Chapter 3, in which shit hits the fan. Enjoy.

Chapter 3 - Twilight

Vanitas stretched his arms, immensely glad that Riku had finished laying out their plans. He'd been sitting in his tree seat for hours on end and his rear end was incredibly sore. "I know. You can stop reminding me. For now, then, we'll…huh?" Some movement in the underbrush to one side caught his attention as one of his Unversed entered the clearing shakily. It dropped into the ground, slid up the side of the tree, and then leapt from the bark into his arms. It was quaking.

Riku stared. "It's… one of yours?"

"Yeah. It is… but…" Vanitas' brow furrowed. Mentally, he prompted it to explain itself and it did, its thoughts scattered. "You what? Chased by something? Well, what was it…?" Again, its thoughts were hard to decipher. "What do you mean, you don't know! Something followed you, and you aren't even…" It concentrated and sent him a mental image. In the middle of its vision, something was outlined thinly in the air, but it blended to the background as though the thing itself didn't exist. "Hmm…"

"Something wrong?"

Vanitas patted it once, mentally thanking it for the work before he returned it to himself. "I can communicate with them in my head, but according to that one, something was cutting him off. …Something is cutting them all off. It said it couldn't see whatever was following it, like it was an invisible creature."

"Do you think it could have been followed?"

He laughed. "Maybe. It'll cause problems for you, then. You better leave. We'll put our plans into action and meet again if a few days time… if we're alive then."

Sitting up in his position, Vanitas was about to jump off his perch and leave when something suddenly emerged from the bushes. Both he and Riku turned to the disturbance and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Standing in the bushes was Ven, clad in a suit of knight's armor.

Vanitas' breath hitched up in his throat, his brain racing around in so many directions that it seemed to forget that it needed air to function.

Riku seemed to regain his composure first, his face scrunching up in surprised anger. "V-Ventus?"

'Ventus?' Looking back and forth between them, Vanitas' head swam. 'I-it can't be… He's… he's really Ven? But… but…' "H…how…?"

Ven's eyes were locked on him, analyzing him from where he stood. "You're… from my dream…"

That snapped him back to reality. 'Dream? The dream… the last time we saw each other…? Then… he doesn't remember me? Ven doesn't remember me.' The anguish built up in his chest, pushing violently at the inside of his ribcage each time his lungs took in air. 'He doesn't remember me. Damn it, I don't have time for him. If he doesn't remember me, I can't waste my time on him.'

He blinked, clearing the haze that had built up in his eyes, and swung his leg over the side of the branch. The entrance to the underground was directly below him, obscured only slightly by the bush. Taking a desperate chance, he dropped himself off the branch, falling straight down into the tunnel. And he fell, gaining speed faster and faster. 'I have to stop. I have to stop now.'

Knowing it was a stupid idea and that it was the only thing he could think of, Vanitas threw his arms and legs out as fast as he could, grabbing onto the ladder as quickly as he could. Thankfully, nothing was broken or twisted, but the pain of his joints being slammed together at that velocity was unimaginable. He was even in too much pain to scream.

He stayed there for what felt like hours, holding on to the ladder with his numb limbs while he tried to catch his breath, his breathing ragged and out of time. His head was spinning so much that it was all he could do to prevent himself from returning to his freefall.

'Why? Why all of this now? Why do I have to kill the Master now? Why did I have to see Ven now? Why, why, why!'

Vanitas gulped air as he fought back against all his pain, but it kept building, eventually spilling over. Not knowing or caring of anyone could hear him, he took a few more wailing gasps before he screamed. His chest was so numb from the physical and emotional pain that he couldn't tell if he was breathing or if his heart was beating. Long-forgotten tears poured from his eyes as his perception of reality crashed down around him.

As the man dropped out of sight, Ven felt his legs unfreeze. He couldn't let the man escape. It would be his only chance to find out what everything meant; their identities, the meaning of the dream…everything. Dropping his helmet, he curled his hands into fists and took off running towards the bush.

"Stop!"

Ven skidded to a halt mere inches from his target and turned his head to stare. Riku was in a state of panic, but he could see in the prince's eyes the immense anger he radiated.

"But-!" Ven piped up, but Riku shook his head.

"That bush is poisoned. You'll be dead before you reach the other side."

