Set in Disney Town and the Keyblade Graveyard.

VERY IMPORTANT NOTE!
I know I said that the previous Chapter is the last and, in a way, it was.
This is the beginning of an Alternate Ending.
It picks up right from the end of Chapter Two, and begins the same way as Chapter Three.

Why am I doing this?
Well, I put up a Poll asking which Pairing I wrote best and should write more of, and VanitasAqua won by a landslide.
So if you were one of those who voted for that Pairing, you deserve a round of applause since this is kind of your fault. Hahaha!

So, this is dedicated to,Delirious Doll, Lilac Phoenix, eolhcsullivan452
and the other anonymous voters.

I'd really rather have names in the dedication, so if you would be so kind as to let me know who you are, I would greatly appreciate it.
And I would like to know why in the Worlds of KH did you pick VanitasAqua? Hahaha!

I am terribly unprepared for this so I am just...winging it, sort of...
Anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER[I do not own Kingdom Hearts] DISCLAIMER

ESCAPE

A way to break free from destiny…

He walked away from her with a scowl on his face. What happened with Aqua, it meant nothing. It should mean nothing. It meant so much more than it should have. He felt as though his heart no longer belonged to him. It was pounding against his ribcage, trying to escape. Not that he had full ownership of his heart in the first place – it belonged, in a twisted sense, to Ventus. But he had never felt this way before. His heart had never acted so... dissatisfied and rebellious like this, as if it suddenly decided that it no longer agreed with his mind.

And he could not understand.

Clenching his fists, he walked down one street, and another, and yet another, trying to wrest control of the frantic beating of his heart. And because he was looking at his feet the entire time, he had a Ventus moment – smacking right into a pole.

"Damn it!" he groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Who put that pole here?"

It was a stupid question, but he was angry. He kicked it and the entire booth to which it was connected shook a little bit.

"Oh," a duck said, stepping out of the booth to see who had caused the shaking. "Are you here to vote?" she asked nicely.

Vanitas blinked. "Vote?"

"For the Million Dreams Award, silly," the duck said. "You're just in time! I was just about to close the booth! Come on in."

And before he could protest, the duck in the purple dress – which, he noted, was about as disgusting as the pink one the mouse wore – pulled him into the booth. She plopped him down on the only chair in there, separated from the rest of the tiny box with a small partition. Then she gave him a piece of paper and a pen.

"Good thing you came right when you did," she told him. "You're going to be the last voter."

"Wait, who am I supposed to vote for?" he suddenly asked just as the duck was about to turn away. He mentally punched himself for sounding like such an idiot and he wondered if being with Aqua so long made him stupid. Not that Aqua was stupid… Just that she made him so…

He slapped his forehead, frustrated with himself. And he groaned immediately afterwards, because it was still sore from when he hit the pole. Yes, he had definitely become stupid.

"Whoever you want, silly," the duck was answering his question with a smile. And Vanitas thought it was a miracle that she could smile with that giant, yellow bill of hers.

"Whoever I want…" Vanitas mumbled.

"Yes, someone who made your year extra special. Someone who you want to show your appreciation to because of all the good things they've done for you."

Vanitas smirked. He flipped the cap off the pen and wrote. Aqua.

Later that night, Vanitas stood outside the inn where Aqua was staying. He could hear Master Xehanort calling him, the raspy voice resounding in his head. And he knows that if he ignored the call too long, the old man would come find him. But he could not leave, not yet.

He dug the point of his shoes against the ground, frowning, his hand clenched around the plain white handkerchief Aqua had used to cover his wound. He was not entirely sure why he was bothering to return it. No matter how he looked at it, giving it back to her was a waste of time. It clearly held no value to her, because she did not ask for it back before he left her. It was already soiled from being wound around his knee for an entire afternoon. It did not even have any special markings; no lace, no embroidery, no distinguishing mark whatsoever; it was a plain, insignificant scrap of white cloth.

A scrap of cloth that had her warmth… One that had her scent… One that symbolized a moment in time where she cared about Vanitas…

His grip tightened, his knuckles white, as he brought the handkerchief to his lips, breathing in the faint traces of her scent that somehow still remained. Why was he returning it? His mind was violently protesting. But it could protest all it wants; it had no hope of winning. He stepped into the inn.

"Good evening!" the innkeeper greeted warmly, despite the hour being very late. It was already far past midnight. He frowned, though, at seeing that it was a young boy. "Are you lost, son?" came the concerned question.

Vanitas walked right up to the counter, willing himself to ignore the comment, and placed the handkerchief there. "There is a girl staying here; her name is Aqua. This belongs to her."

"Oh!" the innkeeper exclaimed. "Are you a friend of hers?"

Vanitas hesitated, but finally nodded once, very quickly.

"Well, how nice of you to return it," the innkeeper was saying, but Vanitas had already turned to leave. "Hold on, kiddo. I have to get a name to tell her, at least."

"I just need you to give that back to her," he said as he opened the door, flinching at being called a kid. But then he stopped, one foot already out the door. "Actually, there is one thing I need you to tell her." He paused. It was a word he never uses; a word even harder to say than thank you.

"Sure," the innkeeper said. "What is it?"

