Murky, misty, wistfulness
08:00 a.m.
Wright and Co. Law offices
Boardroom
Sora checked his statements with the information his senior provided and drafted counter arguments. He knew Apollo never read from a page and relied heavily on the art of perception when cross-examining, but it never hurt to be prepared.
His lone, spiky haired reflection smudged the elegant light fixtures hung from the ceiling. Mr. Wright hardly used the boardroom. Instead, the senior attorneys frequently ambled in and out when Sora worked, either to drop hints, lecture him on some aspect of defending, or, to keep him silent company when he worked. At times, they had lunch and the sterile chamber filled with the aroma of soup and quiet, contemplative chatter.
His phone buzzed and Sora groaned at the message.
You are required to immediately present yourself at the Keyblade Wielder's Association, Basement floor 4, Research Laboratory.
He toyed with the idea of ignoring the summons till late afternoon, when his training with Nox began. Phone in hand, Sora agonized, the pit of his stomach coiling unpleasantly. The KBWA did not tolerate tardiness but if he had to punch in every alternate hour, his law career will suffer and he'd rather die than give up this firm.
People scrambled to get in here, Mr. Wright invited me and I'm not going to let anyone kick me out.
The Detective shut herself in the forensic laboratory, poring over a piece of evidence with such raw intensity, she forgot to eat. When she finally emerged, dark circles under her eyes and nearly crashing into Apollo, she seized Sora and ranted about the wonders of science while he tried to pry her surprisingly vicious grip off his upper arms. Ema's lab coat stank of corrosive chemicals, clashing with the ever present, sweet chocolate aroma of her snackoos.
He admired her tenacity to sit with a problem and pore over it till she solved the nitty-gritty details. Putting his phone on airplane mode, he resolved to finish the last of the paperwork.
Barely five minutes later, Wright barged in and handed his phone to Sora. "It's the KBWA," he tersely explained. "I wonder how they got my number. I don't think I gave it to them." He dropped into an easy leather chair and inspected the work.
Soul about to depart from his body, Sora accepted the call, bracing himself.
"Clavius, you are required to show at the KBWA immediately," Belle curtly stated, sounding identical to the synthesized voices used at bus terminals. "You know we would not bother you if it weren't for urgent business," her formal tone softened before she cut the call.
The KBWA has an urgent business every other day, Sora inwardly scathed.
Handing the brick phone back to his boss, Sora gathered his papers and crammed them in his satchel. "The KBWA wants me," he mumbled angrily. "At this rate I'll have to take permanent residence there." Phoenix smiled sympathetically. "Mr. Wright, I'll finish these before handing them to Apollo." Sora tucked the ends of his scarf in his charcoal grey suit jacket. "I might not make it back to the agency though." Reluctantly he checked his phone and made for the door.
A breathless Pearl caught him on the pavement outside the agency. "I need to go to the agency too," Pearl gasped and smoothed her lilac robes. "Mystic Maya said I should register, will I have to write a test?" She clasped the comma jewel around her neck. "I don't think I'll pass," Pearl lamented and a cab drew to a stop. "Thank you" she smiled courteously when Sora opened the door for her.
Mercifully spared from sitting right behind the driver, Sora racked his brains for a conversation. The taxi driver probably thought of them as a sorry couple. He loosened his muffler, straining to break the frigid silence.
"They... the KBWA might give you an aptitude test." Sora rolled down a window and the aroma of freshly sizzling meat from a nearby grill hit him. "My brother went through an evaluation, but since you're from the Fey clan," he reasoned, "I don't think you have to do anything. You can't practice magic or martial arts, can you?"
The taxi stopped rather sharply at a red light and the cabby fidgeted nervously. Pearl kept silent, a nonchalant grin plastered on her face and Sora pinched himself.
Definitely some weird people you picked up there, he sighed, feeling sorry for the driver.
His baggy pants and jacket turned a wicked silver and obsidian. In the Final Form, Vanitas levitated off the ground. Two Keyblades were crossed behind his back and after casting magic, ramming into virtual targets became an effective form of elimination. Unfortunately, the ultimate Drive Form wrung every drop of conscious effort and when his companions separated from him, he crashed to the floor, clawing his throat for a glass of water.
The acrid smell of sweat hung in the chamber. Vanitas' scalp steamed. Donald hovered over him, the duck suddenly gained an extra pair of eyes. Clothes sticking to his skin, Vanitas painstakingly limped to the entrance and groaned pathetically to the teleportation moogle. He materialized on Basement floor 7, the living quarters.
