A/N: Oh man, this is crazy late. The start of this year crippled me mentally and I nearly died at work (lol) but I'm OKAY. I also went backpacking across the USA for 6 weeks which was ah-mazing. Vegas and New Orleans defeated me, the Virginia countryside took my breath away. I also fell in love with San Francisco and surprisingly really enjoyed Coachella. I am gonna try REALLY hard to just bang the last two chapters of this out so don't worry about this being abandoned (if anyone's even still hanging out for this orz), I promise I'll be completing it. ALSO, there is a lot of dialogue in this chapter, cause they need to sort their shit out. Ha


Chapter Four.

So unexpectedly lost and alone in his childhood, Ventus finding a friend in Vanitas proved to be one of the best things that could ever have happened to him. With a bit of encouragement, he slowly came completely out of his shell and, although the opportunity was there, he never felt a need to make friends with anyone else. As the years passed them by, it was always just him and Vanitas, facing off against the entire world. Vanitas proved himself to be a bad influence and troublesome at times, and didn't take well to rules, but he always had Ventus' back, no matter what the situation, and Ventus was all too happy to have someone in his life that genuinely seemed to care about him. He eventually learned Vanitas had never had parents of his own, the couple that looked after him simply tolerating him so as to keep collecting their government-issued welfare cheques for supposedly 'raising and caring for him'. Ventus, for his part, rarely ever saw his own father anymore, but he told himself he didn't care. Like Vanitas had said to him that day they'd first become friends, he didn't need his father at all – he only needed Van.

When Ventus had turned 15, things suddenly changed. Seemingly out of the blue, his father remarried, and his new wife fell pregnant shortly after. Always formal and straight to the point when dealing with him, his father had wasted no time in convincing Ventus it would be for the best if he moved into an apartment all on his own. Lost for words, Ventus had thought of nothing at the time but to agree.

His new 'home' was a tiny studio apartment on the opposite side of town from his father's residence, equipped only with the bare essentials for him to live by. No television, no refrigerator – just a small, second-hand microwave, sitting lonely on the kitchenette beside the sink. His father had instructed that he would have an allowance for food and rent deposited into his bank account on the first of every month, and with those parting words, Ventus had packed two boxes-worth of his belongings and had been ushered into one of his father's chauffeur-driven cars. His father had not waited to wave him off – had been quick to disappear inside again, and Ventus was left watching the door to his old home close shut with something like finality, his nose pressed against the glass of the passenger-side window.

Now, sitting with his back pressed against a wall in his new apartment, his few possessions in their boxes still situated neatly by the front door where the driver of the car had left them, Ventus couldn't fight his tears anymore – couldn't believe the lie he constantly told himself. The loneliness of his situation crashed over him, the realisation – that his father had finally succeeded in getting rid of him. It was years' worth of unshed tears that ran down his face, his broken sobs echoing in the emptiness all around him, and for the first time in the longest time, all he wanted was his mother. Somewhere, in amongst all his jumbled thoughts, he briefly remembered he'd been supposed to meet up with Vanitas tonight like he always did, but as the sun set and the tiny room slowly darkened, Ventus realised Vanitas wouldn't even know to find him here. They didn't have mobile phones, they'd always known they were never too far away from each other, but now… he was well and truly all alone. He didn't think his tears would ever stop falling, sitting there motionless in the dark, choking on his own sobs.

And that's how Vanitas had found him.

The front door banged open some hours later, Vanitas striding in like he owned the place; sharp, bare lighting from the hallway outside throwing his silhouette across the floor.

"Hey, cool! You got your own place!" Vanitas said excitedly, spotting Ventus against the far wall and already making his way over. He quickly flung the door closed behind him, the room once again swallowed up by the gloom. "I went around to yours and – "

His excitement short-lived, Vanitas had stopped dead, right in front of Ventus' outstretched legs.

"Hey. Are you… crying?"

Ventus kept staring at the wall opposite him, his tears still staining his cheeks.

"Van…"

Vanitas just stood there, silent, the darkness hiding his face. Ventus slowly rolled his head back to look up at him.

"He… didn't need me... but I needed him."

Shuddering in a breath, Ventus looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling as his grief and misery eclipsed all else.

"And now... Now...!"

He hadn't seen Vanitas move, but all of a sudden there were familiar arms around him, pulling him in close.

"And now you've got me." Vanitas finished for him, one of his hands soothingly sliding up and down Ventus' back while he held him tighter still. "You don't need him, Ventus. All you need is me." His voice was warm and low in Ventus' ear and Ventus shakily slid his arms around Vanitas' waist, the two of them curled up together against the wall. There was silence for a few moments, Ventus pushing his face into the crook of Vanitas' neck as his tears fell anew, soaking slowly into Vanitas' school shirt.

Vanitas had sighed quietly, but not in a nasty way. Gently, he began running his fingers through Ventus' unruly hair.

"Don't cry over him, Ven. He's not worth it."

Ventus just wearily shook his head, his exhaustion catching up to him as he sunk further into Vanitas' embrace. Settling them more comfortably, Vanitas rested his chin on top of Ventus' head, one of his hands still combing through his hair and massaging along his nape.

"If it helps, you're the only one I need too. So… forget that asshole. Alright?"

His mind blissfully falling blank, Ventus had allowed himself to drift off, finally finding some semblance of peace, cradled in Vanitas' arms.

