Set in an alternative universe of Kingdom Hearts. Don't like? Don't read.

PARALLEL story to Incandescent Hearts, which features narration by Axel, and is a Larxel.

In regards to the name, given that in the games, Aqua is a being of pure Light, therefore positive, and Vanitas one of Darkness, therefore negative, they are polar opposites, like the two sides of a magnet, positive and negative. Yeah... so there you go.

Disclaimer: I don't own KH, but god, Vanitas makes me want to.

Magnetic Hearts

push and pull of opposition;

he'll ruin her, she can fix him

001. give me the bad news

I'm sitting here, across the room from them, gritting my teeth to keep from losing my temper. I feel like punching something (his face) or throwing something (at him). The only thing stopping me is the fact that she wouldn't approve. The fact that she'd probably get really mad. The fact that I'd see that awful painful look in her eyes directed at me, and not him, which is where it should be.

But watching him twist his fingers through her blue hair, leaning far too close into her personal space is really really making me think it's worth it.

He's an asshole. A total prick. And several other pretty colourful things I'd like to call him, but can't, because, well, you don't really want to hear them, do you?

You'd probably prefer it if I told you just what the hell is going, wouldn't you? Why I'm sitting across from my best friend and her boyfriend, watching him run his hands all over her, and trying not to hurl. Or punch him. Or walk over there and shake her until she realizes that I'm the one who should be—

Ahem. Sorry.

Well, see, the problem with telling you about the mess I've gotten myself into, is that it doesn't start here and now. If I start here, you'll be just as frustrated as I am. But, y'know, with me, and not pretty boy Fair over there. So, I guess I'll take you back to when it did start, and go from there.

At least it'll keep my mind off trying to strangle the life out of him.

I was six at the time.

Just some dumb kid who spent his time outdoors, at the park behind our neighbourhood, instead of at home, playing video games or whatever it was other kids my age did. I'd like to tell you it was because I loved the outdoors. I'd like to tell you it was because I wanted to make friends.

Except that I hated bugs, and animals, and people in general. And I zero interest in making friends, because that would run the risk of their mothers asking just where my parents were. No, that missing ingredient was why I was always out of the house (see: absent father).

But that's not why we're focusing on this particular trip to the park, is it? No, we're here to witness little six year old me, in all his anti-social glory, somehow befriend the single most amazing girl in the whole world. And tell her I said that, and you're dead.

The park was just about the only one in about in a ten mile radius, so not only was it pretty damn big, with a handful of brightly coloured jungle gyms (seriously, whatever happened to those classic wooden ones that gave you splinters and had tire swings?), but was also filled with kids, running and screaming and playing.

I've already established that even at the age of six, I wasn't very fond of people (something which really hasn't changed), and they seemed fine with that, because really¸ what kind of parents would let their kids around some scrawny runt like me? Unkempt black hair, hollow golden eyes, and clothes that were either too old or too big, making me look like I'd wandered in off the street.

Whatever they thought was irrelevant to me, because it let me roam on my own, undisturbed, to the jungle gym at the furthest point of the park. It was the oldest, not shiny and new like most of the others, and creaked a lot of the time, rust coating its hinges. It also happened to be my favourite. Most of the monkey bars were actually slightly discoloured from constant use by yours truly, and today, I was headed to make them worse.

It tended to keep me calm when I was focused on swinging from one bar to the next. So calm and focused, I never saw them approach. If I had, I might've heard them talking about the rusty bar at the end of the set, the one that was looser now, because last weekend, one of them had thought removing the bolt would be hilarious. And so, because I was an idiot, when I placed all my weight on it, it snapped loose and I fell right on my ass, the bar digging into the sand beside me, just barely missing my face.

And that's when they started laughing.

I could feel the fury already building in my chest as one of them approached, wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes. It would later find out he'd been the asshole to remove the bolt. "What a loser," he wheezed, looking down at me. "You actually fell for it!" Another peal of laughter burst from his mouth, and he turned away, unable to look at me without laughing. The other kids—all boys, and older, by the looks of it—had gathered around me now, and were smiling.

"What's the matter? Hit your head?" another boy asked, looming above me, his shoulders broad and lips pulled into a smirk. A throbbing had started in my head, and I tried to concentrate on getting rid of it by sheer willpower instead of answering him. His brows knit into a frown and he stepped forward, nudging me in the ribs with his shoe. Okay, more like kicking, but whatever. "I asked you a question, runt."

Runt. It was my first nickname, if you didn't count the flurry of words dad hurled at me when he was home. And judging by the sudden spike of anger in my chest, and how my hands curled into fists, I was going to make sure it was certainly the last time he used it.