He nearly threw up. Goofy did warn him about the Final Form taking a strenuous toll on the body and mind. Did he listen?
Of course not.
Rubbing his eyes, Vanitas panted for breath. His hands shook, darkness pecked his vision. People passed the wretched figure leaning against the southern wall of the accommodation block and whispered. He couldn't muster the energy to glower at them effectively.
"Is he the Black Saint?" someone rushed by, "did something happen to him?" The KBWA associates stared discreetly. "He's covered in sweat... and kinda stinks."
"Go help him take a shower." A member suggestively elbowed her friend. They smelled of flowers and sunshine.
"You help him take a shower!" she shot back, cheeks crimson. "Shampoo his hair while you're at it."
Shut up. Vanitas undid his shoelaces. Shut up. The noise buzzed in his ears like angry bees. A shadow fell across him, partially blocking the artificial light.
"Do you need help?"
"Do you need a beheading?" Vanitas growled in response and unbuttoned his jacket. "Oh, it's you." He sheepishly balled the damp material. "Thanks." He rose with the help of Cloud's outstretched arm and clutched the wall for support. "I did some intensive training," he explained to the blonde and wobbled towards the communal shower area. "I'm never pushing myself like this again. I feel like I'm knocking on death's door," he chuckled sardonically.
The cold water melted a good part of his exhaustion. Vanitas zoned on the water, mildly fascinated by the streams whirl-pooling down the drain. Lightened scars crossed his arms and torso. After he joined the KBWA, his confidence at wearing sleeveless tops decreased. Not to mention the all disapproving glares Sora subjected him to when he walked around the house shirtless, with his wounds on display. The shower cubicle's freezing tiles burned his feet and squatting on the ground, Vanitas let the relentless torrent of water pound him.
He lost track of time.
When he opened his eyes, the water fell steadily. The shower cubicle grew coffin cold and shivering, he frantically turned the tap off and faced a second dilemma.
No dry clothes.
"Ahyuck." Goofy knocked on the door. "Donald and I got clothes for you and a potion," he announced and Vanitas opened the door a crack, trying hard to suppress his grateful smile. "There's hot coffee in the dining hall; and…" the anthropomorphic dog fussily straightened his hat.
"Don't tell him," Donald hissed through a pursued bill. "It's nothing," he quacked and crossed his wings.
You two suck at lying.
"I'll find out sooner or later," Vanitas smirked, voice bouncing in the cubicle. The pants refused to button at his waist. "Whose clothes are these?" he demanded, struggling to zip them up. "I'm getting old man vibes from it." He unfolded a navy blue jumper and froze.
"They are... uh..." Goofy faltered. Both he and Donald tensed when Vanitas emerged from the shower, trailing cold mist. "Well, I suppose we should head to the mining, err, dining hall?"
The trio rode the elevator in strained silence. Vanitas admired his reflection on the floor, his mentor couldn't have been this skinny, could he? The clothes barely fit him. The lift briefly stopped at the fourth underground floor to admit Neku, blissfully ignorant of the surroundings due to a pair of oversized headphones. Vanitas slammed his hands against the closing doors when he heard an unmistakable, breathless voice. The sliding doors parted and baffled, he stalked to the research laboratory.
His companions sedately followed him. "Oh boy, here we go again," Donald muttered and summoned his staff for an emergency.
10:30 a.m.
KBWA
Research Laboratory
A high tech scanner bathed Kingdom Key in an array of different lights. It started with an acid green wash, then a blinding red, a pale yellow, heck, all the colors of the rainbow before a printer geared into action and with a pitched whine, spat paper at such frightening speeds, Sora grew tired just listening to it. The reams of paper spooled to the floor, largely unnoticed by the technicians who crowded around the famed Keyblade and rivetedly whispered to each other.
A taking, top hat wearing cricket bounced from one table to the other, rotating around the glass cage bearing the King's weapon. He observed Kingdom Key from all angles and Sora shriveled each time the KBWA's boss, sipping a steaming mug of coffee, peeked at him.
A shimmering golden crown perched on the side of Clavius' head. Squall quietly examined the brown haired young man, noting the way he piled the scarf in front of his face, sky blue eyes racked with nervous apprehension. He constantly stole glances at the door, no doubt waiting for his brusque brother to save him.
