The gears grind
A mizzle muffled the sounds of the city. Cars honked at a distant intersection and fuzzy halos indicated the traffic lights changing color.
No one answered the door. Clavius obstinately refused calls, reminders and subtle threats from the KBWA. He did not show up for training, not since he bared a piece of his mind to the vice-chief, and alternated between the locations of his work and home.
An electronic lock. Typical. A spark of electricity danced between Riku's index and thumb and the device short-circuited. He tried the door handle, it did not budge. Checking the hallway, he retrieved two multipurpose lock-picks from his yellow bomber jacket and in a few short moments, closed the door softly behind him.
Leaving his rain spattered sneakers in the entryway, Riku moved to the lounge, the luxurious carpet sinking underfoot. A humming filled the otherwise desolate silence. The curtains in the kitchen parted to a vista of the grey horizon, broken by the oblong shapes of skyscrapers. A corner of the living room smelled distinctly of Vanitas, Nox wrinkled his nose, leather and the undercurrent stench of darkness.
Moving with predatory grace, he passed the kitchen. Dishes dried on an overhead rack and a stained coffee mug sat forlornly in the sink. The twins had an impressive library of games, Sora probably liked those simulation games, Animal Crossing? Riku snorted at the cutesy, colorful anthropomorphic animals and blinked disgustedly at a horror title before finally wrapping his gloved fingers around the chrome handle of the frosted glass door.
It swung open with a barely heard creak.
A blast of warm air hit Riku's face and he stepped inside, turquoise eyes surreptitiously locked on the brunette sprawled on the bed. Spiky hair stuck up at odd angles. Legs tangled with a feather comforter. A delicate, brass and glass-petal lamp adorned the simple bedside table and an ivory painted wardrobe ran the entire length of a wall. Pewter grey light seeped from a curtained window and Riku yanked the blinds up.
The occupant in the bed stirred.
11:45 a.m.
Residential District
Apartment
"What are you doing in my house?" Sora demanded, the hysteria in his tone smothered by sleep. "...I'm informing the police of an intruder." He sedately pushed the comforter away and reached for his phone charging on the bedside table.
The Grey Knight crossed his arms. "You failed report for training, it's been more than a week," he blandly stated. "You ignored repeated summons from the KBWA and did not offer an excuse."
Messages from the agency and a work outline from the receptionist flooded his phone. Dismissing them, Sora hauled out of bed and contemplatively zoned out the window. How did Nox get in? He lumbered past the silver haired man and squinted at the door, searching for signs of a break in. Could Riku teleport? Sora sniffed the air; Vanitas taught him a burned metal scent indicated the use of dark corridors.
"You picked my locks?" he asked incredulously.
The man nodded.
Lame.
"Coffee?" Sora motioned to the table, self-consciously buttoning his cotton pajamas till it choked his neck. "I usually have pancakes in the morning with lots of butter and syrup." He packed away Vanitas' soft toys, stuffing them in the wardrobe one evening on an impulse. Guess it paid off. Imagine Nox walking in and seeing a rainbow stuffed unicorn on the sofa-bed. "Cream in your coffee?" The maker dripped while Sora hunted through the cupboards and stacked the granite counter with flour, sugar, bowls and mugs.
A blast of sharp, rain scented wind gusted through the window when he opened it.
"I prefer tea." Riku laid his car keys on the counter. "I already ate breakfast," he intoned. "You are coming with me to the KBWA for training."
Clavius ignored him. "I'm in the mood for blueberry pancakes." He yanked open the fridge. The aroma of coffee filled the kitchenette as he sifted flour in whisked eggs and fired the stove. Before long, the sizzling sound of fried batter cut the oppressive silence. Sora filled two mugs with coffee, stirred cream and sugar in both, added more sugar to his coffee and divided the breakfast between him and the brooding, older male. "Please drink up," he said and swallowed an array of capsules with the first gulp.
The swirling, hot beverage looked appetizing, however, Riku delicately sipped from the mug and resisted an automatic grimace. "I prefer tea," he repeated. The corners of Sora's mouth tightened in a suppressed sneer. "I'm authorized to use force if you decline to attend training today," Nox warned, miffed by the lack of a response.
