Hey all, chapter 7 is here! Hooray! …I think.

Yeah, this is mostly a filler chapter. Mostly.

…Just read it.

Ch. 7: Evicted

If you've got a farther breaking point than me, I commend you. Because there's no way I could handle this kind of shit ever again. Life throwing curveballs at you are one thing, but flinging them nonstop like it was some ball-pitching-machine of death? People have limits; that's why we have designated breaking points!

I honestly don't know how I didn't manage to completely lose my mind after that incident. I'd like to be generous and say that it hadn't been as bad as I'd originally thought it'd be, but that's being too kind to the state of my psyche. My mind had gotten used to crap like this; otherwise I would've lost it. That said way more about me than anything else, really – especially because I kept trying to deny it.

So naturally when I woke up in my bed the next day (actually, I had no idea what time it was; it could've been three in the morning for all I knew because I woke up exhausted), I tried to chalk all that up as some horrible nightmare and that weird encounter with Ven had never happened – I didn't know him, he didn't know me, and everything was right with the world – or as right as it could be in my case. I'd either dreamed him up or that entire conversation with him and some other complete strangers was a figment of my imagination.

Of course, there was no way my flimsy fantasy world would hold for long. There was a knock on the door, and when I refused to say anything, I heard Ven's muffled voice say a couple beats later, "Hey, Vanitas? You in there?"

Goddamn it.

"What do you want?" I snapped irritably. "I'm busy."

"With what?"

For the love of – take the hint, dumbass; I want to be left alone! "None of your business. Get lost."

"Love to, but I can't," he said, his voice sounding almost as irritated as I felt. Was he finally as sick of me as I was of him? Wonderful. "Grandpa made me come here and talk to you."

Of course he'd be the one behind this. Of course.

"The hell does he want us to do?" I grumbled, mostly to myself. "Trying to get us to call a truce or something?"

"Beats me. Can I come in now; I'm getting tired of standing out here."

I sighed deeply. "I don't really have a choice here now, do I? Let's just get this over with."

I then immediately heard the doorknob click and the door creak open and closed slowly, and silence. I could feel Ven's presence in the room; this silence was pretty awkward.

After a moment, he noted in a blunt tone, "Your room is pretty empty."

I felt a twinge of exasperation, but I managed to curb it before it could show. It was probably prejudiced of me, but this guy probably had a room bigger than this entire house. He just commented on my room like he was some sort of professional bedroom critic.

"You don't really pay much attention to décor when you're blind, genius," I said stiffly. "It's not like I have anything I want to see here anyway. Plus, safety from the products precedes aesthetics so I don't accidentally skewer myself on the corner of a desk or something."

"Oh, uh…I guess that's true," he said sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

That was a quick change in countenance. "Forget about it. So, what did our old man want us to talk about?"

"Not sure, really. All he said was that we should…get acquainted." He said that like he was using air quotes. Wish I could've seen it. "He wants us to get to know each other better, I guess, since I'll be staying here for a while."

Oh, just wonderful; I've just gotten myself a new roommate! I really wish sarcasm could be better expressed through words; I'm pretty proud of that one. You should've heard me say it.

"So, what. You gonna start living with us or something?" I asked suspiciously. "You're moving in on us?"

Ven scoffed. "It's better living in that over-the-top death trap."

Okay, then…I took that as a confirmation. "Should I be flattered?"

"Very funny," Ven said snidely. "But you know we can't exactly go around ignoring each other while living together, right?"

"Yeah, I get that," I interrupted, "but that doesn't change the fact that we're still strangers to each other. I know we're cousins, but it's still too weird to think about right now – that's half the reason I even came in here."

"You're wondering whether or not you should be nice to me?"

Well…he was half-right. The other half was wondering whether I was insane or not for wondering that very thing. "Oh, shut up," I snapped. "This world doesn't revolve around you."

"So? It's not like it's revolving around you instead."

I wanted to strangle this guy so bad; you have no idea. It's a miracle in itself that I managed to stay lying down. I didn't know if it was my fate to make everyone else look smarter by acting like a complete moron, but there has to be a line drawn somewhere. Right?