Vanitas thundered into the laboratory and Leon exhaled.
He trusted the King's knights to waylay the Black Saint. Did Vanitas possess a sixth sense when it came to his twin? Squall frowned thoughtfully. He placed his mug on the table, pretended not to notice an exasperated grimace from an intern and picked the mass of paper collecting on the floor.
The chemical composition of Kingdom Key bore a similar match to Void Gear. If he recalled correctly, the Black Saint's Keyblade consisted of elements exclusively found on Destiny Island; a micro-planet shorn in half. The printer clicked akin to an irate insect before churning another ream of paper. Leon snatched one from midair, the sheet still warm. He studied it, absentmindedly rubbing his scar and carefully stepped over a coil of transparent wires to compare the statistics against the Kingdom Key D, displayed on a nearby screen. The proportions of light and darkness in the Keyblades were inverted and Leon hummed knowingly.
He cocked his head when Jiminy jumped on his shoulder and pointed to a particular statistic. The screen abruptly went blank. In a second, the printer followed suit, coughing out half a sheet before it died.
"My bad," Vanitas drawled. All around the laboratory, the equipment malfunctioned. "I think I tripped over a wire." He brazenly kicked a bunch of thick cords away from a receiving socket. "My boots are too big," he complained.
Next to him, Sora squeaked unintelligibly and buried his chin in a graphite grey muffler.
Calmly handing the results to the historian, Leon off handedly nodded. "Whatever." He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Accidents happen all the time. Although if Tifa was here," light blue irises sharpened predatorily, "you'd have to worry about cracked ribs instead." A bespectacled researcher barked in laughter and Leon climbed the twisting staircase to the rustic second floor. "You two," he tossed across his shoulder, "come with me to my office."
For once dear brother, I wish you could stop being an overbearing, royal headache!
The lift hummed to the eighth floor and tapping his boot to offset the blanket thick silence, Vanitas uncomfortably adjusted his pants. "Was Zack this thin?" he questioned. "This isn't his current clothing is it?" he twisted when Sora pointedly stared at a scar spilling from his bicep to his forearm.
"That's his clothing when he first joined the KBWA, where did you get it?" Leon robotically responded. The elevator dinged and the trio stepped into an office flooded with artificial sunlight. "What time is it?" Squall muttered and checked his watch. "Tch, early and bright." He lethargically dumped himself in a chair, hunted through his empty mugs for lingering dregs of coffee and indicated for the twins to be seated.
Sora nervously perched on the edge of his seat, attention drawn to the planters at the edge of the office. His eyes panned up, to the silk screen and Balamb Garden. Vanitas crashed into a chair like no one ever taught him how to sit and played with a clear paperweight on Leon's desk. The boss booted a slim laptop and Sora frowned, isn't technology not allowed in the inner sanctums of the Association?
"Tell me about your past," Squall prompted and Vanitas opened his mouth. "Not you," Leon sternly cut in.
Mind vacant, Sora hastily forced his childhood memories to surface. They sluggishly fell in place, like a jigsaw puzzle. "Mom had brown hair," he blurted in an effort to contribute. Leon waited patiently, face strangely blank. "Dad... Dad had my eyes." Sora brooded, why do I remember fuzzy bits and pieces? In any case, he had a strong feeling the leader of the KBWA did not want comprehensive details about their parents' appearances. "Is there anything specific you wanted to know?"
"When did your parents die?"
A searing pain jolted through Sora's chest, like a bullet passing through his heart. The sunshine and leaf green office swam for a split second before righting. "...I don't remember," he confessed. "All I remember is Vanitas screaming his lungs out," so loud, "and a lot of rain and sand. We were at the beach," waves and salt, "and there was an earthquake." Fleecy, dark clouds choked the sky, raining till he passed out. "We woke up in hospital. He," he motioned to Vanitas, "was intensive care. Our Grandpa took custody."
"You have a grandfather?" Leon scribbled a summary in his notepad, ponderous gaze never leaving the twins. The Black Saint spun the glass orb under his palm, eyes glassy.
"Grandpa Yensid," Sora clarified.
Squall's fingers tightened on the pen. "Who?"
"Grandpa Yensid," Vanitas repeated. "We," he uneasily scratched the back of his head, "he looked after us and suddenly decided to pack his bags to go on a world tour the day we hit twelve." He recalled the wizened old man always dressed in some sort of blue clothing. "I liked braiding his beard." An involuntary smile flitted across his lips. "Anyway, the old fart left us... we don't talk about him. Sora was really close to him."
