[chapter VI]
"You're late."
Informative. Ice-cold. Laced with pure malice.
I blinked several times, and tried to regain my composure. Shock and burning fear replaced the sweet euphoria that Sora had so lovingly placed within my mind, and I took in a shaky breath between clenched teeth. I didn't want to walk any further. I stood several safe feet away, bracing myself for the storm that was brewing within Vanitas. I stared directly at him, begging him silently not to close the thick distance between us.
"You're late."
Again, the razor sharp words cut through the icy air, directly into my body. The sounds of Destiny Islands were softening - the children were in their apartments getting ready for bed and the drunks were in bars, drinking the night away. The homeless quietly huddled together with empty prayers for warmer weather tomorrow. No car alarms, no rushing river water. Just words that shattered Sora's light into oblivion. Moments passed, with a deadly hidden electricity passing between us. Then, a deep sigh.
"Well, I suppose there is nothing I can do now. You will receive punishment later."
Punishment.
His light, carefree tone of the word did not fit it's meaning, nor did it offer me any sort of consolation. I was to receive punishment from a psychotic teenage boy who seemed to have no sense of remorse or sympathy.
I refocused my vision and gazed upon his reclining figure. He wore fitted, neatly pressed slacks and shiny black loafers. I wondered how they could remain so brightly polished in the sludge that surrounded us, but I did not let my mind dwell upon it. A smooth-looking wool peacoat adorned his upper body, and his slender fingers were gloved in black leather. His ebony hair was still as striking as usual, sticking up at every imaginable angle.
He moved sideways, walking towards a car bathed in shadows. He took each stride with an elegant silence, and it boggled my mind that no slush squished beneath those terribly clean loafers. Perhaps he never actually touched the ground, I thought, and merely glided across land, like some sort of demonic spirit or ghost. It definitely matched his personality. I heard the swift sound of a car door opening, and an order:
"Get in."
My mind was being overloaded with possible situations that could occur in that sleek, black sports car and although it was truly horrifying, the crystal-clear words "you don't have a choice" finally appeared, solid as stone. My imagination then ceased it's flurry of thoughts and I felt my legs moving on their own. I slowly made my way towards Vanitas, when he stopped me suddenly by grabbing the fabric of my green sweater violently, and I heard a quiet rip in the seams.
"What the hell are you wearing?!"
He screamed so viciously in my face, although I was more shocked by the fact that he actually cared that much about a sweater, instead of the volume and fury packed within the words themselves.
"...What?"
"What do you take me for, exactly?"
Confusion bombarded my mind, and I could only reply lamely, "What do you mean?"
"You expect to be in my presence looking like an old homeless woman? You look positively disgusting. You don't even look like a girl."
I suppose I was never expecting praise from a person like Vanitas, but it didn't mean the hate and disappointment in his words didn't sting like pouring salt into an open wound. I knew I was not pretty or fashionable, but his words only solidified those horrible feelings weighing down in the pit of my stomach. I screamed at myself mentally, begging not to shed a single tear.
'It's not worth it, Kairi,' I lied, 'Don't cry. You're strong. You can get through this. Please. Don't cry.'
He let go, almost pushing me away, and sighed melodramatically. He then pointed into the dimly lit car, with it's plush leather seat glimmering in the low lighting, beckoning me.
"Get in."
I hung my head in defeat and silently entered the car. I noted, bitterly, that the gentleman had opened the door for me.
'How noble.'
He slammed the door after my entrance and I heard the crunching of the hard, icy slush beneath his pristine loafers. Then the driver's side door opened swiftly and the startlingly cold air pricked my cheeks. I felt his presence to my left and I sunk even lower into the black leather, making an unattractive squelch noise against it. My face flushed in embarrassment and I cleared my throat loudly. I could almost hear the smirk forming on his frighteningly beautiful face.
The car started with a small vibration, and heat blasted from several vents, gracing my frozen face. A look of contentment passed over my worn features, and I felt a moment of serenity. I felt his eyes slowly traveling the length of my flimsy frame and the moment soon passed - I felt jolted back into my bleak reality of being in a car with Vanitas. I finally felt the urge to ask him where we were actually going and took a breath of clean air to begin.
"We're going to the Traverse Shopping district."
I exhaled loudly and glanced back at my apartment building, in all of it's gray and decrepit glory. I frowned deeply.