Later that same evening, Ventus awoke to find himself lying flat on his back, spread out on the apartment's unforgiving, hardwood floor. The only light illuminating the gloom was from the minimal splash of faded orange fluorescence just outside the room's windows; faint sounds of the wind blowing outside and other people going about their lives on the streets below just managing to reach him.

"You're awake," said Vanitas to the left of him, and Ventus had started slightly, his memory of the afternoon only just returning.

"…What time is it?" He had asked hoarsely, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Doesn't matter." Vanitas murmured in return, his head gently bumping against Ventus'. It was only then that Ventus realised that Vanitas was lying on the floor beside him, their shoulders almost touching.

Groaning, his body stiff, Ventus rolled onto his side, trying to make out Vanitas' features in the dark. He watched Vanitas roll onto his side too, the dim light just catching his eyes. As Ventus lay there silently observing him, his emotions still curiously detached, Vanitas had raised one of his hands and placed it lightly against Ventus' cheek.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Ventus felt the warmth of Vanitas' palm seep into his frozen skin, long fingers just brushing along the ends of his hair. He swallowed thickly, his heartbeat fluttering in his chest. He glanced upwards and met Vanitas' eyes, their noses almost touching as his mind briefly registered how close they currently were to each other – of how intimate this position really was. He cleared his throat nervously.

"S-Sorta…" He whispered, feeling Vanitas' breath ghost over his lips. For once, he was thankful of the darkness. If Vanitas could see the colour of his face right now, or worse yet, read it in his expression, he was more than sure he would have been in trouble. Although he'd had time to come to terms with how much his feelings for Vanitas had changed, never had he considered acting on them, not when suggesting they become something more to each other could possibly mean jeopardising their long-held friendship. He didn't think he'd ever be prepared to lose what they had by taking such a risk, but sometimes, when Vanitas looked at him, he couldn't help but wonder...

Ventus' inner turmoil unbeknownst to him, Vanitas gave him a small smile and very slowly removed his hand, the rough pads of his fingers sliding along Ventus' jawline. Ventus just managed to stop himself from shivering.

"Come on, then," Vanitas said with more feeling. "Let's go throw rocks at cars – that always cheers you up."

It took a moment to register what Vanitas had actually said before Ventus unexpectedly burst out laughing. He rolled over onto his back again, holding his stomach as the empty room filled with his laughter. He didn't especially like throwing rocks at cars, but he knew for a fact that Vanitas loved it. All the same, he appreciated the sentiment; it was Vanitas' way of trying to cheer him up. The other boy obviously didn't realise, but even just having him here now when he'd woken up already had Ventus feeling a lot better.

Sobering, Ventus turned his head to the side to look at Vanitas again, giving him a slight, but genuine smile.

"Thanks… for being my friend, Van. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Still lying on his side facing him, Vanitas didn't say anything, his expression unreadable as he slowly studied Ventus' face. He seemed to be considering something, and whatever it was, it was making Ventus nervous. As he watched, Vanitas frowned at him before finally looking away. He rolled onto his back as well, his eyes locked on the ceiling. There was a pregnant pause as Ventus heard Vanitas huff out an irritated breath, his next words mumbled and unclear.

"I don't… want to be your friend."

Ventus blinked, his heart freezing in place. Had he… heard that right?

"…What… What did you say?"

Vanitas still wouldn't look at him.

"I said, I don't just want to be your friend. I can't. Not anymore."

Still sore and stiff from sleeping on the floor, Ventus shakily pushed himself up into a seated position. He felt panic well in his chest, his throat closing over his words.

"W-What are you – !?"

Moving faster than him, the fierceness in his eyes catching in the dim light, Vanitas sat up too before grabbing the back of Ventus' neck and pulling him forwards.

Ventus squeaked as their lips met, his eyes fluttering closed on instinct, Vanitas tilting his head and slanting his mouth ever so slightly over his before hungrily pushing more into it.

When Vanitas finally pulled away, Ventus was left stunned and breathless, Vanitas' hand still resting on the back of his neck. He could clearly see Vanitas' face in the dark now, his eyes having adjusted, and Vanitas looked serious, but uncertain, his expression torn.

"It's not enough anymore…" He whispered onto Ventus' lips, gently pushing him to lay back down.

They were kissing again and Ventus was hesitantly participating, his pulse thrumming in his ears, his heart all but singing. He'd wanted this… for so long now, he kind of thought he might be dreaming. But Vanitas' weight was settled on top of him and his hands were sliding through his hair, their lips pressing and tasting, tongues cautiously exploring. Never, had he considered this a real possibility. He'd always known how much Vanitas depended on him as a friend, but to be offered something more – something as perfect as this, was truly mind-blowing. He slid his hands around Vanitas' shoulders, his fingers pressing down along the indents of his spine. Vanitas arched into his touch and Ventus thrilled to feel it against him. This was all so new to him and already he knew he was addicted – this desperation to touch someone – this kind of hunger.

" Ven…" Vanitas whispered, panting quietly. "I want all of you. I want you to… only look at me." He leaned down and kissed him again and Ventus eagerly melted into it.

"It's only ever been you…" Ventus breathed, but Vanitas still looked unsure.

"I don't want to… ruin what we have, but… I can't help wanting you this way."

Still breathless, Ventus gave him a reassuring smile, his eyes soft with emotion.

"It's okay. I've wanted you too."

Vanitas smiled down at him like Ventus had just given him the world. He fondly brushed Ventus' bangs away from his eyes.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner? You're always leaving the first move up to me."