"Oh, the runt looks angry," he snickered, standing his ground as I pushed myself to my feet, eyes narrowed at him.

Okay, second-last time.

"Seifer, I don't think he appreciated our trick, y'know?" the kid who'd been unable to stop laughing spoke up, glancing my way with beady eyes before he was off again. He was so going to get punched next.

"Angry," another kid spoke, this time to my left, and as my eyes flickered that way, I noticed I'd made a mistake earlier by counting them all as guys. But she looked enough like one that I really didn't give a shit.

"Is he now?" The closest boy—Seifer, the one who'd called me a runt—stepped forward, in my face, sneering. "What's the matter, kid? You dumb or something?"

I really didn't mean for my fist to connect with my face. I swear. It just...happened. Yeah. Accidentally. Let's go with that.

And that's about when the rest of them kicked in. Literally.

But you don't want to hear about me getting my ass kicked. You wanted to hear about the girl, didn't you? So let's fast-forward a split lip, cracked rib and beginnings of a black eye later, to the part where the yelling starts.

Not the yelling at me, from Seifer and his gang of losers. Not the yelling of worried parents coming to stop the bullshit, either, because they planned that, making sure we were on the far side, where it was harder to them beat the crap out of me.

Instead, it's the yelling of the kids who pushed their way into the circle, getting those assholes away from me, letting me breathe—which effing hurt, by the way. I remember gritting my teeth against the pain, but worse, I remember wanting to groan because those were, in fact, girl voices telling Seifer and his losers to back off.

"What the hell do you jerks think you're doing?" a girl hissed, all venom. And no, she's certainly not the girl we're looking for, with her straight blonde hair with these weird up-ended bangs. But remember her anyway, because later, she'll be important. Beside her, there was a guy—at least, I figured he was, judging by the clothes and the voice I could barely hear, threatening Seifer, but it was a little hard to tell with the mane of red hair he had. Remember him, too, okay? Moving on.

The one we're really here for, however, is the girl that kneeled down next to me at that point, audibly fussing over the fact that I probably looked like crap. Not that I cared at that point, because I was humiliated just knowing girls (and okay, a guy) had saved me. I mean, really? Did it get more pathetic than that?

"Oh, gosh, you're hurt," she gasped, and I turned away, refusing to look at her. "A-are you okay?"

I huffed, tugging on my arm, wincing at the pain it caused in my ribs. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." I felt her reach forward, and decided to stop her before she made an idiot of herself. Or me.

"Look, I don't need—" I don't remember what it was I thought I didn't need, because as soon as I turned towards her, ready to tear into her for saving my life (how stupid was I, really?), I pretty much lost all capacity to think about anything other than the beautiful creature before me.

Her hair was short, blue and framed her face, and I wanted to touch it so bad, because it looked so soft. Not as soft as her creamy skin, though, which I felt when she reached out, cautiously, touching the lump beneath my right eye. My eyes, which were dull and golden and haunting, while hers...

Oh god, her eyes. They were captivating. And blue. So blue. Like oceans of the clearest water, of such a beautiful, bright, shade that it would make the sky jealous even on its clearest day. They're still my favourite part of her today. Which I will never admit, so don't even think of telling her... seriously though, we're back to you being dead if she finds out.

Anyway, where were we? Oh, right. Me becoming speechless for the first time in my life. Awesome.

"Are you okay?" I really should've said something. At least given her some sort of impression that I wasn't stupid. But all I could do was stare, and she smiled warmly, leaning closer. "My name's Aqua." She seemed to think it might help me open up, and stop staring at her like a moron. Thank god it worked.

"Vanitas."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." I probably should've been watching my mouth and all, being around a girl, but given that I didn't really have experience with talking to people, those kinds of courtesies failed me. Which was fine by me, because it made her laugh. Her laugh instantly became one of my favourite sounds.

"They were awful boys, weren't they?" she cooed, using the handkerchief she'd pulled from her sweater pocket to wipe my lip. I didn't even care that I was being coddled by a girl. Seriously. Thought never crossed my mind; it was so absorbed by her.

At least, not until I realized she was speaking to me in the tone most parents use for little kids. The one that older kids use for younger kids. I wanted to bang my head against something for not realizing it sooner. I mean, she was taller, and looked a bit older, like her friends, but I hadn't thought, well...it was stupid of me. Moving on.

She seemed to notice my scowl, because she frowned. "What's wrong?"

"You're treating me like a kid," I growled, pulling away from her. "I'm not a kid."