"And you're authorized to twiddle your thumbs when a fellow operative is... is..." Sora cut his pancake into messy cubes. Yesterday's half eaten dinner glared at him from the bin when he threw away the eggshells and his stomach contorted. "Is kidnapped. Did the Organization issue a statement?" he asked, drowning his brittle tone with a mouthful of food. "Like a ransom or an exchange?"
The pancakes tasted delicious and Riku slowly ate another one. "The KBWA is busy." His neutral expression slipped to one of sympathy when Sora paused. "I'm sorry. I tried taking King Mickey's permission to retrieve Clavius," another slurp of the frankly disgusting coffee, "but ultimately, Leon is in charge of my affiliated branch and I am tasked with prepping you for battle." Giving up, Riku pushed the coffee away.
Passive aggressively pushing it back to him, Sora pensively munched. "I see." He heaped another pancake on Nox's empty plate. "No wasting food," Sora acidly stated. "If my brother was here he'd strangle you." At least Riku tried to reach out to Vanitas. Maybe. "Thanks," he mumbled.
Roughly an hour later, he breathed in the mint candy scent of Riku's smart car as it sped towards the squat, unassuming building serving as KBWA headquarters. The guard tipped his cap respectfully at Sora who mustered a half-smile. Slinking behind his mentor, he offered his smart devices to an official.
The atmosphere in the gilded reception, normally one of ease and formality, hardened. Cubicles bathed with the mellow light from overhead, paper lanterns, highlighted tense secretaries and solemn exchanges of words. No friendly, work related banter. Glumly tailing Nox, Sora descended to the dining hall, put off by the lack of chatter and the comforting aromas of cinnamon and warm milk.
The teleportation moogle greeted them and only Sora languidly returned the greeting.
A muted pop, accompanied with the sensation of nausea, and they materialized in the featureless training chamber. To their surprise, the vice-chief waited with Donald and Goofy and comforted by them, Sora squashed his poisonous resentment from rearing its head. The KBWA had rules.
They couldn't sacrifice the safety of a dozen members only to secure the life of one.
Did she have to go through this? Hoping. Hoping they don't kill someone you hold dear? Obviously not, or she'd be a little more accommodating. What did Organization XIII want with Vanitas anyway? Sora's mind drifted while Tifa, knuckle duster glittering on her calloused hand, referred with Riku. Xemnas once asked about him, but for what? Vanitas uses darkness but so does Riku... did the Organization ever lay hands on the Grey Knight?
"Clavius," reverie broken, Sora turned to the vice-chief, "as the King, you have rights to companions." Behind her, Goofy shifted uncomfortably while Donald grasped his staff, eyes lidded in suspicion. "Usually, the delegation is approved by Squall, but he is currently busy at the moment." Tifa distractedly fiddled with her hair, cracking a parental smile which thawed the anger Sora carried around like a block of never melting ice. "For now, you will be attended by Vanitas' companions; Goofy, who is the leader of the knights and Donald-"
"No," the duck quacked.
The word bounced through the empty chamber, echoing endlessly.
No. No. No…
"We swore fealty to our current master, the Black Saint. The only grounds for external transfer is when Vanitas issues a statement or when he's dead." Donald raised his chin defiantly, the zipper on his blue beret swung vigorously. "Vanitas is not dead and I'm not acknowledging him," he pointed his gem topped staff at Sora, "as my new charge!"
The exclamation left a deafening silence in its wake. Glowering with his cartoonishly large eyes, Donald challenged the vice-chief to refute his statement. Lockhart exhaled exhaustedly. Spinning on his webbed foot, the court mage marched out with Goofy, who smiled apologetically to Sora.
Citing work, the vice-chief took her leave, heels clacking loudly on the cement floor.
Selecting a virtual stage on the attached control panel, Riku entered the sealed chamber. The walls pixelated and a castle emerged in the backdrop, its turrets capped with light blue tiles. Golden yellow flags fluttering in a pleasant breeze. Assuming a position in the middle of the sandstone courtyard, Riku summoned Braveheart and beckoned for Sora to do the same.