Suddenly on the spot, Ventus looked away and feigned annoyance, but nothing could stifle the grin on his face.

"I'm shy, alright?"

Vanitas laughed and swooped again, kissing Ventus like it was his new favourite thing. Ventus had to agree. It was fast becoming a favourite of his, as well.

"Can I… call you my boyfriend then?" Vanitas quietly asked after some time, rolling them to the side and pulling Ventus towards him. They now lay chest to chest, no space left between them.

Ventus grinned, bumping their foreheads together. He slung his arm over Vanitas' shoulders, fingers playing lightly with his hair.

"Do you even need to ask?"

Vanitas laughed and lightly squeezed Ventus' waist. "Damn, I never thought I'd be this happy…"

Ventus just couldn't stop grinning. This new intimacy that had always lingered between them – this new stage in their relationship that only felt right, made him feel like he was ready to take on any challenge that life threw at him and win. Finally, he held real hope that he could forget all of the bad stuff, just so long as Vanitas always stayed by his side.

"Me neither," he whispered, pressing their lips together once more. Vanitas kissed him sweetly, only too happy to comply.

-0-

Ventus was lost.

After Vanitas had left him on his own and disappeared further into the depths of the yacht's interior, he'd stood there motionless, his mind falling carefully blank. The ensuing silence had seemed to press in on him, the gentle lull of the yacht rising and falling with the ocean causing him to sway slightly in place. Somehow, he'd managed to move on autopilot then, easily locating the separate bedroom Vanitas had mentioned to him. His fingers trembled around the door's handle as he opened it quietly and stepped inside. Without much thought he engaged the lock.

He couldn't be sure of the time now, but he'd sat on the edge of the bed for what seemed like hours, his hands resting neatly in his lap as he stared down at them, unseeing. It was dark outside, he knew that much at least, and still the silence almost made his ears ache with it, the shock of what had just transpired finally lifting, guilt and torment left in its wake.

He hadn't meant it – of course he hadn't, and yet, he'd still managed to speak those four hurtful words, and now he was left alone here, feeling sick to his stomach and scared that he'd just ruined one of the best things he'd ever had in his life – again. Every fibre of his being was all but screaming at him to somehow fix this, to just face the truth and accept that Vanitas was right… about so many things, and Ventus knew… He hadn't been able to be honest either... for too many years now, and the sheer guilt of that thought alone was only now threatening to be the end of him.

Ventus wasn't sure of when he'd fallen backwards, but that was where he was now, arms splayed across the bed as he stared defeatedly up at the ceiling. With nothing to distract him, it wasn't hard to fall into the trap of thinking over everything he had enjoyed with Vanitas today, most damningly of how… carefree and happy the both of them had been together. Yes, he hadn't had anything to do with Vanitas for years, but to see him acting just like his old self had been so surprising it had completely caught him off guard. He'd almost forgotten they'd ever spent any time apart. What was six years of disconnect when he felt like he hadn't ever laughed like he had today in all that time since they had gone their separate ways? It had been… wonderful… and it was painful just thinking about it.

He remembered a time when things had been simpler, when they would curl up together in his cruddy, tiny apartment on a single futon to keep warm, Vanitas reeking of cheap cigarettes but holding him close and just carding his fingers through Ventus' hair. They would often talk about the future, a better one, of all the things they would achieve together, or so Ventus had believed they would, and he missed that, damn it. Missed that easy comfort between them. Felt almost robbed of it with the way their lives had diverged into such drastically different directions.

He'd worked so hard over the years to forget, to get on with his life and just put it all behind him. He'd tried to fill the emptiness Vanitas had left him with by preoccupying himself with other people – with his work, with his father, but, ultimately, without Vanitas...

It was always going to feel meaningless. And that right there, was what scared him the most.

There was a light breeze whistling its way around the yacht now, and Ventus, distracted in that moment, realised one of the bedroom's portholes was partly open. He rolled over slowly to look over at it, the wind changing direction as he listened, now flowing more freely into the room. He breathed it in, the fresh smell of the sea air only faintly tainted by the tell-tale scent of cigarette smoke.

As hard as it was, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't let it end like this.

Cautiously leaving the bedroom, Ventus made his way back outside and onto the rear deck where they had been enjoying their dinner just hours before. He was surprised briefly to find the table was completely clean, their half-finished meals and the rest of the untouched food all dutifully packed away. He glanced over the darkened water and just made out the glimmering lights of Vanitas' security boat, Namine no doubt on board over there after she'd quietly and efficiently tidied up after them. Everything else was silent and dark around him, a single wall-lamp in the interior lounge room the only light warding off the dead of night. It was eerie, but still peaceful in its own way, and Ventus felt strangely comforted, as if he'd finally regained some semblance of calm.

He found Vanitas sitting right at the very front of the yacht, his legs dangling over the side, arms resting up along the middle railing. From what Ventus could see in the partial light of the moon, Vanitas was only wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else, his pale skin and the splashes of his tattoos on his back and arms almost seeming to glow against the pitch black of the ocean stretching out endlessly in front of them.

Losing some of his nerve, Ventus just stood there for a moment collecting himself, unsure of how to approach him. As he watched, Vanitas flicked the butt of a cigarette out into the water before immediately reaching down beside himself to find another one. There was a click of a lighter, a brief burst of flame before whirls of smoke curled into the air, the light breeze already picking it up and whisking it away.

"How long are you planning on standing there? It's annoying."

