Roxas doesn't know what he's most flummoxed by: that Axel is inexplicably younger, that he doesn't recognize him, or that he's calling him Ven.

"It's...it's called Olympia," he says. "And I din't—wait a minute, what are you even talking about? I'm not Ven. I'm Roxas."

He holds his breath, waiting for some sign of recognition even though part of him knows it probably won't come. Please, please don't have forgotten me.