"Disney Castle," Nox said while Sora studied the palace. It's King Mickey and Queen Minnie's home... and mine," he tugged his bangs awkwardly, "somewhat." A cross-road spun hypnotically above his head; the roads led to pitch black darkness, a dawning sun and a horizon in between where a tranquil dusk gave way to nightfall. "We will focus on your strengths. I've given up on you ever mastering the physical aspect of Keyblade wielding," Riku drily informed, "and will help you hone your magic. There is a certain move I'm interested in. Union X, did you try activating it?"
This is Disney Castle, where perfect cherries grow on perfect trees and the dew on the grass is sugar syrup. Sora absentmindedly summoned his Keyblade, peering past Riku, to the image of the castle. It's bright.
The sharp crack of thunder sent his wandering concentration back to the silver haired mentor. "No," Sora lazily responded. "Each time I try, voices invade my mind." When he first attempted Union X, a thousand whispers invaded his cranium, he tasted dust and the iron tang of blood. The silken shroud of death and ghosts glided gently over his skin, pressing kisses on his neck and mouth and he passed out. "I can't... I don't... It's like I'm disturbing the dead," he grit out.
"You are," Riku agreed emotionlessly. "You bear the responsibility of all the Keyblade Warriors slain in the great Keyblade wars. Union X calls upon their blades and dreams and it's a command exclusive to the King." A shining crown perched on the trainee's hair, golden and glitzing. "Try summoning it."
Clasping the Kingdom Key with both hands, Sora angled the teeth downwards. Familiar wails and shivers crept up his spine.
Is this how Maya and Pearls feel when the channel the dead?
Pale blue eyes followed the rapid fire typing. He read the reports and grunted in agreement while Tifa issued a message to all branch leaders.
Where's Leon? A note flashed onscreen, signed by Hiro from San Fransokyo. I wanted to talk to him about the AR Device?
May we please see Leon? Another polite request from the princess of Agrabah.
Leon? I have the updates for the improved virtual training room, version 3.5.2
"They are asking for you," Tifa quietly stated. "Squall," she breathed tiredly, "you are asking me to shoulder a lot of responsibility."
The artificial sunlight did not warm his useless right arm. A blanket covered his lap and he painstakingly wheeled to the desk, reaching for his pen. The pen fell from his grasp and his brows furrowed in defeat. Picking up the pen and pressing into his hand, Tifa's fingers lingered over fresh scars.
A dark corridor ripped open in the grey lounge. The resident nobodies froze for a split moment before collectively drawing their weapons, their battle honed instincts buzzing. The meddling chief of the KBWA, Squall Leonhart, breezily stepped through, like he decided to drop a casual visit to his friends instead of marching into a writhing nest of enemies. He grinned nonchalantly at the hostile welcome while the black robed Organization XIII members formed a loose circle around him, the empty spaces filling with lesser nobodies.
Electricity crackled between Larxene's foudre and Luxord shuffled his deck of blade edged cards. Thrusting through the crowd, Lexaeus' tomahawk thudded to the ground and spider web cracks ran across the floor, stopping short of Leon's shoes.
He lifted his palms in a universal gesture of peace.
"You should rest," the vice-chief intoned and he shook his head, the tendons in his neck alternately screaming in pain and numbing to relief. "I'll inform Headquarters. Perhaps King Mickey," she worried her lower lip, "will take over, until the crisis is over."
He slumped on a wheelchair, broken and bruised.
The ranks of nobodies parted for their silver haired superior who smirked nastily in greeting. "There is a fine line between bravery and foolishness Leonhart," Xemnas rasped huskily, irritated by the utter indifference the KBWA leader projected. "What do you want?"
"Where is Vanitas?"
The pains shooting up his spine promptly ceased. His legs did not move when he wanted them to and his right arm hung limp. Leon gripped the pen tightly in his left, refusing to let go, refusing to acknowledge the strength ebbing from his limbs. Tifa coaxed an elixir to his mouth. The golden liquid dribbled past his chin and fell on his jacket in shimmering blotches.