I sighed in annoyance. "Okay, fine. I'll bite. Was there something in particular you wanted to say to me?"

"Well, I figured that I should start with the obvious one," he said, his voice moving to the edge of my bed along with the scraping of wood against carpet – he was dragging a chair to my bedside. "What's it like being blind?"

Well, yeah; this is just perfect. Do let us start with one of the topics I want to avoid the most. It only makes logical sense since other people don't know about it and are curious, right? It doesn't matter how the blind one feels about telling; the truth just needs to get out there, so ask away with reckless abandon!

"Well," I said at last in a begrudging tone, "it's not fun. I'll tell you that."

"Can you see shapes, at least? I've read that blind people aren't always completely blind and they can at least see something."

"No idea." This was the honest truth. I never really thought about trying to see anything when my world was already so dark, so I never noticed whether I could make out shapes. I just always assumed that I couldn't since I couldn't even see color. "How does that even work?"

There was a pause, like Ven was thinking about what to say. Then he answered, "From what I know, there are different types of blindness. There are some that don't let you see color, so all you see is in black and white, or just completely black or white. There are others that don't let you see shapes, and others where everything is blurred to the point that you can't recognize either of them."

"You seem well-versed in this kind of thing." No kidding. This kid was sounding like he was reading out of some neurology textbook.

"I did some research earlier."

"How? We don't have computers."

"There are these things called encyclopedias, Vanitas. Computers aren't the only source of information out there."

"Sorry, had no idea. Can't read them, being blind and all."

"Well ha, ha," he said in a mocking voice, but he quickly sobered up. "But seriously, that's the truth. I'm just wondering what kind of blindness you've got. Because eyes only let in color; it's the brain that processes what you see."

Now that he mentioned it, I was pretty curious, too. Blindness was a pretty broad term, after all. I probably had been too busy wallowing in this misfortune of mine to really care what kind of blind I was. I couldn't see; therefore my life sucked. That had basically been my thought process for the past fifteen years – for as long as I could remember ever since being able to think on my own. So I had to admit that it would be kind of interesting to know.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that I'm not colorblind," I said, raising my hand and holding it above where I knew my face was. "Everything's dark to me."

"Guess that makes sense. You did say that interior design didn't really matter to you since you can't see them."

"Yeah," I said as I lowered my arm. "Though…I can't really make out shapes, either. There's nothing weird about that, is there?"

"Um…I don't think so. Everything's completely black to you?"

"Everything."

"Huh…guess that means you're just one of the unlucky ones and you just can't make out anything."

"Couldn't have figured that one out on my own," I commented with a bit more sarcasm than I'd intended.

"In that case…can you tell where I am?"

"Easy," I said, turning my head in the direction of his voice. "You're right next to my bed, a couple feet away. A bit farther down so you're not close to where my head is."

"Oh…you're right," he said, sounding completely nonplussed like he didn't expect me to answer so quickly. "So you can tell my position, huh…"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, didn't you ever stop to think about how you could tell stuff like that?"

"Not really."

"It's because your brain is seeing everything for you. That's how."

I laughed. "You make me sound like I'm some kind of mutant."

"Well, it's definitely cool enough to call it a superpower," Ven chuckled in response. "Basically, you're blind, but you can still see."

"Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense. You know I can just tell where you are by the sound of your voice, right?"

"Hmm…okay, I guess that was kind of a bad example. Let me put something on the bed for you. Move over a bit."

Curiosity moved me to the left side of the bed. I was curious to know what he was going to do now to test my so-called "sight". I then felt slight pressure on two points on my bed sheet right in front of me. One felt slightly heavier.

"Okay, I put them down. Now pick up the lighter one."

I felt like some lab rat, but I decided not to say anything. I moved my hand to the point on my bed with less pressure. It was long and thin, with a smooth texture. A pencil.

"Now what?" I asked, turning the pencil around in my fingers.

"What'd you leave on the bed?"

"I'm guessing that it was an eraser," I said, holding up the pencil. "Because of the weight it was putting on my bed, the high friction, plus how much of my bed it was taking up. I went for this pencil because it was lighter and didn't take up as much space."