Ventus only just managed not to jump as Vanitas' voice cut through the silence. Shuddering in a quiet breath he steeled himself before hesitantly walking forward. He didn't stop until he was right against the railing. Without a word he sat down beside Vanitas, a respectful enough distance between them, his legs also hanging down over the side. For a long time neither of them spoke and Ventus didn't feel the need to rush into it for once. The moon was only a waxing crescent, so the stars above were more than spectacular, the lack of light pollution out here really bringing out the sky in a way Ventus hadn't been able to enjoy for years. He glanced over at Vanitas, wondering if he was admiring them too, only for his heart to sink at what he saw. Vanitas was yet to look at him and instead was staring down into the inky depths of the water beneath them. Ventus looked as well, the complete, solid black of the ocean keeping its secrets and almost seeming to draw him in. It was hypnotising in a way, dark and deep, and nothing at all how it was like in the day time. More than anything, it was unsettling, especially when he realised how fixated Vanitas was with it. He wanted to make him stop, but he still didn't trust himself to speak just yet, still waiting for some sort of sign to tell him when it would be the right moment.

With an audible exhale, Vanitas finished what was left of his cigarette and stubbed it into the ashtray beside him. Ventus looked down and eyed the little ceramic bowl nervously, noticing it was near to overflowing. It was obvious then of how long Vanitas had been sitting out here on his own. Vanitas turned slightly away from him and reached down to his other side, producing a small silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and tilted it towards his lips, taking a long drink. After a pause, perhaps a moment of uncertainty, he then held it out between them, offering it to Ventus.

Without a word, Ventus took it and brought it to his lips. It was whiskey and its strength instantly cut a path down his throat, settling low and warm in his stomach. He passed it back to Vanitas who took another quick sip before recapping it and putting it down, but this time, he placed it between the two of them. Ventus had barely turned his attention back up to the stars before Vanitas was already lighting yet another cigarette. The silence no longer felt comfortable, and Ventus knew it would have to be himself who spoke first. He hunched his shoulders, feeling unsure all over again as he stared back down into the water.

"How did... we end up like this?" He managed to force out, his words barely above a whisper. "...Was it really just me who thought we'd graduate school and end up going to university together? I would… study to be a teacher, and you would do something wildly complicated like astrophysics or chemical engineering. You were always smarter than me… I knew school was boring to you." He shrugged stiffly, a nervous, sad smile on his face. "But then, in a couple of years, we'd have enough saved to get a nice place together… and a TV." Ventus breathed a laugh as he trailed off, but it definitely sounded out of place. Vanitas still hadn't looked at him, now staring out straight ahead, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he listened. Ventus waited for some sort of response, but as no reply came, he quickly felt foolish for saying anything at all. It was obvious the last thing Vanitas wanted right now was to reminisce about the easy life they could have shared. Ventus sighed heavily, already wondering if there was any point in saying anything more.

"That… was never going to be us, was it?" He finished, something like resignation in his voice. "It was never going to happen like that."

Vanitas exhaled harshly through his nose, his shoulders rising as he half curled in on himself. He still stared straight ahead, but after a long pause he answered, his quiet words spoken to the sea.

"One night… when I was coming over to yours after work… there was this guy on the street getting robbed. At least… that's what they wanted me to think, but the whole thing was a set-up."

Ventus' eyes widened, his entire body going still. Vanitas, unhurried, continued.

"A couple of weeks earlier, this punk tried to sell me some crack right outside of a highschool. I decked him clean across the face. I didn't know he was Yakuza… until these two idiots tried to roll me for it – as payback."

Vanitas paused, his lit cigarette now resting in his lap between the fingers of both hands. He idly rolled it back and forth as he spoke, the end still faintly glowing.

"I didn't think, I just went to help this guy pinned up against the wall. As soon as I was close enough they both turned on me. I was surprised, but fighting's easy. I held my own until one of them pulled out a gun."

So engrossed in Vanitas' story, Ventus was now partially turned towards him, one of his hands grasping hard at the metal railing. "How… How come I've never heard this…?"

Vanitas just smiled to himself instead of answering. He cocked an imaginary gun with one hand, his pointer and middle finger both jammed up hard underneath his chin.

"He holds it right here and shakes me – asks me what I have to fight for? Tells me they've been watching me for weeks, living off instant ramen and cigarettes." Vanitas scoffed, dropping his hand back into his lap. "Says he'll put two bullets in my head right now if I can't give him a good enough reason not to..." He barked out a laugh which startled Ventus, his fingers back to fiddling with the now extinguished cigarette, his eyes faraway. "I spat in his face. He didn't even hesitate – punched me right in the mouth with the butt of the gun."

Ventus gasped. "I remember you coming over with bruises on your face! You… You told me you got into a fight with a drunk!"

Vanitas snorted and tiredly rolled his eyes. He paused and shifted where he sat, his expression changing into something that almost seemed guilty.

"I couldn't tell you what really happened because… after he punched me he said – Do you want a reason? You're strong. The boss would definitely like you. Regular work, great money, and… family."

Ventus sat up a little straighter, realising where this was going. Vanitas finally looked at him and Ventus was caught by the intensity in his eyes.

"If you're loyal, you can belong. Life… can be easier. We were once like you, too."

Vanitas looked away again, effectively releasing him, and Ventus swallowed hard. He was afraid of hearing any more, but he already knew he couldn't help himself. Here, Vanitas was sharing something with him he never even imagined they'd ever be talking about, let alone Vanitas being so candid. He realised suddenly that no one else would have heard any of this either and honestly didn't know how he felt about that.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He murmured, his lips barely moving.