An ungodly sneer replaced Xemnas' irritated smirk. "Vanitas?" he repeated, voice low. "You are on a first name basis with the Black Saint?" The tight ring of higher nobodies eased warily apart. "I was under the impression you adopted a strictly professional relationship policy after what happened to her."
Dropping his raised arms, Squall tilted his head. "He is a loyal associate and you know I don't take loyalty lightly. I'm asking once more." His mien stiffened into an antagonistic mask. "Where is he?"
The ensuing silence continued till Leon shifted. A slow smile cut his face when the nobodies tensed.
"I didn't expect such an extensive welcome, but whatever," he drawled, running a gloved hand through choppy, brown hair. "What will it be? If you direct me to the place Vanitas is sulking, I'll collect him and leave without a fuss. I'm sure he's giving all of you a royal headache." Squall waited for another minute before drawing the gunblade in one fluid motion. Someone inhaled sharply. The subordinate nobodies on the outer ring squealed, only a glare from Xigbar stopped them from outright bolting. "I'm surprised to see you here," Leon callously continued, "I was afraid Joshua might have killed you."
Two arrow gun blasts cratered the area near his boots and Squall smirked, further riling up the sharpshooter. "You won't leave here alive," Xigbar threatened and raised his weapons. "I will enjoy shredding you."
A whirlwind of emerald winds and bruised tones of fire erupted in the chamber. The gunblade sliced through lesser nobodies and they disappeared like smoke, grey, insubstantial. Dodging a volley of shots and grabbing a gambler nobody, Leon used it as a shield and kicked it away when it disintegrated. He danced out of the way when a storm of lightning honed on him.
He charged for the door. Xemnas probably locked Vanitas somewhere in the vast castle. Squall glanced back, at the horde of seething nobodies hot on his tail, murder and wrath whirling in their eyes. Curiously, Xemnas was nowhere to be seen and guarded, Leon streaked through a corridor, blasted the walls apart and resumed careering, wreaking a trail of destruction.
Marble white dust and identical walls continued endlessly. A maze within a maze.
A lance stabbed his shoulder and five more speared the ground, blocking the hallway. Tugging the weapon out, Squall chucked it backwards, snorting appreciatively when it mowed down a row of monsters. He spun on his heel and the corridor flash froze. Lexaeus grunted to an abrupt stop, crashing head over heels and Larxene sidestepped, ducking when the gunblade whizzed for her neck. She hissed angrily when a deflected arrow went through her calf and racked her lightning laced knives across Leon as he pelted past her for Luxord, who enclosed all of them in a translucent, multilayered barrier.
The nobody flung Leon who simply bounced back from the walls, burying his weapon in a dragoon when he sprang up.
"Let's play a... game…" Luxord rasped. A blade point pierced through his chest and his victorious smile crumpled. The large cards he deployed around Leon tore, sliced neatly in half.
Squall wiped the blood flowing from his cheek and jerked back. A heavy tomahawk cracked his ribs and gasping, he kicked, boots slogging against Lexaeus' skull, before landing gracefully on the floor. Spikes of ice erupted form the ground and he slid away, colliding against a waiting Xaldin.
A powerful shove and a tempest sent him staggering backwards.
Twisting, the gunblade sliced fabric, pearls of blood sprang against dark skin and Xemnas lifted an eyebrow at the wound. Leon crept backwards, suppressing the suspicion creeping into his eyes.
"I apologize for cutting you." Squall drowned a hi-potion in one swift gulp. "It was unintentional. I killed one of your members," he added. "Stop this Xemnas."
He trembled at the memory. At the hooked teeth cutting through his flesh at the waist. Cold. Burning. The screaming of nerves as the Gazing Eye severed them. Shorts stippled his right arm, the blood evaporating before it hit the floor. An arc of electricity inked a scar across the body.
And Leon fell. His body painfully numb. The blood bubbling in this throat and choking.
The nobodies leered at him, no longer afraid. Knives pierced his cheeks.
