"You're The Real One."
Vanitas remembered the first time he saw Ven after they were separated. It had been approximately a week. The boy was been bound, and wrapped in a thin fabric, most likely a sheet, from the lounge. Vanitas remembered the excitement of running up to the boy, and introducing himself. "Hey! I'm Vanitas. You're Ventus aren't you?" The confusion set in quicker than the excitement. He turned to Master Xehanort, promptly tugging at the man's coat.
"Why isn't he responding?" The Master doesn't respond for some time. When he does respond it's nothing, but a quick shrug. Vanitas pressed his lips together, and turned back to Ven. He wasn't waking up from his sleep. Ven look like a doll. Motionless.
Master Xehanort wasn't very happy with that. The man did not treat Ventus with the least bit of care that first day, he manhandled the comatose blonde with irritation clearly displayed on is face.Vanitas remembered sneaking up to the loaf to keep Ven company. He would reach up to pet the cheek of the boy with careful precision.
But then stop just, before he made contact.
The boy, Ven, looked so broken, and weak in that bundle of white. The boy was off colour. His skin was grey with blue undertones. He looked rough. Almost undead with that cool hue to his skin. Dead and alone. The worst possible combination. Just as Vanitas got the courage to walk away; he felt sharp, protruding, pain course through him. Vanitas shook Ventus, waiting for a response. Did he feel too?
"Hey!" Vanitas exclaimed worriedly, "Hey! Wake up!" Was his other half going to die? If Ven died, what would happen to Vanitas? This was his body! If his body died Would it be lost forever? Vanitas grits his teeth, raising his hand back, Vanitas prepared to strike the boy awake. Before the hit could actually connect to the youth's soft face, his hand is away from the stilled blonde. Vanitas looks up, and sees his master. The man is mildly irritated. He doesn't speak, only observes Vanitas' interesting (to say the least) behaviour.
"What will happen to him Master?" Vanitas queries. The man patted the boy dutifully on the shoulder, before turning toward Ventus once more. "What are you planning to do with him?" Vanitas follows the man downstairs. where a wind blows the castle doors slightly ajar.
"I will give him a proper place to die. At my homelands Destiny Islands, I expect this place cleaned for my return." Vanitas opens his mouth to say something, but the man waves his hand and walks straight through the dark void that appears. "Be good." Vanitas's legs buckle, and he holds his hand out in desperation.
"Wait, take me with you!" No one responded, and the void of darkness closed before Vanitas could jump through.
The masked boy screams in frustration.
The windows are wiped.
The foyer is dusted.
The sheets are washed.
And the kitchen is cleared up.
Vanitas takes in the view of his handy work with pride. The floor was so clean. That Vanitas could see his reflection! The masked boy curiously leaned down and touched the floor right where his mask was. With no hesitation the boy pulls the mask off, and is greeted with a hellish sight.
He screams, and turns around to greet the monster behind him--- There is no monster to greet. Vanitas turns back to his reflection, in horror. His eyes weren't crystal blue like Ven's, his skin wasn't soft and leathery like Ven's, he didn't have a nose like Ven, he didn't have hair like Ven... He wasn't like Ven.
That made him angry.
A familiar emotion bubbled forth, but Vanitas ignored it long enough to put the helmet back on, and explore the rooms upstairs, which for the most part Vanitas had stayed clear of. Instead awaiting his Master's return by the foyer. The boy was curious, as to what was upstairs though. When he walked up the stairs they creaked underneath his weight. He looked up at the childishness of Ven's chamber door just down the corridor. The door was styled with decorative embellishments spelling V- E - N.
Vanitas opened the door and was quickly greeted by small trinkets and other items. With one over sized bed pushed into the corner. A chest and a dresser were all adjacent to the bed and a small, colorful yet overly fluffy rug greeted Vanitas by the door. The boy walks to the bed, he lays down on it's soft cushioning. Maybe because he's curious as to what it felt like, or he was just tired.
Either way, Vanitas quickly falls asleep.
He wakes up to extreme pain. The type of pain, you don't wish on anyone. It's a gut wrenching pain, that makes Vanitas scream in agony. Was this what dying felt like? If so, does this mean Ven is dead? The question leaves a foul taste on Vanitas's tongue. His face burned, like fire had just been thrown on his face. It burned so badly that Vanitas had to grip his mask and throw it across the room. It lands with a solid thump.
Vanitas runs to the restroom and leans over the sink to study his reflection. It takes several seconds to take the humanoid face into account. That unfamiliar feeling comes back. Vanitas grips the basin in rage. It was a face, just not his face.
"Is this a joke?" Vanitas' voice wavers. Disgusted by his facial features, He smashes the mirror over, and over again watching as his knuckles ooze red blood. He can't control this awkward tendency to hurt something. "That's not my face!" Vanitas cries out. He holds his head in his hands, and he remains like this, until he hears the sound of his Master calling him.
Vanitas is quick to jump to his feet and rush down the flight of creaky and otherwise broken stairs. It was almost like a sense of Dejá vū to the youth. A vague image of Ventus rushing downstairs to greet Master Xehanort after a long day replayed in his mind.