"Well, there you go."

The pencil froze in my fingers, and I could feel the dumbfounded expression on my face. "That's it? Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. That's all there is to it."

"You can't be for real. It didn't feel like I was doing anything different from what I normally do."

"That's only because you've been doing it this entire time," Ven explained. "You just never thought about it as seeing until now."

Well, I'll be damned. I never did say this to his face, but Ven had a really neat way of telling people things sometimes. And at some points, I sort of wish I did, but I could never bring myself to. He showed me that I wasn't completely blind. Sure, it was only in a small way, but it was a huge deal for someone like me.

"Okay, that's pretty cool," I admitted. "So it's not all just in the eyes, huh?"

"Nope."

"You know, Ven; you can be pretty smart when you want to be. Sometimes."

"Coming from you, I can't tell if that's a compliment or not."

"Take whatever makes you feel better," I suggested, putting the pencil down next to the eraser. "Either way I'm still making fun of you."

Ven was immediately offended. "Hey, not cool, man. C'mon, who says that?"

"You don't know me very well if you're asking me that."

Ven sighed heavily next to me. "You're such a jerk."

I couldn't help but laugh at the petulant tone in which he'd said it. "You're being too nice," I chortled, palming my face in amusement. "No one's ever called me that before."

"Being called a jerk is a compliment to you?" he asked me incredulously.

"Yep. I'm usually called worse." I raised my head slightly, feeling a wistful smile escape. "Trust me."

"Aren't you ever bothered by it?" he asked. "I mean, isn't that basically bullying?"

"Nah," I dismissed with an absent wave of my hand. "That's not it. It's more like retaliation for the sake of the pride that they never had."

"The heck does that mean?" he asked confusedly.

"The short version? I make people look stupid, and they hate me for it."

"Wait a second…" Ven sounded like he was having a hard time accepting what I was saying. "Are you saying that…you're the bully here?"

A chuckle escaped me sounding like a derisive snort. "Yeah. I guess you can say that."

I probably lost a whole bunch of credibility points with the guy the minute I confirmed that yes, I was the bully, not the other way around. Seems kind of backward, because it's usually the not-normally-functioning people the ones getting backlashed. Honestly, though; I have to admit that it was kind of refreshing admitting that to somebody. It made me feel as if I wasn't some hopeless deadweight despite being blind without actually doing anything productive. Also, people nowadays are just so easy to insult. Every little negative remark is an insult. And since I was naturally good at that, I thought… why the hell not just run with it.

The best part? My being blind meant that if anyone tried to retaliate, it would be seen as unfair abuse against the disabled and they would suffer horrible repercussions. That meant that I got to humiliate people to hell and back without any major consequences. Lucky me! Still, something like that wasn't really going to sit well with Ven.

Only he decided to surprise me with the gall to remark, "Wow. Nice going." in an impressed tone that betrayed no sarcasm. It took me a minute to realize he wasn't joking, and another one to actually believe I'd actually heard it right.

"Really?" I asked blankly after a while, just to be sure.

"Yeah," he confirmed, his voice somewhat breathless in what I assumed was approval. "That's pretty cool."

"You know…I didn't think you'd really be happy after hearing that," I said, tilting my head in confusion. "Am I missing something here?"

"It's just, well…I usually just assume that the one getting bullied here would be you, since you're blind and everything," he chuckled. "But here you are telling me that you routinely show people who's boss even though you're the disabled one. You get major points from me for that."

I know I've probably said this a million times already, but I'll reiterate out of pure necessity: Goddamn was this kid unpredictable. He was in a sense both stupidly easy and ridiculously challenging for me to put down with words. Then again, I probably should've factored in the fact that this kid was a rebel himself since he was effectively a habitual runaway child. This world just refuses to stop screwing me over.

I was at a loss for words. The best I could manage was, "Uh…thanks?"

"You're welcome," he answered breezily. "Do you do that with Grandpa, too?"