Vanitas shrugged, busying himself with retrieving another cigarette from the pack down beside him. He didn't light it though, once again rolling it back and forth between his fingers. "Because… I need you to know." He answered quietly.

Ventus said nothing. He waited for Vanitas to continue.

"Apart from you… I've never had a family. I didn't realise how much I wanted it until it was being dangled right there in front of me. They left me to think about it, but it wasn't long till I went looking for them."

"I knew what I was getting myself into, I can't deny that," Vanitas breathed, lifting a hand to scratch minutely at his cheek before he settled the cigarette between his lips. "I started out just debt-collecting – standover tactics, roughing junkies up, that kind of low-level shit. I honestly hated it to begin with… but then the first time I got paid… it was more money than I'd ever seen in my life. I thought – this is great! ...This is gonna pay off. I'd finally be able to get us out of the slums. I'd pay for you to go to uni, buy us food we'd never had before... and a stupid TV."

Ventus didn't smile. He bunched the fabric of his pants between his fingers as Vanitas paused to light his cigarette. The lighter clicked off and Vanitas inhaled deeply, the smoke billowing outwards briefly as he forcefully exhaled. He looked more or less like a kicked dog in that moment, and Ventus hated seeing it.

"But I… I knew by choosing this path, it wouldn't ever be something you wanted to be involved in. But by the time I realised that, I already couldn't stop. I won't lie to you, Ventus, I liked the power, the freedom it gave me." Vanitas clenched his hands into fists in his lap, his mouth set into a thin, hard line around his cigarette. "Finally, I felt like I was winning against the system that had screwed me over my entire life."

Ventus' chest ached at just hearing that. He knew what Vanitas meant, knew exactly what he was feeling. Growing up had never been easy for the both of them, but more so for Vanitas. Reluctantly, he was beginning to understand.

"One day, we had special orders. The underboss I worked for directly had gotten a tip-off about a large shipment of cocaine that was coming in from overseas for a rival family. Our Oyabun, Xehanort was interested, which at the time seemed strange to me. Xehanort was never a man to involve himself directly, so once we knew our orders were coming straight from the top, there was a lot of pressure on us not mess it up."

Ventus breathed in sharply, surprised to hear Xehanort being mentioned by name. He'd only ever briefly read about Vanitas' adoptive father, so he couldn't help feeling curious in knowing more about him. The way Vanitas spoke of Xehanort made it seem like the two of them ever meeting would have been impossible, but somehow, it had still happened. It was easy to imagine how such a man would have fed into Vanitas' insecurities, but how had the instance of Vanitas' adoption even come about in the first place? From the pictures Ventus had seen of Xehanort, and the things he'd read about him, the ruthless, former leader of the Ishi-kai didn't exactly strike him as someone who was very paternal.

"The plan was to seize the shipment by force," Vanitas went on, pulling Ventus back into focus. "If we managed to succeed we would all go up in rank. My boss… I knew the pressure was getting to him. I saw my chance and took it. I challenged him in front of the others and he accused me of insubordination. But the boys and I, we were all sick of him by this point. The others pledged their loyalty to me, and I easily took his place."

Vanitas absently thumped the heel of one of his feet against the hull of the yacht, the dull resounding sound startling, and Ventus felt a shiver race up his spine that had nothing to do with the coolish breeze. He felt like something had just gone unspoken there, realising what 'taking someone's place' in the Yakuza really meant.

"Under my command, seizing the shipment was a cakewalk," Vanitas scoffed. "But… I had miscalculated how large the haul would actually be and found myself with nowhere secure enough to stash it. I had to... wait for the heat to die down a bit before we moved it on, too."

Vanitas paused to stub the last of his cigarette and the realisation for Ventus hit him all at once. This wasn't just some pointless origin story. He watched Vanitas swallow thickly, saw the slight tremor to his hands.

"The first place I thought of as the safest was… yours."

They had come full circle. The blocks of cocaine stashed in his ceiling all those years ago suddenly had their backstory. Ventus immediately felt himself go on the defensive, even as years of exhaustion and hurt seemed to catch up with him in that moment. He didn't need to hear this after all. He didn't need the reminder of how 'useful' Vanitas had found him in the end.

"Vanitas." Ventus shook his head. "I don't…"

"Let me finish." Vanitas quietly interrupted him, and Ventus fell silent again as he was reminded of their school days, when Vanitas would sit in the exact same way, forcing out some mumbled apology. He could never look at Ventus when he knew he was in the wrong and this time seemed no different, Vanitas' hands fumbling with the lid of the flask as he hastily took another drink. His eyes still locked to Vanitas' face, Ventus reached for the flask as Vanitas lowered it, their fingers brushing minutely. He quickly took a short drink of his own, the burn of the whiskey grounding him.

"I used you. I really did. I knew the kind of danger I was putting you in and I still did it anyway." Vanitas turned to face Ventus, but he still wouldn't meet his eyes. Ventus waited, a hard lump lodged in his throat. Vanitas' eyes finally lifted, and Ventus' first thought was that this wasn't at all fair. Vanitas had no right in looking so devastated.

"Somewhere along the line… I'd forgotten why I was even doing it all in the first place."

