab a snack or something? This whole ‘fighting for the fate of the universe’ thing can wait five more minutes, right?” He flashed a grin, one that said he was hoping for backup in the art of procrastination.