I scoffed derisively. "Don't I wish," I grumbled. "The man has a hundred and one ways to make me look like a complete dumbass without even trying."

"Aww. That really sucks." He didn't sound like he was joking, either. I just couldn't understand him. "I really want to see what the look on his face would be if he ever got the short end of an upstaging, since it's never happened before."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd enjoy that very much," I said. I didn't mean to sound sarcastic, but I guess my habitual tone of voice just carried over without me noticing. Stuff like this could become second-nature, apparently. Besides, sight was a sense so taken for granted that numerous visual puns cropped up over time. A countless number of them. It wasn't like I could really escape that, but the lifelong bitterness always left some sort of residue.

"Sorry, really," he apologized. "It's really hard not to spit those analogies out. It's just too commonplace for us not to."

"Nah, that one is my fault. I really should've been used to that by now."

"So you're admitting that you've been bitter."

I extended my cane and smacked him with it. "Shut up."

"Ow!" he complained. "Why the head, Vanitas? That was uncalled for!"

"It's the easiest to reach."

"Yeesh." I heard the chair scoot away a couple feet, out of the range of my cane from my position. "Give me some credit; I did help you with the blindness thing."

"Yeah, well, I don't remember asking for it. You're the one who offered."

I heard Ven exhale sharply in frustration. "Man, you're cold."

"That's nothing new."

"Look," he huffed, "I know I'm the one who offered, but aren't you the one who accepted? You can't get all high and mighty to me about that, because you didn't reject my offer."

Seriously, how did this kid twist around and find all these weak chinks in my arguments? It was completely unfair. Was this universe ever going to stop yanking my chain? I mean, really.

I turned on the spot and fell backward onto my pillow. "Okay, fine," I sighed wearily. "You win. I surrender. Can I stop looking like an idiot now?"

"Sure you can. No one is forcing you to look stupid."

"Don't push it," I muttered. "Look, can we just move on? We've been talking about the same thing for about twenty minutes."

"Sorry," he said, and he sounded sincere this time. "Well, I've got another question for you, anyway."

"Oh, yeah? And that would be…?" Surely it couldn't be as bad as the whole "what's-it-like-being-blind" question.

"What do you do in your spare time?" he asked. "Just wondering what you do for fun, since your options are…kind of limited."

…And that was pretty much asking the same question as he did before. Yeah, what's it like being blind, indeed.

"Music and reading," I said absently. "And sitting out in the backyard wondering why my life has to suck so badly. That's about it."

"You read?" I would've forgiven him for that sooner if he hadn't sounded so skeptical. Of course I could read; hadn't this kid heard of Braille?

"Why's that so surprising?" I asked, thoroughly annoyed.

"Don't get me wrong or anything; it's just…" Ven sounded like he was stifling laughter now. "…I don't know; you don't seem like the type to just sit around and read books."

"Oh, very funny. You think that just 'cause I'm some sourpuss I don't like to kick back and read a book every once in a while, huh?"

"Hey, I didn't say that," he protested, quickly sobering up. This guy…I swear he was bipolar or something. "Sorry, really. I didn't mean anything rude by it; honest."

I sighed. "Whatever," I said, resting my forearm against my eyes. "Forget it."

I couldn't believe I actually had to start living with him now. I was worn out already and it had only been a day (as far as I could tell, anyway). I needed to get used to this guy quick, or I'd be running myself ragged every freaking day. Maybe it was my lack of an active social life talking, but this kind of interaction I was definitely not cut out for.

"Still," Ven said quietly, surprising me slightly, "it's not really fulfilling living that way, is it?"

My heart skipped a couple beats at his sudden words. Is he seriously getting philosophical on me? I thought wildly.

Why? Why was he bringing this up now? Besides the whole blind issue, this was the thing I liked to dwell upon the least! I'd already deduced that I couldn't accomplish anything meaningful thanks to my impairment, so I didn't try and make myself miserable with the inevitable rejections and failures that I would suffer if I chose to defy that future. I was bitter enough about this issue alone; he didn't need to go and bring something like this up in casual conversation! I couldn't amount to anything since I was blind, so why bother trying? It would be fulfilling enough to be able to live some sort of life, even if it wasn't extravagant. That was what I'd figured.