Ventus swallowed nervously, glancing back at the bush, which now seemed much more intimidating than before. His shoulders dropped and he felt his knees wobble. 'So much for that. I just… I wanted to talk to him…' Resigning himself to his failure, he returned to retrieve his helmet when the thought struck him. 'Hey, wait. Why is the Prince here?'

Straightening himself up, he noticed suddenly that he was alone, not even the edges of the prince's brown cloak still in sight.

"This," the King instructed Terra on his first day as a member of the Royal Guard, "is my son, Riku. As the eldest of my children, he will also be the one to inherit the throne. It is my wish that the two of you will get along. Now, I have business to attend to, so I've leave you to your introductions."

The King walked off, leaving the eleven-year-old Terra with the prince. From his initial judgment, the boy was tall for someone four years his junior, and his appearance was a stark contrast to his father's, pale skin and a sharp expression. Knowing who he was dealing with, Terra bowed deeply, keeping his eyes closed.

When he looked up, the young prince was looking him over with unaffected apathy, his arms crossed. Terra made sure not to flinch, sure the he was being looked over for signs of weakness. Finally, the prince closed his eyes, shook his head and sighed.

"You're no good," he announced bluntly.

"Huh?" The comment was so sudden that Terra lost all composure and blurted out his confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Can you not comprehend the meaning of those words?"

Terra's insides twisted. The prince was speaking to him as an adult would speak to an ignorant child. 'Who is he to be so condescending for someone younger than me?' He answered the question himself. 'Whether I like him or not, Riku is the prince. He can speak to me however he wants.' "Pardon me for asking, but why do you have that impression of me?"

Riku tilted his head. "Hmm, well, your ignorance is understandable. I have nothing against you personally. I just don't think you're qualified for the job."

"And what qualifications must I meet to revoke that decision?" Terra asked. He was determined to prove himself worthy, and the prince's opinion mattered as much as the king's did.

"None. I don't think you're worthy of any qualifications you have, Keyblade or not."

"You don't think the Keyblade is a qualification in itself?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Yes, Keyblades can be an indication of inner strength, but that isn't the point. If a Keyblade was an indicator, then I would be more qualified for the position than you are, as I have one of my own. Still, you will never be qualified."

"May I ask why?"

"You may, and I'll answer you truthfully. It's because you agree with my father."

This threw Terra for a loop. 'Huh? Because I agree with the King? What kind of reasoning is that? And how does that one thing refute my qualifications?'

Riku cleared his throat. "Answer me this. Why would you fight? Because you're ordered to, or for some other reason?"

"I would fight because it is my duty. I would fight to protect those who are important, not only to me, but to everyone."

"Now, tell me. Who would you fight to accomplish that goal?"

"Anyone who threatens them."

"Anyone? Would you even fight someone you said you would protect?"

Terra's eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"Because. Would you fight someone you didn't know anything about just because they threaten someone you wish to fight for? That's what I want to determine."

"Well… That's a difficult question to answer. It would probably depend on the circumstance."

Riku's eyes narrowed. "Is it? I agree with that. Let me phrase it differently. Would you fight and kill someone because it was required of you? Would you fight a war because my father ordered it?"

"Of course," Terra replied instantly. "The King makes his decisions based on what he believes is for the good of everyone, not only us. If someone threatens the overall good, I will fight to protect and preserve it."

"And that is why you're no good. You're blinding yourself to everything else because you believe my father is correct. You believe that because he is King, and a king can do no wrong. You believe that because you are simple and can't think for yourself. And because you believe that so stubbornly, you will never change. I can't rely on you if you're not prepared to change and think for yourself."

Terra's anger flared. The prince was insulting him and, knowing he couldn't do anything in retaliation, he bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something stupid. He couldn't let himself slip up. Aqua and Ven were relying on him to look after them.

Riku continued. "My father is far from perfect. If you're not prepared to question his orders, you'll let the kingdom and, by extent, the entire world fall into chaos. Not only as prince, but as a member of this world, I can't let simpletons like you decide the fate of this world. A leader is only as strong as the subordinates who follow him, so I can't let someone like you, someone who wields something as powerful as a Keyblade, follow my father without question. As I said before, it's nothing personal."