Lazy evenings spent on Grandpa's lap, reading fairytales about heroes saving the world. The modest house smelling of cinnamon cookies and chocolate milk. Sora breathed, a headache beginning at his temples.
Reviewing the words on his notepad, Leon further questioned, "Have you ever tried tracking down your grandfather?"
Their twelfth birthday dawned with a battered suitcase near the door. Airport luggage stickers plastered the leather and Vanitas obstinately pulled them apart, plastering the barcodes on his arms. Sora rubbed his eyes and faltered down the stairs, jumping into Grandpa's arms when he appeared from the kitchen, balancing a plate of vanilla pancakes. A grave solemnity lined the wrinkles in his face and Sora's stomach turned. He brushed off the feeling.
After all, bad things never happened on birthdays.
"Why should we?" Sora fought to keep his tone from leaking acid. "I don't want anything to do with him anymore." He venomously wiped his clammy palms on his slacks. "He can rot on an island for all I care."
They are brothers, Leon mused with a flicker of amusement.
"Did your grandfather know about Vanitas' second sight?" Squall queried, the more he knew about them, the more questions surfaced in his mind.
"He said I was special, it used to make Sora moody." Vanitas playfully punched his brother. "Sometimes I'd ride on Grandpa's shoulders and he'd ask me if I saw anything, I suppose he was humoring me."
He remembered launching off the top of a plastic play slide to catch the shadowy thing seeping from the grassy ground. Grandpa raced out of the house, sternly screaming at him to be mindful. Vanitas stood up, forehead grazed and missing a front tooth. He spat the disgusting, coppery blood out while Sora howled, arms covered in scratches and mud.
"You'd never go to sleep until the old fart read you a story and kissed you goodnight." Vanitas added and spun the chair to face his brother. The glass paperweight clattered to the floor, forgotten, again. "And you had bunny curtains framing your window, the one overlooking the giant oak tree." He scowled pensively. "There used to be a shimmering dome thing around our house, no one could see it and no one believed me."
Rigid in his seat, Sora toed the paperweight. "I had bunny curtains," he mumbled, "you had an army of plush toys on your bed, you still do." His twin sputtered in embarrassment when Leon smirked. "You once sat on your dragon plushie... the one with the horn in the middle of its forehead, and jumped from the roof, saying you wanted to fly. Surprisingly, nothing happened to you."
His brother only suffered from a mild fever. Grandpa spoiled them that day with marshmallows cut into monster shapes and let them sleep on the living room floor, watching movies till late at night. He sat between them, cradling the sniffling little Vanitas in his arms.
"Nothing?" Leon echoed. "Strange..."
The chair squeaked when Vanitas spun in it. Donald and Goofy respectfully flanked the office door, so silent, they were not there. An air-conditioned breeze fluttered the silk curtain, offering momentary glimpses of the chambers fanning Leon's office.
Photographs of friends.
Books and bound journals crowding a table, stacked on a chair; their pages interleaved with slips of paper.
At the far end, a shelf bearing tinted bottles.
"Come to think of it, we hardly ever got sick-" Vanitas began.
"Why are you suddenly interested in our past?" Sora interjected. He briefly held Leon's gaze and unable to bear it, shifted his scrutiny to his shiny shoes. A row of tiny plants drew a border between the boss' office and the next.
"Because the foster parents Vanitas claimed you two lived under do not exist." Leon tapped the documents. "I've searched far and wide. A Mr. and Mrs." he checked the names, "Caelum is not registered in the Foster Care Bureau." Vanitas bashfully scratched the back of his head, Sora's disbelieved glare stabbed him like red hot coals. "Because a lot of our work is shrouded in secrecy, the Association members are selected on the basis of how much we can trust them." Leon tossed the papers back on his table.
"And you selected Vani knowing he lied about his past?"
Vanitas cautiously edged away from his fuming brother.
"It's a well fabricated piece of information." Squall shrugged. His griever necklace winked atop his chest. "I kept him under surveillance ever since he hurled a trashcan at a bunch of heartless trailing after him. This was in the third year while you two were at middle school." The cloudy late afternoon found Leon driving to the KBWA after a draft meeting with the Government. He stopped when a metal trashcan rolled across the street, surprised at the raven haired youth screeching obscenities to thin air. The boy picked the lid and threw it like a discus, scattering the remaining monsters. Golden, smoldering irises. The mark of darkness. "I never saw you," Squall admitted. "I never knew Clavius had a twin till after I recruited the Grey Knight."