A dark corridor ripped apart in his office, bringing with it the rank reek of blood. He hit the laminated floor with a loud, dead thud and lay there, belatedly aware of Tifa gasping in astonishment.
The chief drifted in and out of consciousness while Ariel worked through the night to stabilize him. The vice-chief stayed next to him, despite Ariel's firm insistence she sleep. When dawn broke, the first rays of sun illuminating a cloudy, iron grey sky, Leon bequeathed his title in shaky, spidery handwriting to Tifa Lockhart.
This was the first time she cried after Isa left for his Special Assignment. Her quiet sobs echoed through the turquoise infirmary and Ariel hugged her, arms comfortingly wrapped around Lockhart's shaking shoulders.
"I don't think I can cope with this." She gripped the desk, her unrivalled strength denting the metal supports. "You should have told me you were going." Tifa arranged his withered, right arm and draped her scarf over it. "You should have taken me with you. No..." she paced agitatedly, "I should have gone to retrieve Vanitas. What were you thinking?" Lemon yellow sunlight rippled across her hair, thick, dark and luxurious. "I'm afraid," Tifa confessed, her shoulders knitting together. "I'm afraid of failing."
Don't be, Leon tried to say but his lips refused to move. Tifa gently caressed the marks pitting the side of his face and Squall laced his fingers with hers. Her wine-red eyes glistened with emotion when he pulled her hand away.
Draft an emergency meeting with his majesty, Squall typed on the keyboard, an involuntary tremor shook his entire body. I'm formally announcing my resignation.
Muted blasts and the deafening din of crumbling walls reached Vanitas. He stopped his brisk marching to listen attentively. "What's going on?" he demanded to Zexion, his boring companion who tailed him like a faithful dog. "Did the KBWA finally counterattack?" he questioned hopefully, moving towards the source of the noise.
"You wish." Zexion cast an illusion, green plants gushed from underfoot. A snake hissed on a nearby tree branch and the humid atmosphere of a dense rainforest materialized in the stark room. "The KBWA has grander lives to protect. Their sole concern lies with the protection of the King," he droned informatively. "It's good Luxord didn't think of kidnapping him, it will stir the Elementals into action. Pity," Zexion continued flatly, "they can't be bothered about you."
Peeved to let the half-pint crawl under his skin, Vanitas squashed a dung beetle. Since his voluntary flirting with death, the crimson and onyx suit clothed him permanently. When he tried stripping it, it refused to budge. "Sora would come for me!" he vehemently asserted. "He'd do anything for me."
"So where is your brother and King now?" Zexion challenged and scribbled in his tome while the illusion cleared in stages. First the shady canopy of lush, green leaves disappeared, followed by the peaty earth. "Why isn't he rescuing you?"
Stomping in the opposite direction, Vanitas mutinously muttered, "The KBWA isn't letting him obviously." He rolled his golden eyes. "I'm positive Leon would come for me." He emerged in a ruined hallway swarming with dusks patching the walls and ferrying away debris. "Oh right... your stupid construction work," he barked and kicked a piece of concrete, accurately nailing a dusk and flushing in guilt. "The remodeling has been going on forever." Another muted boom. "What's the use?" Vanitas grumbled, "it's still the same."
"Perhaps you should accept that you are not as important to the Keyblade Wielder's Association as they led you to believe," Zexion quietly commented and dipped his head in silent acknowledgement when Xemnas appeared. "Please excuse me." He shut his Lexicon with a snap and using a dark corridor, escaped.
The dusks bowed to the superior, striding serenely behind Vanitas.
"How's your wound?" Vanitas enquired unexpectedly. Two days ago... or two weeks ago? he barged unannounced in Xemnas' private quarters, eyebrows rising in shock at the long, oozing injury across the superior's chest. "You took an elixir didn't you? Your goddamn subordinates are insane if they cut you up when sparring. I thought they all worshipped the mud you walked on." Vanitas entered a random fork in the corridor, swore colorfully and backtracked, scrawling a decal on the wall to find his bearings.
"It's healing." Xemnas' clipped comment invited no further inquiry, but the concern Clavius showed both amused and saddened him. "And how is your quest in finding an escape route?" he lightly joked.