The car suddenly lurched forward and I was thrust into a high speed vortex, speeding my way past the homeless' bonfires and dull orange streetlights. The surroundings blurred together, cocooning us in odd shapes and colors. I slowly realized I couldn't recognize the streets and buildings and I felt incredibly awkward. The silence was thick and uncomfortable, suffocating me slowly. I blinked several times and tried to remain as calm as possible, wringing my pale hands.
Vanitas didn't speak. It seemed as if he barely moved or even breathed.
'Perhaps he really doesn't require oxygen. He just feeds on negative emotions.'
Then, as swift and elegantly as death, he pressed a button and music flooded the car. A slow, haunting guitar melody floated through the air, incredibly unfitting for his character.
"Where I go, when I go there...no more memory anymore. Only men on distant ships, the women with them swimming with them to shore..."
It was strangely soothing, and I felt my back leaning into the plush leather. The lyrics didn't really make much sense, but the melody rang clear and beautifully. I felt a warm blush color my cheeks while my frown dissipated from my face.
"Touch me just like that. And that, oh yeah, now that's heaven..."
Surprisingly enough, those lyrics really didn't bother me. I almost expected it with dread, my heart feeling like lead. Even if the song perhaps had an some sort of motive, I was perhaps just too exhausted to care. My eyes grew heavy, and I felt myself being lulled into a bizarrely calm slumber. Interestingly enough, I couldn't sense the impending doom aura usually emitted by Vanitas. He just felt...blank. Nothing horrific or threatening oozing from him in the slightest.
As my mind began to glaze over in delirium, I briefly wondered what his eyes looked like. Were they sharp and dangerous, filled with wild hatred and disgust, or were they calm as well, if he ever felt something other than negativity? I wondered if that liquid gold ever became serene, not filled with a boiling orange rage, as frightening as the white-hot intensity of the sun? Did a smile filled with light and actual happiness ever grace his frighteningly flawless features?
My lips tugged downward at these unsightly thoughts. Did I, a slave, actually feel a twitch of compassion for a demon? I immediately squashed the notions and ideas I was feeling in the back of my mind. There was no possible way that could happen.
"Love me, just for a bit. We'll wander down where the winds sigh..."
Peaceful slumber reached my heavy heart, and a small smile of contentment graced my terribly pale, parted lips. I heard the ghostly sounds of a small, melodic sigh coming from my left.
"Where the winds sigh..."
Silence once again filled the car and I lost consciousness. I believed the sigh filled with sadness didn't happen, and my tired mind was just playing foolish tricks on me.
...
The car jolted forward violently, awakening me from my short nap.
"We're here."
I blinked my eyes and moaned softly, my mind still cloudy with sleep. I heard the sharp snort of arrogance, and quickly sat up in attention.
"Get out," he barked with a soft intensity.
I distantly wondered what time it was. I clicked the lock open and exited the car speedily. Vanitas handed the keys over to a man clad in a black suit and gave him a wad of green bills. I mentally glared daggers at him.
The garishly lit streets were crowded with people in thick winter coats moving together in a disjointed mob. The outfits of those lining the neatly paved sidewalks looked quite expensive and designer-made, and I immediately felt uncomfortable and considerably more frumpy in my green, newly ripped (courtesy of Vanitas) sweater. Car horns blared loudly and voices of all ages were shouting in all directions.
"Mommy, I want that!"
"It's not that expensive."
"Do these shoes match my jacket?"
"It's the new model from that designer!"
My mind slowly adjusted to the noise and glaring signs blinking advertisements and new stage shows. Less-wealthy-looking people stood in the massive crowds, distributing fliers and newspapers, screaming at the top of their lungs about sales and shows, bargains and new items. I then saw a massive, modern structure in the distance. It was the most expensive outlet in the entire district, and Vanitas violently grabbed my arm, tugging me along. I flushed an unflattering shade of blue and struggled against him.
"Why are you taking me there," I screamed over the intense hubbub, "I don't really need to go there."
I heard his nasty, arrogant cackle clearly through the frosty night air.
"What the hell are you talking about? Look at you!"
He turned around to face me while walking simultaneously, a brief look of genuine merriment on his face.
"If you expect to be seen with me, you absolutely cannot look like that."
"B-but..."
"Shut up."