"And you believe your father is wrong because…?" he couldn't help but ask, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"That…" Riku paused, looking down at his feet for a moment before smiling, "isn't something you should be worried about. He's my father, so he's my problem, understand? I'll take care of things."

The expression on the young prince's face actually sent shivers down Terra's spine. He was smiling, almost confidently, but his eyes were darker than anything he had ever seen. For a split second, he almost seemed like an adult. The second ended, the darkness vanished from his eyes, and the prince was back to his condescending self.

Terra never forgot that moment. It was the moment that distrust formed between them, a deep, impassable rift that neither dared to bridge. It was not a rivalry; just a clashing of ideals. Somehow, Terra's senses told him that they would one day be fighting with more than words.

Terra stampeded through the castle, hastily fighting his way down hallways as he struggled to unlatch his armor. Taking off the heavy, restrictive armor was a process that took time, time he didn't have to spare. He began to curse loudly as he walked and soon all the hallways he walked along were vacant. He had become notorious among the royal staff for his outrageous language whenever his temper was at its worst, though his angry outbursts were few and far between.

As Terra stormed along, he let his armor clatter to the floor behind him, not caring that he had left a trail of mess behind him. There were more important things to attend to than that.

Xion hated living underground.

The main reason she hated the underground was that it dulled her memories of the aboveground, memories of the life she had once lived. She didn't remember much about her life, other than that she had been happy, and that she had once had a family; a father, mother, a younger sister and, vaguely, an older brother. What mattered was that she had been happy, that she had been loved. She didn't feel that anymore.

She didn't remember exactly when she met the Master, but she remembered him taking her away, leading her by the hand into the woods. She remembered the antidote she had taken and the long path down to the underground, and she remembered the sinking feeling in her chest that told her she would never leave.

Xion also hated living underground because most of the time she was alone. She wasn't allowed to leave the Master's house and the staff were too busy to talk, but she didn't mind. Being alone was better than spending time with the Master, and it left her plenty of time to think, especially about her situation.

Then the Master brought in Vanitas. When she first met him, he was a fragile-looking person, seeming as though he would collapse into hysterics if anyone tired to look at him wrong. He was quiet, introverted, and continually avoided contact with anyone for the first few months, but he eventually opened up bit by bit. Xion coaxed him out of his shell and gave him a chance to rediscover himself, and she came more and more to love spending time with him. She could relate to him, talk to him, spend time with him, and with him around, she was allowed to visit aboveground.

As she aged, she found that the presence of these two people in her life created a precarious balance. She began to fall in love with Vanitas and wanted to keep as far away from the Master as possible, but Vanitas was indifferent to everything and the Master made his intentions for her very clear. The Master planned, from the very first day he had taken her underground, to marry her. In the beginning, she had treated it as a game, but as she came to realize her love for her friend, she also realized how sick the Master's idea was. 'He's too old for something like that. He's old enough to be my father. It'll never work.'

However, the Master continued with his plan and Vanitas remained his usual distant self, leaving Xion to rectify the situation. 'If neither man will move, then it's the woman's job to set things right.'

The largest room in the underground mansion was a ballroom, though it was only for show; no one ever used it for its intended purposes. Xion liked it because it used underground ventilation systems for air, giving it a simulated breeze. It made her feel like she was outside when Vanitas was too busy or too tired to take her. She skipped and spun and danced around, letting the cool air touch her skin and dry her shower-wet hair. The room was dimly lit, but there was no furniture in the room, so she never risked crashing into anything.

She stopped when she heard the door open, creaking noisily on it hinges, and her face dissolved into apathy when she saw that it was the Master crossing the marble floor to meet her. 'I was hoping it wasn't him. I don't want to deal with this now.' She kept her eyes on his, the only thing she could see in the pale light that melded his tanned skin to the surrounding darkness.

As he reached her, she curtsied with the hem of her shirt. "Master Xehanort."

He nodded acknowledgement and looked around. "Vanitas is not here?"

"No, Master. He's out on patrol, as you ordered."

This seemed to be the acceptable answer. The Master usually didn't like people reminding him of his orders, but Xion was usually the exception. He grunted. "Good. I've come to speak with you on important matters."

'Here it comes.' "You have my full attention, Master."

"You are aware, of course, of your purpose here?"

"I am."

