Terra hadn't been alone on that landing, Ven realized after Vanitas slammed his door inches off his face. Ienzo and his roommate, Lauriam—who Ventus hadn't even met yet—were both there too, about to head down for breakfast. They didn't say a word in the elevator, but by the time Ventus was done eating, everyone in the residence seemed to know his name.
Ventus Enix. The heir to X-Blade Industries.
He wasn't sure why it even mattered. All in all, he hadn't even had a proper plan to hide his identity. And yet, he couldn't help but feel angry that people were now coming to talk to him—after basically ignoring him until now.
The change was almost immediate, and Ventus couldn't help but be reminded of what Vanitas had told him. Most relationships were built on reputation, and Ven had suddenly been catapulted from having none to being one of the most notorious names in the residence.
He did his best to keep himself contained during breakfast, but as soon as he could, he retreated back to his room and curled up on his bed. When his emotions finally broke free, it was with tears and choked screams of frustration. He felt ridiculous, above all else—for even trying, and for being surprised by the change his name had caused. Maybe, by keeping his name a secret at all, he had made things worse, drawn even more attention to himself.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his misery. "Can I come in?" Terra asked through the door.
Ventus wasn't sure what to make of him asking to come in his own room. Wiping his tears, he forced himself to stand and go open the door. "It was open," he pointed out, surprised at how hoarse his own voice sounded.
"Yeah, but—maybe you wanted some time on your own."
Ventus wasn't sure if he did, but he didn't really feel like being on his own if it meant breaking down and crying again. He silently walked away from the door, leaving it open behind him, and went straight to lie on his bed again.
He heard Terra walk in after a moment of hesitation. "I'm not the one who told everyone."
"Uh, yeah, I know." Ven stared at Terra. "We were together the whole time were were downstairs for breakfast."
"I mean—I wouldn't have told anyone anyway. You must have had your reasons to keep it to yourself."
It sounded like a question, but Ventus didn't feel like explaining himself. He just lay there, motionless, his eyes closed.
The rest of the day went by in a haze. Before Ventus knew it, Monday rolled around, and with it, classes began.
It was a welcome distraction—for Ventus, and for the rest of the residence, too. He knew that word of who he was had spread as soon as he stepped into an auditorium for the first time, but while people stared and whispered, they had to pay more attention to calculus than to him. As long as he snuck out as soon as class was dismissed, he could avoid any awkward encounter with people who just really happened to want to make friends with him.
That strategy worked all the way into Tuesday afternoon, as his second Economics lecture drew to a close. He slipped away as he'd always done before, but a boy ran after him and caught up with him in the hallway.
"Hey, man!" he greeted Ventus, with the same familiarity he'd use if they were already friends. "Really sucks that you have to deal with all these leeches trying to get a favor out of you. I know the feeling."
Ventus stared at him, skeptical. He was a redhead, and the typical jock archetype—the stance, the unearned confidence, complete with a green letterman jacket from what Ventus assumed was his high school. He was a little too lean for what Ven usually thought of as a football player, but maybe he played some other sport. Ven wanted nothing less than to talk to him.
"I don't know what you mean," he said, coldly, and he resumed walking towards his next class—Biology lecture. Being told of how transparent he was didn't improve his mood. He didn't want to harm X-Blade Industries' image by looking like he was callous, or a shut-in—he just didn't want to deal with people until the novelty of his presence at DSU wore off. He'd thought, by leaving early, he'd just look busy.
The guy scoffed. "I'm Peter. I'm a sophomore, and I'm in Chi Gamma Nu. We were thinking—"
"I'm…not interested in joining a fraternity," Ventus cut him off. He hadn't actually made up his mind on the subject—until now. Something in this upfront attempt at recruiting him felt like he was a prize being hunted. And perhaps, to these fraternities, he was. It was all politics, in the end. At least his own parents hadn't been part of a fraternity, so he didn't have that pressure going on. "At least not for my first semester. Thanks, though."
He tried to walk away, but Peter kept up with him, matching his increased pace easily.
"You sure? It's a great opportunity to make friends. Important friends."
Ven glared at him, but gave himself a moment to breathe before answering. As if I needed 'important' friends, he wanted to say. Instead, he managed to remain calm. "I just want to meet people without committing to anything first, you know?"
"You can always back out later. It's just better if you join a frat in your first semester, so you get the full experience."
"Look, I'm not—"
Ventus froze mid-sentence. They were just outside the auditorium where his Biology lecture took place; and right there, by the door, talking to the woman Ventus assumed was Professor Merryweather, was Vanitas. He looked at ease with himself, and the professor talked to him with a familiar fondness. As Ven watched them, they laughed together at something Vanitas had said.
"Hey, you okay?" Peter asked, snapping Ven out of his shock.
"Yeah, sorry. Look, I'll think about it, all right?" It was probably the best—or the only—way to get Peter to drop it without actually agreeing to join his fraternity. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past him. Behind him, he heard Peter mutter something about needing his phone number, but Ventus ignored him, focused on trying to slink into the auditorium without Vanitas noticing. For good measure, he tried to find an empty seat right near the middle of the auditorium, hoping the crowd of other students around him would help him hide. Surely Vanitas wouldn't be the kind of student to mingle.