Ventus fought himself from reaching out, his hand unbeknowingly shifting along the deck, inching closer to Vanitas as they held each other's gaze. Never in his life had he felt tested like this, but no matter how remorseful Vanitas was now, an apology would only go so far.

Ventus was the first to look away, his arms crossing protectively over his chest, closing himself off. He knew his emotions were getting the better of him, the pained look in Vanitas' eyes burned into his mind.

Beside him, Vanitas sighed heavily and scrubbed a weary hand through his hair. Ventus briefly wondered what the hour was now, his phone left somewhere downstairs. They were both obviously beyond exhausted, but he knew without a doubt there would be no other chances to settle things after this. They would either find closure here and now, or none at all.

"After… everything was over, the next thing I know I'm being summoned by Xehanort himself," Vanitas continued, his voice breaking through the lingering tension. "For a low-level grunter like me, meeting the Oyabun personally is near unheard of."

Ventus raised his eyebrows at that but didn't speak, more than thankful for the curve in conversation.

"He tells everyone in the room to leave before pulling out one of the blocks of cocaine; cuts it open right in front of me. The powder goes to waste all over the floor and left in his hand instead was a tiny, plastic bag."

"A plastic bag?" Ventus interrupted, squinting his eyes in thought. Vanitas nodded, giving Ventus a dry smile.

"He'd never wanted the coke, except for what he'd known was hidden inside each block: 100 grams of pure Adamantite."

"Ada… Adamantite..?" Ventus murmured, surprised to find he knew exactly what it was. "But that's –"

"–Extremely rare, and near impossible to source. It's used in synthesis – for creating chemical weaponry." Still that same dry smile on his face, Vanitas leaned forwards and rested his forearms against the middle railing. "It's worth millions. Without even realising it, I had successfully made Xehanort a very rich man."

"I don't think that's really something to be proud of." Ventus huffed, giving Vanitas an unimpressed look. Vanitas just breathed out a laugh. He looked up at the stars still high above them, his expression strangely fond.

"He… favoured me from then on. And in some… twisted way, I eventually came to see him as my real father. I wouldn't be where I am now without him."

Ventus knew it was unorthodox, but there was a very big part of him that was happy that Vanitas had found someone who had been like a father to him. Even if that man didn't exactly have the best of reputations. Considering his most recent revelation about his own parentage, it was nice to think that at least one of them had experienced some semblance of a genuine family. Ventus could never fault Vanitas for wanting that, especially when he had been just as desperate to find the same.

Dismissing the stars, Vanitas slouched down further against the railing, his face now half hidden by his folded arms.

"Despite that, it… wasn't ever easy. I questioned myself a lot after you left me. But it was already too late. You don't just leave the Ishi-kai. I… don't remember a lot around that time. You leaving was like losing my conscience. And even then it wasn't enough to wake me up."

Vanitas pushed himself upright again, his words gaining momentum, his voice stronger.

"Those things you've read about me… A lot of it is true. I'm not a good person. I've done things that would make your skin crawl. But when I overthrew Braig and then Xemnas, and finally became the Oyabun, I thought, who better to lead these men but me? I am a monster… but all the people I've killed have been scum anyway. And my men. Some of them truly are demons, but they can't act on their own. I keep the Ishi-kai in line. I keep order."

Ventus narrowed his eyes. "Careful. Your ego is showing."

The overly confident air to Vanitas' words wasn't to last. He barked out a short, bitter laugh, staring down at his hands. "Since I've already lost you again I might as well tell you everything." He looked at Ventus and his eyes were fond; his expression soft yet sad.

"Through it all, the only thing that kept me going… was maybe a chance to see you again one day. I always thought… if I found you happy… that would be enough for me, but I already knew, deep down, that was a lie. When you stood in front of me that day, after six, endless years, with your snivelling father ruining your life all over again, my mind was made up. Even if you didn't love me anymore… I wanted you to remember… what it was like to be with me."

"It –" Ventus began before breaking off to cough, his throat unexpectedly dry. "I... could never really forget. Even though… things are different now."

Vanitas tilted his head in thought. "Maybe a lot of things are different for us now, but… I'm glad our paths crossed again. I won't say it hasn't been… hard, but there's also been some… memorable moments."

"I guess I can't argue with that." Ventus agreed, matching Vanitas' smile.

"I'm sorry, Ventus."

Ventus instinctively held his breath, Vanitas' sudden apology more than little unexpected. It went without saying that this was something he'd never thought he'd be hearing. Vanitas just calmly watched him.

"I really am. For everything I've put you through. It sounds like you were happy in Kyoto. I didn't exactly think about how I was…" He broke off sharply, shaking his head. He couldn't look at Ventus any longer. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore anyway. Just know that I am. And I mean it."

Sorry was such a simple word, and yet, to Ventus, it meant so much. It was in that moment that he wondered if this was what closure felt like. His heart was beating much too quickly. It felt amazing. It felt like freedom. Even so, he still couldn't let Vanitas be too harsh on himself.

"Thank you, but... I think you're taking too much credit here. My… My father should shoulder some of that, too. If not for him… all of this would never have happened."

Glancing at him, Vanitas only scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That's the only good your father ever did – bringing you back to me. If he hadn't said your name I would have painted the walls with his insides." He busied himself with his flask again, unscrewing the cap with stiff movements. "I still want to."

Ventus frowned, something about what Vanitas had said sounding off.

"What do you mean… he said my name?"

Vanitas immediately went very still. "Shit…" He breathed, his hands locking around the flask. He looked uncomfortable, as if he'd said too much.