"Well, that time has come. The time for you to fulfill that purpose."

"I refuse."

The Master did a take. "Pardon?"

Xion steeled herself. "I'm aware of your intentions and politely refuse."

"I'm afraid you'll have to repeat yourself. I don't think I heard you correctly," he said, his voice straining. She could see his face crinkling in contained rage.

"I said no," she answered sternly, trying to sound as brave as possible though her knees were shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm afraid you've made a very poor decision, my dear," the Master said. Though his voice was full of unbridled anger, his tone was scolding. He took a step towards her and she reflexively stepped back, her back bumping up against the wall. Reaching out, he pressed one of his hands against the wall, his Keyblade in the other, effectively cutting off her escape routes. "A very, very poor decision."

"I think you're the one who has made a poor decision."

The Master stopped and turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Vanitas' pale skin stood out in the dark, almost lifeless, but his eyes were molten gold, fiery and dangerous. He walked with a bit of a stagger and Xion wondered absently what had happened before she noticed that his face was more passive that she had tried to make hers. His red and black Keyblade hung loosely in one hand, the eyes on it staring off into space.

"You've made a very bad decision," Vanitas spoke again, his voice raw, "A very, very bad thing to do. You picked the wrong day to get on my nerves. In fact, I'm almost disappointed in your poor planning. I'm starting to get a very negative impression of you."

The Master raised an eyebrow. "It seems my household is full of impudence today. You're crossing a fine line, Vanitas."

Vanitas broke into a wide smile, his eyes wide, making him look as close to insane as anyone could. "Oh, I think you've already crossed it. I've put up with your antics for long enough, and I think she has too." His expression was dead serious again. "You're a sick, perverted old man. The world has no use for a person like you."

"And you think you're the person to stop me?" the Master asked, turning his full attention to his defiant apprentice. "I think you're drunk on illusions of grandeur. Someone of your ability could never defeat someone like me."

With a sharp, fluid movement, the Master crossed the space between them and delivered an upward slash of his Keyblade to Vanitas' chest. Though they ranged in size, shape and design, Xion knew that all Keyblades were incredibly sharp and that direct hits could often be deadly. Her heart skipped a beat as Vanitas staggered back, his blood invisible against his torn shirt.

Much to her surprise, he remained on his feet, and she noticed something else. A trail of moving shadows was extending from Vanitas' feet, shadows that appeared when he was calling upon his Unversed. Xion remained where she was, afraid that any movement on her part might turn to tides of the battle. 'I have to trust that Vanitas knows what he's doing. It'll be alright. I believe in him.'

Vanitas was smiling his crazed smile again. "Of course. In a single-handed battle, I would never stand a chance. But you seem to forget that I have other cards which I have yet to play. You have years of experience behind you, but I believe that there's safety in numbers."

"And you believe that someone will come and save you?" the Master scoffed, moving to close the distance between them again, "That's a foolish idea."

"Not quite," Vanitas smiled, and the wall behind him collapsed in a spray of rock and dust. Xion stared as the dust cleared and a large shape emerged from the giant hole it had formed. It looked like an Unversed, its red eyes taking up most of its head, but it was larger than any one she had seen before. It was black and dark grey, its thin body almost humanoid, its arms and feet accented in red. It held a giant hammer in its hands and looked like it was itching to use it.

"Do you like it?" Vanitas asked, looking like an ant compared to his creation, "It's one of the largest Unversed I've ever created. It's not the first of its class, but it is by far the strongest. I call it…Iron Imprisoner IV. I wouldn't take its power lightly either; it's one of the few powers I don't have full control over." The Unversed behind him flexed its muscles as if to prove his point.

The Master only scoffed. "None of your 'creations', no matter their strength, isn't worth my time. You hide behind your monstrosities because you're weak."

"Monstrosities? You call my creatures monsters?" Vanitas put a hand to his injured chest in mock surprise, "The real monster here is you, and dare to call my creatures - and me - monsters? I'm offended. In fact, I'm beyond offended; I'm appalled. But, you know…" he smirked, "That's better for me. My Unversed are powered by emotions. The more you fuel my emotions…"

As he trailed off, a cage erupted from the ground beneath the Master, its bars encased in fire. The flaming bars were too close together to allow escape, but Vanitas didn't waste a second, not letting the old man even contemplate escaping.

