Every member of the Original Organization, yes. (As for apologizing himself, Xemnas persisted in thinking that confessing to Roxas was a good start. As upsetting as the admission was, being with the blond made repenting less difficult. For now, he would have to put that on hold.) I may honour the last memory I have of him instead.
(Did he deserve forgiveness after the damage that he'd wrought on his life and that of his friends?
It wasn't up to him to pass judgment on his sinful actions. It had always been easier to craft an image of cold villainy; Xemnas did use people like pawns on a chessboard, to be moved around at will, in the past. He was very skilled in reading emotions in facial expressions, and therefore better at utilizing them to further his ends.
All the conflicting emotions that had been raging through him in the wake of coming back from the dead -- the fear that he might be eliminated balanced by the hope that he wasn't, the need to stay by Roxas' side balanced by the need to part ways; they were all drowned out by the optimistic message the boy shared. Not to mention the unspeakable flutter in his chest as Roxas didn't pull away -- his hands cradling either side of his face in a very tender gesture.
His eyes kept coming back to that redness blooming across his cheeks. It was not obvious, but not as subtle as he'd like either. If granting him the undivided focus of his attention elicited such a reaction from him, Xemnas would have to give him some space. Too much was standing between them, and it wasn't safe to breach the invisible barrier that separated them from one another. Still, despite himself, part of him felt upset at letting go of Roxas. As the Superior gently rubbed a thumb across his cheek and relinquished his face, a pang of something akin to frustration bent his heart in all sort of twists.)
Allow me another question, then. (His voice softened, warmed up by their exchange.) Why is it that the hearts are scarred with the vagaries of life? Even the bond of friendship may fail to palliate that, no matter how strong it is.
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(Did he deserve forgiveness after the damage that he'd wrought on his life and that of his friends?
It wasn't up to him to pass judgment on his sinful actions. It had always been easier to craft an image of cold villainy; Xemnas did use people like pawns on a chessboard, to be moved around at will, in the past. He was very skilled in reading emotions in facial expressions, and therefore better at utilizing them to further his ends.
All the conflicting emotions that had been raging through him in the wake of coming back from the dead -- the fear that he might be eliminated balanced by the hope that he wasn't, the need to stay by Roxas' side balanced by the need to part ways; they were all drowned out by the optimistic message the boy shared. Not to mention the unspeakable flutter in his chest as Roxas didn't pull away -- his hands cradling either side of his face in a very tender gesture.
His eyes kept coming back to that redness blooming across his cheeks. It was not obvious, but not as subtle as he'd like either. If granting him the undivided focus of his attention elicited such a reaction from him, Xemnas would have to give him some space. Too much was standing between them, and it wasn't safe to breach the invisible barrier that separated them from one another. Still, despite himself, part of him felt upset at letting go of Roxas. As the Superior gently rubbed a thumb across his cheek and relinquished his face, a pang of something akin to frustration bent his heart in all sort of twists.)
Allow me another question, then. (His voice softened, warmed up by their exchange.) Why is it that the hearts are scarred with the vagaries of life? Even the bond of friendship may fail to palliate that, no matter how strong it is.