I finally found my special talent. Sora drooped. Invisibility.
"Nox is older than us isn't he?" Vanitas forcibly changed the topic. Having Leon as a stalker both flattered and disturbed him. "How did he get in the KBWA?"
"It's none of your business," the boss abruptly stated. "Our rule of transparency does not extend to the members. Personal information is a staunchly guarded secret, there will be grave consequences if you go snooping around."
The Black Saint spontaneous straightened at the blade edged tone.
"Whatever," Leon absentmindedly rubbed the diagonal scar slashing his face, "I cannot overlook you sabotaging an important, ongoing research. The Kingdom Key last made an appearance some ninety years ago." Squall typed on his laptop and it screeched. Grabbing the computer, he hurled it under his desk where it met its demise with a deafening crash. "It's a special weapon and you retarded our efforts to study it." He pulled another sleek, matt black laptop from his desk drawer and continued working. "I also received complaints of your treatment of Clavius. Apparently, your training is not rigorous enough. Are you listening to me?" Leon faced the dumbstruck twins.
A silicone chip tumbled out of the wreckage.
"Wow." Vanitas' golden irises sparkled. "Do you destroy laptops on a daily basis?"
Urk. Sora wheeled some distance between him and the crazy KBWA leader.
"It was compromised," Leon curtly answered. "I'm changing your next solo assignment to a joint operation." Vanitas' eyes grew round in angry astonishment. "Unless you want to add a few words and not go on a mission at all? I can arrange it for you," Squall suggested sarcastically.
Saluting, the Black Saint shook his head. "No sir." The polite words seeped through clenched teeth. "I'll do as you instruct," he added.
The boss nodded lightly. "You two are dismissed."
The sunshine's intensity softened as afternoon melted into evening. Leg cramping from sitting rigidly for so long, Sora stumbled out of the office and massaged his calves. No doubt he would have to hit the gym without a recharging break, and suffer through another session of interacting with people and making useless small talk while he secretly admired Hercules and tried to lift weights.
Arriving at the fifth basement floor, he lingered at the gym entrance. His twin graciously escorted him there and the hushed whispers which often followed Sora when he ambled alone, abated. He lingered at the doorway, trying to block the muted chatter while Vanitas irritably adjusted his pants for the umpteenth time.
"Will you be training me again after Nox?" Sora asked. If he waited long enough, his gym session might be reduced. Less time interacting with people he could care less about.
"Yeah. I can't go easy on you anymore though." Vanitas tilted his head. "This is an apology in advance."
Sora often wondered what his brother was capable of. He wanted to find out and at the same time, remain ignorant. The rumors surrounding Vanitas must have some grain of truth in it. Sighing heavily, he squeezed his twin's hand warmly and scurried inside the gym when Hercules teleported to the end of the corridor.
Friends
Disney Castle
Courtyard
The Queen excused herself and retreated to the shade offered by the castle. Hopping off the bench when Minnie left, the King ambled in the gardens and stopped at a figure carelessly asleep on the lawn.
Sunbeams danced across Riku's face and bending over him, Mickey gently shook him awake.
"Don't you have to return?" he squatted next to the yawning young man. The smell of mint candy wafted everywhere. Velvet white daisies bloomed in perfect clumps on the ground. "Are you making friends Riku?"
A half smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Sora still looks like he'd rather have the earth swallow him than train with me, and Vanitas... either wants me to offer mental support, or privately likes to see me uncomfortable. I'm not sure which."
King Mickey laughed and Riku stretched. A faint feeling of ease surrounded the previously troubled Keyblader. "You look," Mickey paused, "happy. It makes me happy."
Riku's cheeks tinted pink and he smiled. "I feel light when I come here," he confessed. Cotton candy clouds streaked the sky. "Maybe I should permanently move here," he entertained the idea.
"I'll fully support you if you do," Mickey exclaimed. "Minnie will love it; she always welcomes extra company at dinner."
They walked across the castle grounds and to the vestibule. Blood red cherries hung on nearby trees. A bird perched on a branch and sang; chirping harmony.
A/N: The Caelum is borrowed from Noctis Lucis Caelum. As for the part where Leon hurls his laptop, the scene is inspired by the anime, Terror in Resonance; when Nine throws the laptop he's working on.
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