"What do you mean he said my name?" Ventus repeated, his unease at Vanitas' reaction only growing worse as he continued to remain silent. Finally, Vanitas turned and looked him dead in the eyes.

"Are you sure… you want to know?"

"Tell me…" Ventus whispered.

With something like weary resignation, Vanitas placed the flask back down by his side and reached for his cigarettes instead. Without a word he offered one to Ventus. Nervous, Ventus took one. Vanitas clicked open his lighter and held the open flame out for him. He waited patiently while Ventus drew in a careful breath before shakily letting it out. With it having been years since Ventus last smoked, the headrush was almost instantaneous, the strong woody flavour of the tobacco lingering on his tongue.

"Your father… never owed me money, Ventus. He traded your life in exchange for his."

There was a beat of silence between them. Nothing but the gentle sounds of the ocean breaking it.

Ventus just stared, the cigarette lax within his grip. It felt like his brain had short-circuited. "I don't… I don't get what you mean. I don't understand."

"Your father was dragged before me for disrespecting the Ishi-kai down at a bar in one of our known territories. He was just another useless drunk. As an example, I was going to end him personally."

Ventus would have been horrified about how blasé Vanitas was about killing people if he hadn't been so engrossed in hearing more of the story. He was still confused beyond reason, Vanitas' words only barely registering.

"So, there we were," Vanitas began, leaning back on his hands and tilting his face towards the sky. "He was on the ground at my feet begging for mercy, blubbering all manner of ridiculous things. I think I made some off-hand joke about how he was going to make a mess of my carpet but he just wouldn't shut up . He offered me money and I laughed. As if that could sway me." He shrugged, a casual smirk creeping onto his face as he relished reliving it. "I was feeling cruel. I said, fine. If you can bring me two million by the end of the week I'll spare your life. But if you can't, I'll kill you and your entire family. You should've seen his face. He knew he was screwed, and now I was threatening to kill everyone he loved too."

Vanitas laughed and Ventus flinched, the cigarette jolted from between his fingers. He didn't even notice it rolling off the deck and into the water.

"Then… his face changed. He looked hopeful." Vanitas went on, sobering. "Ven, he says, Ventus will help me. He owes me…"

Ventus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His throat felt tight, a wave of nausea settling over him. He could almost hear his father's voice saying those exact words.

"I heard him say your name and thought… it couldn't be. What were the odds? I had never known what your father looked like… but I did know his last name: 'Fujin'."

Vanitas sneered. He leaned forwards again and crossed his arms. "I know I was shocked. I barely dared to believe it. He must have read it on my face – put two and two together. He said if I let him live he would bring you to me. If I had some unfinished business with you, I could finish it."

Ventus was left reeling. "But…! When I… begged you not to kill him, he –!"

"Yes, he called out to you. I know. " Vanitas snorted. "Must have had a change of heart. How touching. Either that or he thought I was still going to kill him regardless." He pointed at Ventus, his expression grim. "That doesn't change the fact that it was entirely his fault you were in that situation in the first place. He used your life as a bargaining chip. He couldn't have known I wasn't going to kill you and he didn't care at all. He just wanted to save himself."

All Ventus could hear was heavy, uneven breathing. It took him a second to realise it was actually coming from him. Trying to calm himself down enough to speak was almost an impossible feat, his palms sweaty as he lifted his hands and anchored them around the metal railing.

"What if I never agreed to help him? If – If I didn't get the money?"

He knew he sounded ridiculously hopeful but he couldn't help it. His mind was still racing, still trying to comprehend. Vanitas just gave him a pitying look.

"He told me where you lived. If you didn't come through with the money I could have still found you. You really think I'd let just anyone pay me a debt a day late? You gotta be joking."

His body falling forwards of its own accord, Ventus covered his face with his hands and pressed his forehead to the railing. He could feel himself shaking. Beside him, Vanitas remained silent.

"I thought… he was finally acknowledging me. But. He never… It was a lie from the very beginning."

It hurt. It hurt a lot. Every time Ventus convinced himself he was finally moving past all of this pain the universe cruelly had to remind him. He blinked and watched his vision blur, his eyes damp as he squeezed them shut again. He shuddered in a breath, trying to steady himself, just as a warm hand threaded its way into his hair. The sudden touch startled him, his shoulders rising sharply.

"...You don't need him, Ventus. You never have. You've always been strong without him."

Allowing Vanitas' hand to stay there, Ventus didn't press himself to answer as he slowly got himself back under control. Vanitas waited, the barely there scrape of his fingernails against Ventus' scalp remarkably soothing.

That's not true… was Ventus' first thought, all too aware of Vanitas beside him, his warm, solid presence something he needed right then. Maybe, at times, he had thought himself strong… but that was only because he had to be. If he'd only ever held onto the hope that his father would once again treat him like a son one day, just like he used to – if he hadn't stood on his own two feet – where would he have ended up? And Vanitas God. Without Vanitas with him, the only one who had made him feel like he was worth anything – made him feel worthy of being loved, what type of person would he have become without him, most of all?

Wiping the last of the moisture from his eyes, Ventus uncovered his face and sat upright again. Slowly, he shook his head.

"No… I was only strong… because you were there."

Sighing, Vanitas leaned away and gently untangled his fingers from Ventus' hair. "You think that, but… you've never needed me either. I don't know why you put up with me for as long as you did. I think a part of me always knew... you'd leave me eventually."