"…the stronger my Unversed become. Goodbye."

With a slight wave of his hand, the Unversed hefted its hammer over its hand and brought it down with full force on the cage. Nowhere else to go, the cage absorbed back into the ground. Its occupant, however, was trapped.

Instantly, the room was coated in human bits, blood and insides splattered across the walls in all directions. Xion remained in her place in horror, too shocked to move. On the other side of the room, Vanitas was absorbing his Unversed back into his body, laughing like a lunatic. With the blood splashed across his face, he really did look like he was insane.

Riku's favorite room was his father's office. The inside of the office was the coziest place imaginable, filled to the brim with so much furniture and so many books that it would make his head spin any time he went in. Over the years, the confusion surrounding it died off, but he never lost his love for the place. He loved to sit in his father's office and read. The chairs were so padded that he sank into them when he sat down, which only added to the fun.

A lot of the books were things his father used as reference, and Riku was told many times that a boy his age shouldn't be reading such complicated things, that he would be better off reading beginner books like other children his age. Riku hated people who told him that. He hated being treated like a child. He was more mature than someone twice his age and so, at five, he deemed that the books in his father's office were no problem.

He spent a lot of time in that office with his father. Both enjoyed each other's company and neither wanted to hang around the rest of their home for long. Riku's mother had died two years before from a disease that had run rampant across the kingdom. They were both trying to run away from the memory of losing her, and so they spent their time together, wrapped up in various things.

Recently, however, that had changed. Riku had lost one of his younger sisters, taken almost directly from his side, and nothing had been done about it. No one had looked for her, no one had bothered to protect her, and Riku developed a deep animosity towards his father. He felt that something should have been done, and that it was his father's responsibility to do it.

The first morning he returned to his father's office, a week or so after the incident, he found that his father wasn't there. 'He must be in the bathroom or something…' As per his usual routine, Riku walked around, checking to see if anything had been moved. The staff were allowed inside to clean, but they usually moved things to places they shouldn't be in. So, Riku made it his job to help his scatterbrained father and put things back in their proper places.

Walking around, he finally came to his father's massive desk, a large table of the darkest wood with draws and cabinets around all of its sides. It was a strange desk, often requiring his father to get up to get things in draws on the other sides, but he loved it, sometimes assisting his father by fetching things from its confines. Something about it, on that particular day, was different. Sprawled across the desktop was a large map of the kingdom, a giant disfigured shape drawn on it. There were notes scribbled around its borders in his father's writing.

Standing on his father's chair in his socks, Riku leaned over the map and began reading, his eyes picking up all of the details and memorizing them. From what he absorbed, the squiggles on the map were the outline of an underground city that had been established years ago. It residents were kept there by the placement of a poisonous bush at its entrance, the name of the plant ringing a bell in his mind that told him it was the most deadly of all poisonous plants. He continued reading over the notes, memorizing the location of the entrance and other facts he found interesting.

"Riku, what are you doing?"

Riku looked up at the sound of his father's voice. He was standing in the doorway, looking at his son with a tight expression.

"Looking at this map," he answered, staring as his father walked in.

The King took the map and rolled it up. "You shouldn't be reading things like that."

"Is there really an underground city?" Riku asked, pulling his shoes back on before hopping off the chair. "Why haven't we heard of them before?"

"That's not important. You shouldn't have read it."

"But if there are people there, how do they live in those conditions? Wouldn't it be nearly impossible?"

His father sighed. "Sometimes you're too observant for your own good, Riku. Yes, the people who live there have problems living in those conditions, but-"

"Then why don't we help them?"

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Those people are beyond help. They're not like us. They don't have someone ruling over them that cares about them. Besides, they've all adjusted to their conditions. It would be pointless to change their lives."

Riku stared at his father. "That's wrong."

"What is?"

"You always say that people don't pick the conditions they live in and, often times, they can change their lives for the better if they're given the chance. Now you're just reneging on that."

"This isn't the same, Riku. They can't be helped."

"Why not?"

"Because."

The young boy's anger flared. "That's not an answer. It's an excuse."

"You're too young to understand!" his father snapped back. His loud reply echoed in the room once before it was swallowed by the surfaces around them. A blanket of silence enveloped them, both too stubborn to admit their faults. Finally, the king broke the silence. "Go play with your sister."