"Tell her… I'm sorry…"

The following day, Aqua stood among the crowd gathered at the Main Plaza, scanning the faces of everyone around her.

Earlier that morning, the innkeeper told her that a friend of hers had come by late the previous night to return her handkerchief. And at the thought of Van doing something so thoughtful, she had smiled as if nothing was wrong in the world. Then her happiness was only further fueled by the innkeeper telling her that Van had said he was sorry. Did that mean he would come see her today?

She dared to hope, dared to allow her expectations to reach illogical heights, only to be dashed mercilessly against the earth again as her search for her friend proved futile. Nowhere in the crowd could she find that shock of black hair, its spikes defying gravity. There was not a single hint of gold in all the pairs of eyes that were looking at her warmly.

She sighed sadly, her hand over her heart. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking he thought of her as his friend. Did he not want to see her? Was that why he decided to drop the handkerchief off instead of giving it to her personally?

"The Million Dreams Award goes to… Ventus, Aqua, and Terra. All three of you!"

Aqua looked up at the mention of her name, and the names of her friends, a surprised expression on her face. Everyone had begun cheering, and they were all looking at her with happy smiles and grins. But she still could not find that one smirk she really wanted to see.

"Master Xehanort," Vanitas greeted as he walked onto the cracked earth of the Keyblade Graveyard, the midday sun shining harshly overhead. The stooped, old man was standing ahead of him, overlooking the sea of lifeless keys.

"Where have you been?" came the raspy voice, tinted with a hint of annoyance.

Vanitas clawed at the red veins of his suit, his frown hidden behind the mask. He missed his regular clothes already. "Disney Town," he muttered.

"Why?"

"No reason. I thought the place could use a few more Unversed."

Master Xehanort faced his apprentice. "You were ignoring my call."

The boy scoffed. "Just tell me what you want already." He was not in the mood to hang around the old man, or to be interrogated as if he was some kid, and he had no qualms about showing it. It was not as though Xehanort cared to be in his company either or cared about his welfare.

"I believe Ventus is ready," Xehanort said, though his expression held a bit of anger at the lack of respect Vanitas was showing him. "The next phase of our plan can proceed."

Vanitas hated how Xehanort used the word our.It was not theirplan. It was his,and his alone; Vanitas was a mere pawn, a necessary ingredient that the Master would not hesitate to discard if there were a substitute. But Vanitas only mumbled, "Fine." And he turned around to leave.

"A moment, Vanitas," Master Xehanort said. "First, dispose of Aqua."

The boy visibly stiffened. "Why?"

Master Xehanort was unpleasantly surprised that his apprentice questioned his command, something that Vanitas had not done before. And, at noting how the boy reacted, his already wrinkled face was further aggravated by a harsh frown. "She is no longer necessary," he said.

Vanitas scowled. That was how it always was with Xehanort. Outgrow your usefulness, forfeit your life. "But why waste any more time on her?" he asked.

"The girl can prove to be a troublesome interference. Before she becomes a threat to our plans, you must eliminate her."

Vanitas turned around to face the Master, his mask concealing how his face had paled. "I…"

The old man's golden eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

"I doubt she would be any more trouble," Vanitas finished, but his attempt at covering his unwillingness was pointless.

The suspicion in the old man's eyes flared into accusation. "You are defending her," he stated.

"No, of course not."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

Vanitas had no answer. He did not understand it himself. Why keep her alive? Her mere existence tormented him, more so now than ever. He had no need of her, having gotten the answers he sought. He had no future with her, not as a friend, not as a… Not as anything. Why was he protecting her? He knew her for only half a day, and she did not know him at all, not his true self at least. He would be better off with her gone. And yet he did not know what to say or how to explain himself.

Master Xehanort did not wait for an answer, summoning his Keyblade and mercilessly striking his young apprentice without the slightest pause, his expression full of rage. Vanitas fell on his back, dust flying around him as he hit the earth.

"Your obsession with that girl has gone on long enough!" the Master said, sending shocks of lightning through the boy. Vanitas writhed in pain, his agonized scream resounding across the barren landscape. "I overlooked your previous failure, when you claimed she had potential as a substitute for Ventus. But having you defend her yet again is intolerable!"

The torture lasted only minutes, but it seemed hours to Vanitas before Master Xehanort finally stopped. He forced himself onto his knees, his breathing ragged.

"Is this your way of telling me that you have become worthless?" Xehanort said, striking Vanitas again with his Keyblade.

The apprentice summoned his own weapon, his nature giving him the audacity to attempt to fight back. But before he could so much as raise the Keyblade, Xehanort sent yet another rush of lightning through him and his body was overwhelmed by the pain.

"You will kill her, Vanitas," Xehanort hissed, minutes later, when he finally decided that the boy had suffered enough.

Vanitas ripped off his helmet, his golden eyes glaring straight into a pair that mirrored his. His teeth were clenched and from his throat escaped a menacing growl.

"It is a simple choice," Xehanort said, calmer now despite the fury emanating from his apprentice. He dared to smirk at the angered demon glowering up at him, as he said, "Decide. Your life, or hers."

Thank You

~Alacquiene~