But when Professor Merryweather entered the auditorium, and Vanitas came in along with her, he didn't head towards the seats at all. Instead, he remained at the front of the auditorium, leaning back against the speaker's desk and gazing at the students with a cocky smile. He didn't give Ventus any specific attention, but whether he hadn't noticed him or just didn't care, Ventus wasn't sure.
It was hard for Ventus to pay attention to Professor Merryweather introducing herself and her Biology 101 class. He kept glancing at Vanitas, wondering what he was doing there, why he hadn't acknowledged Ventus—what would happen if he did. It felt unfair, that Vanitas could just go on ignoring Ventus, as though he hadn't revealed Ventus's identity and made his college experience that much lonelier as a result.
Hearing Vanitas's name mentioned by the professor snapped him to attention. "My usual teaching assistant is on maternity leave, and will be for most of the semester. While we were preparing to find her a substitute, I received a most interesting application. Class, meet your TA for Biology 101—" she waved at Vanitas, "Vanitas Ansem."
Vanitas didn't move from where he was against her desk; he simply waved at the class, half-sarcastic, half-disinterested.
"Mr Ansem is one of a kind. I know he's the same age as most of you, but I've read his paper on correcting hormonal imbalance, and believe me when I say this: he is more than qualified to teach the lot of you. As you probably know by now, Biology labs are on Fridays morning, and Mr Ansem will be in charge of those. I will be supervising as well, since Mr Ansem is not a graduate student, but I will ask you to treat him like you would any other TA."
There was a murmur across the students—some impressed, obviously knowing Vanitas by reputation, others more shocked or suspicious. Professor Merryweather ignored them all; she moved to the next slide of her Powerpoint presentation, and began her lecture proper without so much as a transition.
Ventus considered trying to talk to Vanitas for the entire lecture, but at the end of class, Vanitas and Professor Merryweather left together, robbing Ventus of a say in this.
It was probably for the best. What was there even to say? Ventus couldn't picture himself explaining what Vanitas had done to him exactly, what it meant, and so talking to him felt pointless. All he could hope now was that Vanitas being the TA for one of his classes wouldn't be a problem for his grades. He could always drop out and take the class again another semester, when the regular TA was back, but Ventus didn't want to quit a class at such an early point in his curriculum.
However, after an evening of torturing himself, the subject mostly slipped his mind over the course of the next day. There was too many new things to think about, too many classes to get used to, to spend all his time worrying about Vanitas. And at the residence itself, Ventus never saw him around anymore. He didn't even care to wonder why; it was just as well.
On Thursday, Ventus felt like he was settling into a rhythm at last. He was at his third lecture in both calculus and physics, and he wasn't lost in either subject yet, which he thought was a good sign. Over lunch, he'd started meeting with Terra and Aqua every day. Aqua, he found out, was a computer engineering major. She had been accepted for an internship at Departure Softwares, a tech spin-off of X-Blade Industries, and was planning to pursue a Master's in artificial intelligence the next year. This was all a relief to find out; Aqua didn't strike him as the type of woman who would need nepotism to go places, and there was little more she could ask of him as Ventus Enix, he hoped.
That day, the three of them lingered for a while at lunch, since none of them had classes early in the afternoon. When finally Ventus had to leave he felt more relaxed than he had at any point since the start of the week. So much so that, he soon realized, he was about to be late to his Spanish class.
He ran the rest of the way, slipping into the classroom at the last minute. Like most language courses at DSU, Spanish was taught in small classrooms, in groups of fifteen to twenty students rather than large auditoriums. When Ventus came in, only one seat was free at the back of the room.
And in the seat next to it, sat Vanitas.
Ventus hadn't even noticed him at first, too busy apologizing profusely for being late—even though, as the teacher pointed out, he wasn't actually late, and it was fine, and would he please just sit down so they could start already. It was only when he turned to find a seat that he saw him, and briefly froze. To his surprise, Vanitas was gaping back at him, looking equally distressed to see him.
It took every ounce of Ventus's self-control to go sit down, but their eyes remained locked on one another as he walked. Even after he sat down, he couldn't help but glance at Vanitas—and found that Vanitas was just staring at him.
And then, something even stranger happened. As the class unfolded, something became painfully obvious to Ven: Vanitas, certified genius, was absolutely horrible at speaking Spanish.
Not just new to the language; if anything, he had clearly tried to learn before. But his conjugation was never correct, his pronunciation was horrendous, and whenever the teacher, Professor Trepe, asked him a question, he stared at her, looking like a deer in headlights, and stuttered on every word of his answer.
It wasn't even that Ventus felt a sense of enjoyment to see him fail at something—it was more shocking than anything else. Vanitas might as well have been a different person in this classroom.
When class ended, he could see Vanitas crumbling into his chair a little, as if the tension was physically leaving his body. He couldn't help but linger for a moment—until Vanitas looked up at him with a cold, ferocious glare. That look sent him retreating out of the classroom, wondering what he'd just witnessed.