"You look like one," she said, biting her lip. I'd find out years later that this was something she did while teasing me, and god if it's not frustrating in the future. And yes, I do mean in that way.

"So do you."

"I'm eight!"

"Your point? I'm six."

"I'm sorry." She laughed again, and I barely remembered to be angry about her calling me a kid. "Why did they hurt you?"

I shrugged, wincing as my ribs stung. "People suck. Lesson learned."

"Not everyone," she said, eyes downcast.

"True enough, I guess. You and your friends did save me." Not that I was ever going to admit that again, mind you.

"Your friends should've done so," she frowned, and I saw how her blue eyes regarding the surrounding area, looking for people who didn't exist. I sighed, shaking my head.

"If I had any, they might."

Her eyes widened, and I heard the little intake a breath indicating her surprise. And then her hand touched my knee, as if she needed the contact to make sure I was real. That this poor, scrawny kid she'd just saved from bullies at the park wasn't, in fact, something she'd dreamt of. Not that I wanted her to be dreaming of me or anything. At least, not yet anyway. Not for a few more years, when it actually started to matter. "You don't...," she faltered, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she hesitated¸ suddenly realizing it might be rude to ask.

"No, I don't."

It took her a split second to come up with a solution. And with it came a brilliant smile. "Would you like one?"

I wasn't a fan of them. Didn't really want any. But she made me want to find out what it was like. I nodded, and her smile brightened. "Forever?"

"Isn't that a really long time?"

"Well, if you don't want to..."

"No! I mean, yes, I do!" I exclaimed, and she laughed again.

"Good. Forever then." It was my turn to laugh—or at least, to try, because god if it didn't hurt. She seemed to notice and reached forward, pointing at my shirt. "You are hurt." She raised an eyebrow, inquisitive. "Can I check?"

"Knock yourself out," I shrugged, wincing again. God, I really needed to stop being so stupid. She lifted the edge of my shirt, and I swung an arm to cover my eyes, groaning. "Give me the bad news."

She giggled, tapping me on the arm. "Stop being so dramatic."

"Aqua!" She turned to see her friend—the blonde girl, with the weird bangs—standing closer, motioning for her to go to them. When her blue eyes found mine again, they looked a little sad.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Is that something friends would do?" When she nodded, I gave a little shrug, trying not to seem too excited, even if on the inside, my heart was pounding against my chest. "Okay."

Her smile was practically radiating sunshine off her face. She stood, brushing the sand from her jeans, and waved down at me as she stepped away. "Goodbye, Vanitas. See you tomorrow!"

As I watched her walk away with the other two, I wondered just how much trouble I'd get into if by some miracle dad came home and found me not there. Because I was planning on staying here the whole day and into tomorrow, just to make sure that when Aqua returned, I was here, waiting.

I figured my bed would be more comfortable than the sand, especially to heal whatever shit that jerk Seifer and his friends had done, so I trudged home, thinking only of returning and talking with Aqua again.

If only I'd known then that choosing the sand would've been a much better idea.

Oh, Vanitas, you hopeless romantic you, even at six years old. He's got quite the temper, doesn't he? Eh, well, get used to it, because he's a rather disagreeable young man—except with Aqua, of course.

Okay, so, not exactly how I planned to end it, because they just didn't stop talking. I hope the narration style wasn't too confusing. I'm trying something new here, and I kind of like it, so I'm hoping you guys do too.

I like italics. They help me illustrate Van's frustrations with just about everything.

If you're a little confused about the beginning, well, he's watching Aqua and her current boyfriend in a rather, um, close, situation, and there is a single hint as to who it is. Catch it, because we won't see him for quite a while, until the story comes full circle back to that scene. He's a dick in this story, so if you know who it is, don't get too excited.

Yes, that was in fact Seifer, accompanied by Fuu and Rai, easy to pick out because of speech patterns. I needed a bully, and because he is essentially that to Roxas and his friends in Twilight Town in KH2, he became what I needed here. It is the only time you'll see him.

Cookies to whoever figures out who the two friends Aqua was with at the park. It's kind of a funny story about why they're all friends, really, and in my head-canon, it makes perfect sense of course. But more on that later, when Vanitas actually befriends them. (If you're also reading the parallel to this story, Incandescent Hearts, then you'll already know.)

Look forward to more Vanitas and Aqua in the next instalment,

002. welcome to wayward house

Also, as mentioned in Incandescent Hearts, I'd like to take some suggestions for last names for the cast. I've been thinking perhaps either basing them on their keyblades and main weapon names, or on more latin words (like Aqua, Terra, Ven and Van's names). Thoughts?