If he had a heart, the sheer amount of frustration the Black Saint heaped on him would force Xemnas to toss him back in Leon's lap. But Xemnas did not possess a heart and sometimes, only sometimes, he enjoyed the boy's company. Clavius summoned his Keyblade and blasted a man sized hole through the wall.
Clearing the tendrils of dust, he stepped through. "Wait," he instructed, "I'll make it bigger for you." He raised Void Gear, the teeth sparking with the beginnings of a dark cannon.
"I will do it," Xemnas intoned, half wishing to separate Clavius' head from his body. The ethereal blades sliced through the walls with minimal effort. "These are my weapons," he explained. "You may spar with me if you wish."
Vanitas' gaze lingered for a beat longer before he whipped around. "I wanted to spar with Leon," he forlornly admitted. "Not a schizophrenic pervert like you." The long hallway ended in a door at the far end and Vanitas broke into a run, enjoying a few seconds of mindless exercise and forcing the claustrophobic sensation away. The ornate door, embellished with archaic sigils, opened to an indigo void and a flight of disconnected steps. Above, he craned his neck, another floor with another shut door. "What's up there?" he questioned, hesitantly planting one foot on a smooth, white step.
"I don't know," Xemnas responded, his good humor evaporating. A sorcerer nobody appeared out of thin air, bearing a message from Zexion. "Don't do anything unnecessary," the superior warned. "You are allowed to explore, not destroy at whim."
Biting back a barbed retort, Vanitas dipped his head. "Yeah, whatever." He climbed the stairs, strangely disoriented by the gaps between one step and the next. "If Zexion goes missing in action, it won't be my fault will it?" Vanitas regretted his offhanded jibe when Xemnas' jaw tightened. "By the way," he brazenly added, "I don't see Luxord, we used to play poker and blackjack. The witch told me he's on an extended assignment."
Leaving Xemnas at the threshold, Vanitas ventured further, stomach growing queasy with each step. His phone, the only source of comfort in this barren castle, broke yesterday, when he attacked Lexaeus on an impulse. Lurching back, his phone flew from its flimsy harness around his waist and shattered on the floor.
Shrieking, Vanitas tried piecing the implements together and begged Lexaeus to repair it. But the shattered phone refused to beep to life, despite the technician's attempts to fix it.
The never ending flight of stairs snaked towards the top, completely flipping upside down and Vanitas forged ahead, determined to find out what lay beyond the door. Black chains and a myriad of emblems exuded a Keep Out! aura. Grinning derisively, Vanitas climbed.
If he ever did manage to get out of this place, he'll have a wealth of information to share with Leon.
04:05 p.m.
Los Angeles
Vitamin Square
Children, wrapped in colorful mufflers, chased each other across the square and lined up for their turn at the swings and banana shaped slide. Ripping open a packet of birdseed, Sora perched inside the plastic strawberry and listlessly fed the brave pigeons pecking the ground around his dangling legs.
They regarded the human with beady, jet black eyes and steered clear of the curious gaggle of children hanging nearby.
Eventually, the children grew bored and went off in pursuit of happiness, running amok on the merry-go-round and skipping on the pavement. Sora sprinkled another handful of seeds and clumsily exchanged pleasantries with the older couples out on an evening stroll.
The sparring session left his elbows aching. When they stopped for lunch break in the dimly lit dining hall, Riku elaborated the circumstances regarding Vanitas' kidnapping.
"Arthur Trent," Nox sipped an ice-cold milkshake despite the freezing temperature, "worked alongside Organization XIII to commit those murders. He received payment and instructions on what to do. Further investigations reveal Demyx was not," Riku twirled a forkful of noodles, "part of the plan. He only had a general idea. Luxord is responsible for kidnapping Vanitas."
Sora listened and nibbled on a savory doughnut. "Are you authorized to tell me this?" he asked, sweaty and in a desperate need of a shower. "The KBWA regulates their information very tightly." Pools of flames reflected from glass tumblers. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
A presence stopped near him and Sora bristled. Of all the wide open spaces in the park, the idiot has to stand here. He retreated deeper in the house, hoping, praying the person would go away. The frosty air nipped his cheeks and he obsessively tugged his scarf over his face.
