xXx-xXx-awaken-xXx-xXx
He had been so close.
Ventus was floating right there in front of them, their beings merged, yet fighting within the blond's Heart.
His Other was so determined to rebuff him and save his friends.
He was determined to make the Worlds burn.
He reached out as the last of his strength left him, nothing but frustration, rage, and regret blooming in his chest at his failure. He tried to grab that rusty and incomplete x-blade, yet it stayed out of reach as he finally gave in to his end.
He fell into the abyss.
It was so dark.
There was Nothing.
And then, slowly, torturously, something wet and cold dripped into his hair at the crown of his head. It joined its grimy wet brothers down towards the back of his scalp and slowly trickled through to the nape of his neck where a nauseating pool was collecting in the base of his helmet's guard.
Why wasn't his visor protecting his face?
His senses were still so dull, still barely there. He thought he might have a body, but it was as if his existence had just been dropped in cement as his nerves refused to work.
Just that horrible feeling of water in his hair.
But he knew he had hair, a neck, and the base of his helmet.
There were voices murmuring, as his hearing decided to creep into awareness.
"Do you think he's okay?"
"Uh, no? He's passed out in a place like this. He's definitely not okay."
"...He looks a lot like Sora."
"Right? Aren't the others looking for him?"
"Guys, I'm pretty sure this isn't Sora."
A laugh, "Well of course not. Roxas and Ven aren't the same person either despite their appearance. This guy might look like Sora, but his coloring's totally wrong. It's a bit more obvious."
"Sora could've just gotten into a dark phase, you know. Changed up his style."
"Uh, I mean, he has started wearing more black, but a skintight bodysuit? Not a chance!"
He'd heard enough.
He might've only recognized one name, but he had an odd familiarity he couldn't place with the name Sora.
Are you sad?
He shuddered, and suddenly breath was in his lungs, cold and hot all at once struck his nerves as he blinked open blind eyes that refused to focus on the three blobs before him. The feeling of questioningly lumpy plastic underneath him, and a horrible pervasive stench that rivaled the deepest darkness assaulted his abruptly working nostrils and he gagged.
He knew all attention was on his as he covered his face, trying to hold back the nauseating roll of his stomach that was more than happy to produce that horrible black tar he occasionally vomited that threatened to evacuate the premises.
What a shitty way to come back from the dead, dammit.
The girl reached out to him first as his eyes began to focus into clarity, "Hey, hey, it's alright. Do you need help getting up?"
He glared at her, the sandy blond boy on her left and the plump black haired boy on her right were also more than ready to assist him. He swallowed thickly, shoving his nausea to the back of his mind as that horrible pool of water leaked down his neck to his shoulders and back from his abrupt movement. The trails of murky water were horrible as they over sensitized his skin, his back burning in violent disgust where water crept.
He couldn't help but growl lowly, "Don't touch me."
The girl gave him a sad, yet compassionate look as she slowly pulled back with a nod, "Alright."
She was just going to listen to him?
The black haired boy smiled at him, "Still, you want help out of that mess?"
The sandy blond nodded, "Can't be comfortable lying in a bunch of garbage."
He sat up and took in his surroundings, acknowledging the truth in their words as disgust ran through every fiber of his being, "Augh!" He tried to shove himself out of the pile he was in, to get away, yet his legs refused to work and he nearly fell forward into disgusting wet something they were all standing in before the plump teen snagged his arm and helped him to his feet in one swift movement.
He was far too used to callous, painful manhandling, that he did not expect to be helped so easily. A simply fluid touch of assistance, and the teen's hand was back to his side, leaving him standing on his own.
His balance was iffy, as his body seemed to still be waking up, but as he flexed his fingers and slowly looked himself over, he found himself to be as he thought he should look. Boots, waist cape, full body coverage. Just the visor of his mask was missing, which was easily mended with darkness.
Though there was no point in it. It would trap the stench of this place in it, and he was more than happy to search for cleaner air.
The sandy blond grinned as he crossed his arms to hide his unease, "So, what's your name? I'm Hayner!"
A small wave, "I'm Olette."