These aren't 'his' memories... These are mine.
"Master? Your back!" Vanitas chirped, only to lose his zest when Ventus' glazed over eyes flickered over to him. The boy looks between the two, back and forth, back an forth. "Master, why is he still...Still... Alive?" Master Xehanort reluctantly reroutes his eyes to Vanitas. He looks at the boy's new form. Taking in the darkened hair, sharp jawline and most striking of amber eyes. The man sighs through his nose, as he drags his finger across the surface of the walls. He found no dust.
"Looks like he isn't going to die. isn't that great?" The man sounds apathetic. Vanitas can feel his heart drop to his stomach, his eyes narrow at the bundle of white, and tuff of blonde hair. Something inside of him shattered and died. He let's that unfimiliar emotion fuel him. He channels it into energy, and summons his Keyblade Wayward Wind.
Vanitas brings an attack down on the defenseless boy without any mercy. Master Xehanort blocks the attack. It doesn't deal any damage that could be fatal. Xehanirt lectures Vanitas, his glare is sharp. "What is going through your head boy?"
"Move!" Vanitas commanded. The man does not move. He refuses to. This only prompts Vanitas to revolt against his master further, he turns the blade toward Xehanort with an ugly expression of betrayal etched on his face. "Now! Move right now! I'm going to kill him myself" When the man doesn't budge Vanitas released a spur of uproarious rage. It grew and formed into a large creature. It grew and grew, until even even Vanitas backs away from his creation in fear. I made that?
The first personification of Vanitas' negative emotions is rage. Unburdened, unrestrained, pure---- Rage.
Xehanort makes quick work of the creature, it turns into dust and every drop of rage that embodied it's being flows back to it's orgin. Vanitas. The boy withers in pain, gripping the sides of his head in confusion, as a new spur of anger flows directly out of him. The boy attempts to raise his Keyblade once again, but the elderly Master pats Vanitas on the head. It was cynical, and unwarm, but it was enough to pull Vanitas from whatever trance he was in. The grip on Vanitas' blade grows limp. The master kneels to Vanitas's eye level. The boy looks away.
Master is mad with you again.
He leans down and meets you eye to eye. His weighted golden glare ushers you into silence. He knows you're lying, you're grip on your arm increases until you nails draw blood, even then you refuse to let go.
"Why fight him now? When he's weak, and when the time has come. You two will battle... But only when the time has come." The man sighs and waves his hand to dismiss the teen. "Take the neophyte to his room, and return to the training hall. I will teach you of these abilities you possess," Xehanort grumbles aloud, his voice sounding like rolling thunder.
Vanitas wants to argue, but he cautiously reminds himself not to. The youth takes Ven's hand in his own, yanking the boy's hand a little too hard, and pushing the boy too aggressively, as he helps him up the stairs. He is Disgusting. Weak. You're superior in everyway. Master obviously thinks having Ven around will be a nuisance. The pest must have woken up right when he was about to die. He won't abandon you, you're the real one.
You're the real one.
Vanitas sets the boy down on the boy, making sure Ven wouldn't fall off the bed and hurt himself if he accidentally passed out, or something happened where he tumbled off the bed, as Vanitas turns to leave a hand latches onto his wrist. The boy snarls and hears Ven whisper something underneath voice, in a monosyllabic way, and rushed way.
"What?" Vanitas hissed out. The boy struggles with his words, he gasps and pauses between them like it was painful to speak. "What is it!" The boy yells. Ventus can barely make out a small word, the weakness he expresses was profound in a way. How can something be so weak? Put it out of it's misery! Save master the shame!
Vanitas was about to indulge in his wants, but then the boy finally says what he needs to. "I'm... I'm sorry... Vani...Vanitas." The amber eyed youth is stunned by the apology, and comes to his senses. "I'm...Sorry," Ven repeats again. This apology calms the rage for now, and Vanitas affectionately rubs Ven's hair.
"Go to sleep." He can see the light return to Ventus's eyes, before disappearing.
Vanitas meets his Master as he promises. The training room in cold and uncleansed. It's so filthy that even simple movement makes the dust bunnies scatter. He hopes they aren't here long --- or hearts forbid they actually train.
"Vanitas, " Xehanort breathes out, his eyes shut and relaxed. When Vanitas stops approaching the older man, that was when the man decided to open his eyes dramatically. The man stares at the boy for a while before circling him.
"Master?" He questions silently.
"The helmet Vanitas." The youth lets his hands reluctantly curl around the helmet, he lets the helmet hang on his hip. Dark hair pours out of the helmet and Vanitas scowls, Master Xehanort is almost astonished by the boy's appearance. Suddenly he withdrew his hand, as if the boy was too poisonous to touch.
"Those things... I... I don't know what they were Master... But I do know that I can summon a Keyblade, like I used to before... I was split in half." Master Xehanort wipes his glove off on his pants. This brusies Vanitas's ego, which makes him even more bitter.
"First things first, do you know what the X- blade is?"