Riku thought about refusing, but he had a better idea of what to do with the information he discovered. 'If my father won't do anything, I'll take matters into my own hands. Maybe not yet, but eventually. Eventually… I'll show him just how wrong he is.' Walking to the door, he stopped, holding onto the doorframe. "I should be going to play with my sisters."

"Now!"

Riku dashed off into the hallway. He never entered his father's office again.

Standing outside the door to his father's office, Riku stared at the door, taking deep breaths. 'There's no going back. Once I go inside, I will never come back. This self that I've lived up to until now will die. Whether I live to create another me is an entirely different story.' Steeling his nerves, he pushed the door open and went inside.

The interior of the office was just as he remembered it, messes of books and papers strewn about in an orderly confusion that he knew only his father could pick his way through. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, but he fought against it, remembering his task. His father was seated in one of the office chairs, but not the one at the desk, sitting with his back to the door. It didn't seem like he had heard the door, but Riku thought otherwise.

"Father?"

"Come in, Riku," his father answered in a quiet voice, a mixture of happiness and sorrow evident in it, "It's been a long time since we were last in here together."

"I know."

"A lot has happened over the years, hasn't it? I was just reflecting on all of it."

"That's… probably not any good for you," Riku muttered, trying in vain to force back the doubt and regret boiling up in his heart. "You shouldn't focus too much on it."

"I can't help that. I really can't. I can't help but feel that I've failed you, all three of you. I've failed as a father, both to my kingdom and to my own children."

Riku's heart twisted to the point that he felt like he would gag, but he forced himself onward. He summoned his Keyblade and held it up, pointing it at the back of his father's head. In a strained voice, he continued. "Then you need to receive the punishment for your failures."

Riku watched his father turn in his chair to look at him, his face calm. Their expressions were matching outwardly, but he could tell from his father's eyes that the man was in as much inward pain as he was. His resolve faltered for a moment, but it returned when his father's eyes widened in shock and he felt something press against his back.

The tempest inside him died down. "I thought I was clear about this. You're an inconvenience. Stay out of my way, Captain."

"I recall what you said," Terra breathed, "And I recall something else. You told me that my top priority is the protection of the King, and that's what I'm doing. I'm only following your wise directions, right?"

"You have nothing to do with this."

"As long as you insist on pointing your Keyblade at the King, I have everything to do with this. I know you're not an idiot, but this is by far the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Let it go," the Captain growled.

Riku felt himself smile as he lowered his Keyblade… and promptly spun around, pointing it at Terra. "I thought you weren't a stranger to stupidity. I guess I was wrong, because you clearly can't see the difference."

"Difference between what? All I see in front of me is a traitorous lunatic."

"Then you are both blind and dumb."

The King stood up. "Both of you lower your weapons. Now!"

"I can't do that," Riku replied, not taking his eyes off his opponent, "and as long as I don't, neither will he."

Terra smiled. "Whether you can or can't, I'll make you."

Without needing another word, the both lunged at each other. From what Riku knew, he would be fighting a losing battle. While he had his size and speed on his side, one hit from Terra's heavy Keyblade fueled by his excessive muscles would be devastating. Terra swung at his head and Riku ducked under it, feeling the sharp metal slice through the air. He twisted and aimed his own strike, but it only served to scratch Terra's arm, his larger opponent throwing his mass forward to pull himself out of the way. They both stumbled back to regain their balance before moving into strike again.

Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he could tell his father was yelling for them to stop, but he wasn't listening. He kept ducking out of the way of all Terra's attack, trying to tire him out, though the strategy didn't seem to work. Terra was a master of himself, knowing how to put enough power in his attacks without wasting energy. Riku's tactic only served to make himself tired, as dodging Terra's attacks was easier said than done.

Eventually, Terra caught him, slicing up the side of his arm. The wound instantly became masked in blood, but Riku ignored it, too caught up in fighting back to feel the pain. He retaliated, slicing up across Terra's chest, but the wound wasn't deep enough to be more than an annoyance. Before he had time to recover, Riku attacked again, but Terra angled himself out of the way, grabbing him by the back of his shirt to throw him at a wall.