The plump one smiled pleasantly, "And I'm Pence."
He looked between the three of them before slowly nodding, "Vanitas. Now how the hell do we get out here?"
They glanced between one another before Hayner took the lead, "This way. We were gonna go to The Old Mansion outside of town, but you're clearly not from around here, and you look kind of like one of our friends."
He (regrettably) sniffed, "This Sora guy?"
Pence perked up, "Oh, you were awake?" Vanitas didn't say anything to that, merely shrugging as Pence simply nodded, "Got it. So, where're you from?"
Olette shushed him, "You can't ask that, Pence! Donald always talks about the World Order!"
Hayner rolled his eyes as he clasped his hands behind his head, relaxed, "Oh come on, we literally went to Destiny Islands to hang out with everyone! We've been Off-World, can't break the World Order much further than that!"
Olette sighed with a shake of her head as Pence laughed. He looked back to Vanitas. The raven haired boy simply watched, silent and uninterested in the conversation. He glanced at the plump teen, "You mentioned Ven. Is that his name, or is it Ventus?"
Pence blinked as the other two became interested in his question. Pence hummed, "Oh, right. Yeah, Ven's name is Ventus. Why do you ask?"
Vanitas's expression turned dark before pain struck him. He winced and grasped harshly at his hair, groaning as a Memory of some sort tried to manifest, yet stayed behind a heavy cloak of nothingness. He felt a cautious hand on his shoulder. It was Pence's hand, but it was Olette's voice that gently broke through his pain, "What's wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?"
He laughed harshly as that horrible nausea slowly threatened the back of his throat, "I've always been in pain." He winced as he glared up at them, "I've never not been in agony. I'm fine."
But his body didn't Hurt, his emotions stayed bottled up, writhing inside without external release.
He couldn't feel Ventus.
Confusion and terror struck him as he took an abrupt horrified step back. The three pulled away, clearly having better sense than the Guardians of Light?
Vanitas called for his Keyblade, and it answered, humming with a familiar weight as the three nearly jumped at its appearance. Foolishly, the appearance of it calmed them, as they only ignorantly knew of Blades of the Light. He wanted to Hate them for their naivete, yet he could not ignore that they had treated him as his own person, and with an appropriate level of caution and concern. They did not crowd him with talks of friendship and love.
They simply were, and they could not harm him.
He breathed heavily for a moment, to try and shove away the panic before slowly easing his stance. He grit his teeth and swallowed heavily again, trying to push back the tar at the back of his throat before growling, "Don't let your guard down around strangers. I am no friend of the Light."
Olette's eyes widened while Hayner defended himself, "What, were we supposed to leave you in the trash?! You weren't breathing!"
Vanitas recognized then the telltale signs of past fear still lingering on the three. They were brave, ignorant teenagers with too-big Hearts.
Pence made a pacifying gesture while calmly asking, "Alright, alright. I'll give you that. We're a little more… ambitious than most people, and maybe having several friends who Wield Keyblades have made us a little too complacent." He waved a hand towards his Keyblade, "So there are Keyblade Wielders of the Light, and Wielders of..?"
He felt himself instinctively relax for reasons beyond him, "Darkness."
Pence nodded, "I see." He observed the blade within respectable distance, "Kinda makes me think of the King for some reason. Thank you for the information, Vanitas. We'll keep it in mind for the future."
He was thanking him?
Vanitas frowned and dismissed his Keyblade with a nod, "Good."
Hayner sniffed, "Well, I'm done standing around here." He looked at Vanitas, "You got any normal clothes, or is that it?"
Vanitas stared at the teen before shooting a short glance at himself before meeting his eyes, "This is all I have."
Hayner crossed his arms with a contemplative nod, "Right, right, got it. Let's go to my house to get you some new clothes and a shower."
Vanitas felt insult and gratitude at once.
Gratitude!
He took a deep breath and regretted it, the nausea coming right back as he grimaced, "Get me out of this dump."
Hayner chuckled as he resumed walking back towards town, "Right on."
Vanitas still had no idea what World he'd been dumped in.