Luxord, the casino master. Sora hardly paid attention to the Level 10 entertainment options which catered mostly for adults. Granted, he was an adult, although I don't feel like one. So, he miserably stashed the remainder of the birdseed in his pockets, Luxord is responsible for kidnapping Vanitas?
I hope he dies. Painfully and slowly.
He startled when a familiar face popped in front of him and flushed, his nervousness settling. "I wonder if there is enough space for both of us," Sora said and scooted to the back. Pearl climbed in, smoothing her kimono demurely. "Is Mr. Wright searching for me?"
A tight squeeze but Sora did not seem to mind. "Not really. He is worried about you, everyone is, but they understand you need time off. Trucy," Pearl unwrapped a container full of cupcakes and giggled daintily when he salivated, "baked these for you. Apollo thinks you're not eating properly."
The outside voices in the park gradually diminished as the sun sunk, setting the cloud streaked sky aflame. Streetlights buzzed to life and the temperature dipped. Warm inside the plastic strawberry and munching in companionable silence, Sora finished the last cupcake and licked his lips free of frosting.
"I saw you at the KBWA today." Pearl rested her chin on her knees, the space smelled of vanilla, buttery and warm. "And I thought you might be here so I dropped by in case you need anything." They climbed out, emerging to a crisp night. Pearl shivered in her kimono and Sora offered his trench coat which she politely declined. "I'm going home now." Her geta clacked on the street. "You're not getting second sight headaches anymore are you?" she enquired, filling the silence between them.
The pagoda gate is gone, the island with tangerine sands and foam flecked seas too. "Hmm," Sora hummed a negative. "There are less orange outlines than before." He motioned to the empty, open air and Pearl agreed. "So it isn't a problem." The two parted at a corner. "Let me get a cab for you."
"I'm okay." Pearl waved him away. "Will you be coming to the agency tomorrow?" She stood under a streetlight, her fringe bauble glimmering.
Hands stuffed in pockets Sora shrugged. "Maybe." Maybe I should go; I'm tired of sulking around at home.
Courteously dipping her head in greeting, Pearl started down the street, her gait firm and Sora loitered. He turned and headed the opposite direction only when the figure disappeared, joining the streams of people heading home.
Human
Late night
Castle Oblivion
"You are not human," Xemnas told him.
The words plagued Vanitas' dreams and he gasped awake, heart thudding painfully in his ears. Moonlight bathed the jail-cell of a room the Organization provided him with and he swallowed the overwhelming fright constantly threatening to drive him insane.
It started innocently, the dream. He played hide and seek with his brother, traipsing corridors with little feet, ignoring the groan of wood. Shadows contorted and he pounced on Sora, whose spiky hair betrayed him. His brother turned into liquid, leaving Vanitas with muddy, scarlet hands.
"Sora?"
He turned to a silver bearded grandpa and shied away from the gnarled hands roughly grabbing his collar. The buttons on his shirt ripped and uncomfortable, he squirmed when the hands reached for his belt.
Shivering, he backed into a corner and bared his teeth. The grandpa laughed a harsh, piercing sound and pulled Vanitas closer. He pressed a yellow nail against pale, unblemished skin and it split.
The crimson and ebony suit clung like second skin and he grew accustomed to it. Wanting to get more comfortable, Vanitas pulled the stretchy fabric obstinately. It hurt damn. It felt like he pulled his skin apart.
Rip.
He hissed through teeth when the fabric gave way and tore, the skin underneath...
No skin?
"You are not human," the old man in his dreams taunted and Vanitas stared horrifiedly at the nebulae of darkness writhing in place of his muscles and bones.
A/N: I wanted to portray Xemnas and Xehanort as two distinct, but connected personalities. Xemnas has a little bit of Terra in him whereas Xehanort is the crazy, utterly darkness obsessed old man we all know.
Please read and review. Questions, comments and constructive criticism are all welcome.