Riku hit the wall with a resounding thud, collapsing against the floor to catch his breath. 'I can't keep this up. If I don't stop him now and stop him fast, I won't be able to move, let alone defend myself. It's now or never.'

Taking in as much air as he could, he waiting until Terra was above him, Keyblade held over his head to land a finishing blow. As the blade came swinging down, Riku pushed his legs out from under him, letting him roll out of the way. He came out of the roll and spun on his heel, dragging his Keyblade as deeply as he could across Terra's back. It left a huge gash that spewed blood and Terra roared in pain. Unfortunately, Riku's balance was off and he barely managed to scramble to his feet as Terra launched his counterattack.

With no chance to dodge, Riku made a deadly mistake and tried to block. Terra's upward slash knocked the Keyblade from his hands, sending it spiraling through the air until it embedded itself in a wall. The force sent Riku stumbling again, but Terra continued. Holding his Keyblade ahead of him, the larger man charged with his weapon as a lance, aimed directly at his chest. Riku felt the sharp blade cut into his skin and-

When the adrenaline stopped pouring through his system, Vanitas stopped laughing and took in the scene of destruction around him. He felt the blood rolling its way down his face, saw the human insides and outsides splattered around the room, and the sickening smell of it all assailed his nostrils. Seeing the horror he had wrought, he could only stare in disbelief. 'What have I done…?'

He suddenly lost all sense of himself, losing all control of his body. He dropped to his knees, his head spinning in circles as he tried to find a way out of his acts, justifying them in some way, but he came up with nothing. He had killed, and he had loved every second of it. He was terrified of himself, he realized, terrified of the monster that he had become, and there was nothing he could do to undo it.

It took him a while to get back to himself, but when he returned to reality, he found that Xion had crossed the floor to him and was wiping the blood off his face, cleaning her hands on the back of her shirt. "Xion… I…"

"Not another word," she ordered, sounding much more sure of herself than he did, "Everything will be alright."

He managed to shake his head, pulling himself away from her touch. "It's not alright! I… I killed him… I… I actually killed someone…"

"And? He deserved it. It was for the good of everyone."

"I don't see that."

"Why not?"

"It wasn't good for me," he muttered weakly.

To his surprise, she giggled. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she lifted his gaze to meet hers, and he noticed the blood still splash across her face. "I think it was. It was good for you. He never cared about you."

"I know he didn't. No one did."

"That's a lie."

Vanitas finally managed to meet her eyes and saw deep within them a tenderness he had never seen in anyone before. Though he could still see the traces of shock and fear in them, the tenderness overpowered all of them, blocking them out like the sun blocked out the stars. It was blinding him to what he was familiar with, but he was too mesmerized to look away.

"Vanitas, the idea that no one ever cared about you is a lie. That's because… I care about you. I… I love you, and I always have. I've always thought about you, keeping you first in my mind. I love you for who you are, no matter how you are. I love all of you; from the wounded, tortured soul to maniacal monstrous person you have the ability to become. I love looking into your eyes when you talk to me and seeing all the emotions locked inside of you. I wouldn't change you for the world."

He managed a smirk. "I thought you said I reminded you of a cat."

"You do," she laughed, "the softest, sweetest cat I've ever met."

"You know that I'm no good for you," he said, taking her hands off his face. He didn't let go, holding them in his own and staring at them. "I'm not the kind of person who can love again. I'm too… damaged for that. My heart has more scars than my body."

"Then I'll mend those scars."

He looked up and met her eyes again, their faces only inches apart. Somehow, her scent overpowered the blood and gloom around them diminished more and more the longer he stared.

"I think," he whispered, bringing his face closer to hers, "I'm willing to give it a shot."

When their lips met, Vanitas felt all his worries melt away. Instantly, there was nothing but him and her, only the feeling of their lips pressed together, only the sound of their breathing, only the feel of her fingers curling into his hair. In that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to be with her, and her wishes reciprocated that feeling.

Without realizing it, his hands had slid around to her back and, in one fluid movement, without disturbing their kiss, he pulled her into his lap. Her hold on him adjusted as well, moving down his neck to his shoulders. They drew closer and closer together, savoring each other's presence until something in the back of his mind decided that their clothes were in the way. From there, the worst day ever turned into the best night of his life.