…

But now, I didn't know what to think.

"What're you getting at?" I demanded, my words coming out unprecedentedly harsh as I sat up in order to retaliate. "Are you telling me that I'm wasting my life?"

"That's a really bleak way of putting it," Ven said in a tone I couldn't place. "But if that's the way you see it…then yeah. You are."

"How could you even…" My head was all kinds of scrambled. That was the first time I'd ever heard somebody say that directly to my face – that I didn't have a life worth living. If I was somebody more mature, then I wouldn't have taken this at face value, but as it stood right then, I was far from mature. "Who says that? Who the fuck says that?!"

"Well, you said it," Ven countered. "Not me."

"I can't believe you. Gramps sent you in here to talk to me about random shit and now you're calling me some life-less loser?!"

"Again," he repeated with a put-upon sigh, "you said it, not me."

I had no argument against him, but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. I was too pissed to think about other options. "Shut up. Just shut the hell up."

"Listen, I'm just trying to say that you have more choices than this," he argued. "You've got talents of your own that you can use. I don't what they are, but I'm sure you have them."

"And a vaguely worded compliment like that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"It should…unless you've lost all hope in yourself already. Then I don't know what I can do to help you."

"Help me?" I echoed incredulously. "You?"

"And why's that so surprising?" he asked me, his voice unnervingly even. "We're family, aren't we?"

It was borderline phenomenal that I hadn't kicked this guy out of my room yet. There might've been some part of me that wanted a better life that kept him around, but who was to say?

"But we're still practically strangers," I protested, but that sounded like a feeble argument, even to me. There was now a disturbingly clear reason why my old man sent this kid in to talk to me.

"Don't give me that crap again," Ven said flatly. "Why do you think I'm here, anyway? It's not just to make you mad; I'm trying to help."

Well, that half was working pretty well; thank you very much. I'm not so sure about the other part.

"Vanitas, I'm your cousin," he went on, "and even before that, you're the first friend my age that I ever had. I won't let you go out like this. You deserve more than what you've got."

I could feel my palms getting sweaty. God, this was starting to feel more and more like a sappy soap opera. Next thing I knew, my grandpa was going to get hit by a stray bullet from a random cop and leave me homeless, or I would find out that I was a bastard child that never should've been born. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if either happened by this point.

"Tell me, then," I challenged heatedly. "How exactly are you going to help? What can someone like you do for me?"

"Believe me, I've got connections." I suddenly felt the familiar crushing grip of Ven's hands as he grabbed my shoulders. He was close; I could feel it. His breathing tickled my cheeks, and he wouldn't let me back away.

"I'll be your eyes, Vanitas," he said firmly. "If you can't see the world yourself, don't be afraid to ask someone else to do it for you." His grip on my shoulders tightened so much I wanted to yell at him in complaint, but I couldn't find my voice. "If you end up losing an arm or a leg, ask for a new one. If you happen to contract cancer, don't you dare let up on the treatments. I don't care if you end up having to go through hell and back again – if you ever so much as even think about giving up on yourself under my watch, you will be sorry. You hear me?"

His words were too full of conviction for me to refute, and I was left dumbstruck for a good half of that hour.

It feels ridiculously stupid to say this, but…after that day, everything changed.

…I'm losing my edge, aren't I? Yeah. Yeah I am.

Even so, this is a pivotal chapter in the story, even if it is stupidly short for its current standards and ridiculously dialogue-driven. DIALOGUE IS IMPORTANT, GUYS. (And there wasn't much I could do with internal monologuing anyway since this is a conversation between two people and one is blind; see I have an excuse *shot*)

Ahem. Anyway, sorry for the huge delay. I am lazy; I will admit that, and having six stories running while being fully aware of that fact has severely hindered my update speed. I hope that you guys will forgive me. And even on top of that laziness I have school…

I hope this chapter was enjoyable for you and you got to relate to Vanitas and Ventus more. Things are gonna get interesting from this point on. See you guys next chapter whenever it happens!