Ventus stared over at him, almost in disbelief.

"...That's my line."

Vanitas didn't say anything. He did look at Ventus though, his expression tired but questioning.

Ventus paused for a moment, knowing it was probably time for him to be more honest too. That didn't mean it was easy, though.

"When I… found all that... in the roof. I was actually relieved. For the longest time… I thought you were cheating on me."

Vanitas looked at him like he'd just spoken a foreign language. "Ventus. I would never cheat on you. That's stupid."

"We always told each other everything, so when you started your 'new job' I knew something wasn't right!" Ventus rushed on, desperate to explain himself. "You were out at all hours and you wouldn't look me in the eyes when I questioned you. I thought you'd found someone else. I thought... it was only a matter of time before you left me." He fiddled with the bottom hem of his t-shirt, too nervous to gauge Vanitas' reaction to what he was about to say next.

"And you were right, about... me leaving you. I didn't think it through. I was angry. I decided I wasn't going to wait around for you to throw me away – I would be the one to leave you first. But then I found the drugs and it was too late. I'd already transferred to Kyoto… spoken to my father. As soon as I walked out that door I regret it. I… I knew what it would do to you, leaving like that, but… I was so angry. I just wanted to punish you for lying to me."

"Either way you look at it, it's still my fault then." Vanitas murmured, his shoulders held stiff.

Ventus shook his head, silently cursing his weakness. He just needed Vanitas to understand. Folding in on himself he rested his forehead back against the metal railing.

"I was just scared. Because… everyone leaves. My mum… my father… anyone I ever cared about always leaves me. You think I'm strong. I'm just a coward. If I'd stayed, maybe we would have been able to work through it. But I… I ruined it. At the first hint of trouble I ran. I never gave us a chance."

At that, Vanitas moved closer. He tried to catch Ventus' eye, but Ventus wouldn't look at him. "You can't say that. There's no point in blaming yourself for making a hard choice that I pushed you into in the first place."

Ventus turned his head to the side, only to find Vanitas mirroring him, resting his head against the railing as well. As their eyes met, his mumbled words left him all in a rush. "But I… I made out it was all your fault… even though, maybe... if I'd been offered the opportunity to give us a better life... I might have joined the Yakuza too."

They both silently regarded each other, the weight of Ventus' words slowly sinking in. Neither of them moved, now sitting so close together the flask and ashtray were nearly sandwiched in between them. Vanitas smiled softly, a small, amused sound breathing past his lips.

"I knew you were stubborn. I'm glad I was persistent or I wouldn't be hearing any of this."

"More like obsessive…" Ventus scoffed, but he was smiling too.

Vanitas flat-out grinned, the tension between them broken. "But I think… you kind of like me that way. You always have…"

Ventus laughed shortly as he sat up straight again, his amusement short lived as he still remembered there was more to say. Vanitas followed him, watching him closely. It was like they were both silently wondering now… Where would they go from here?

"I didn't mean it… what I said. At… At dinner." Ventus whispered, holding Vanitas' gaze. "When I said I… didn't…"

"I know." Vanitas whispered back, serious all over again. "But I'm not going to force you anymore."

Ventus gasped quietly as Vanitas placed his hand over his, squeezing his fingers lightly.

"Do you really think… we wouldn't work?"

Ventus searched Vanitas face, still struggling with an answer. It was right there, he knew it was. He just had to get the words out. Vanitas lifted his hand away only to slide it underneath Ventus' palm. Without a word he gently interlaced their fingers and Ventus didn't hesitate in squeezing back this time. He felt lighter somehow, like finally having everything out in the open had lifted some great weight off his chest.

"If you can't be with me, you better leave Tokyo." Vanitas murmured, his eyes never leaving their interlaced hands. "I'll give you back that money so you can pay off your debts. If you stay… If I see you with someone else... I just can't. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Like I haven't noticed…" Ventus mumbled, but Vanitas didn't smile. He was still waiting for an answer.

"I couldn't go back. Not now." Ventus sighed, bumping their shoulders together. "Kyoto was a great place to live, but… those six years without you. I wasn't happy. I thought I was, until I saw you that day. As soon as I saw you… even though you looked so cold and distant, I finally felt like…"

"Like, what...?"

"Like I was… whole again."

The sky above was just beginning to lighten, all of the stars fading out with the oncoming rise of the sun. Ventus leaned into Vanitas' side, giving his answer to the horizon.

"Do you… want to try again?"

Vanitas went very still. Slowly, he turned to look down at Ventus, searching his face almost desperately.

"I'll be Yakuza till the day I die, Ventus. I can't… I can't change that." He looked sad, regretful, as if he somehow thought Ventus had forgotten that.

And Ventus thought, this is what he would have looked like that night he'd left – the regret and guilt, the torment and... heartbreak. He wasn't prepared for Ventus to reject him again, but here he was – giving him an ultimatum anyway. Ventus smiled, equal parts sad yet elated, but all in all, still honest. He had made his choice.

"I know you can't. But you'll always just be 'Van' to me."

He leaned forwards, lightly brushing his fingers along Vanitas' cheek, closing the gap between them.

Hands trembling, Vanitas gently framed his face as they kissed, their lips fitting so perfectly, breaths intermingling. Ventus had already closed his eyes and lost himself in a feeling he'd ultimately thought lost to him. This soaring, wonderful emotion as he finally let himself go. Everything was alright, everything was going to be okay. As long as Vanitas was always by his side.