The clear glass doors beckoned us, striking yellow light pouring in from the clean and neat insides. I saw rows and shelves filled with colorful clothes, each looking more expensive than the next. I swallowed the intense amount of nervous saliva pooling in the back of my mouth as we crossed through the threshold and into the striking store, women and men rushing to the entrance to greet us.
"Good evening, Mr. Vanitas!"
"Welcome, Mr. Vanitas."
"What do you need help with today, Mr. Vanitas?"
Their eagerness was startling and almost artificial, but Vanitas never faltered in his cool and calm demeanor. He pushed me forward and smirked meanly.
"Fix this."
I twisted my neck backwards as I felt arms and hands grasping for me and clutching my arms.
"W-wait, Vanitas!"
My voice was weak and cracked, fear running through my ice-cold veins. His slender, black outline began growing smaller as I was then thrown into a completely foreign and outrageously glamorous world.
...
"Oh dear, look at how dry your skin is," a thin and heavily dolled up woman quipped as she massaged my cheeks with a slimy lotion. "We'll have to fix that over time. I'll give you this bottle of moisturizer. That should do the job quite nicely."
I sat silently on the black and metal chair, looking directly at her. Her brown eyes were large and cold, heavy mascara coating her long lashes. Her hair was pulled back dramatically in a sleek bun, black strands gleaming in the yellow florescent lighting.
I then felt my hair being viciously detangled from the back and winced harshly in pain.
"Ouch..."
A man in a black suit was the culprit, frowning at the "state of my hair."
"Do you even condition this? And it's such a lovely color. Is it natural?"
I nodded silently.
"This conditioner should bring out the highlights and make it much softer...It's terribly dull currently. Let's take care of those awful dead ends."
I heard the snipping of silver scissors working quickly through my red locks, and my face flushed. I really had no desire to cut my hair, but it looked as if I wasn't even given the choice. Vanitas had the final say, after all. The bun-wearing woman leaned over and began brushing rosy powder over my cheeks and filling in my lips with ruby-red lip stick. I felt as if there was a million pounds of sludge on my face. I tried not to wear an incredible amount of disdain on my newly made face, but it was enormously difficult. I felt the muscles freezing uncomfortably, trying to maintain a neutral expression.
I was then thrown off the chair and into the clothing department, my sweater almost being ripped off my gangly frame. Colors and fabrics swirled in every corner of my vision, price tags gleaming absurd numbers that had too many zeros.
"What," A tall, dark-skinned man began, "is this?"
My face flushed and I cast my gaze downward in shame. In his hand was my sweater.
"Sweetheart, you must never," He threw it into a nearby trash can, "ever wear this again."
I was then whirled around with several dresses being shoved in my face.
"She'd look good in this," one said.
"No, this. It compliments her complexion."
"This is also nice. She has such a small build!"
My head began to spin and it felt as if my body was being pulled in all different directions. I felt nauseous, dizzy, and angry at the situation Vanitas had stuck me into. I felt contempt and hatred for the man who thought I wasn't good enough the way I was, and that I could be cheaply bought with fine things. Although I was never brave or beautiful, I always had a small glimmer of pride within the recesses of my heart, and I felt it being torn into small pieces and stomped upon by gleaming black loafers. My eyes were pinpricked with unshed tears.
A small, black dress was then placed on the crown of my head and pulled downward, clothing me in it's soft fabric. The silk felt exotic and smooth across my skin, my body tingling in the new sensation. I had never felt something so decadent and rich before, and a small hidden smile danced across my face. I touched the skirt gingerly, savoring the material beneath my small fingers.
I then remembered how horrified I was about the situation and how Vanitas viewed me. I felt like a prostitute, being used only for pleasure and selfish desires. Small, ballet-like shoes were placed on my feet, a deep and velvety black color.
"Now," the dark-skinned man rumbled kindly, "go see him. You are ready."
I stepped quietly through the florescent lit aisles and saw his ebony spikes soaring above the horizon. My eyes met pure, incredibly opulent golden eyes that were colored with some emotion I had not seen in Vanitas beforehand. Confusion danced across my mind briefly, until numerous bags and boxes of all shapes and sizes were placed at my sides.
Vanitas strolled toward me, sharp teeth glinting in his cocky smile.
"Well," he drawled, "She can clean up and look passable."
My newly-painted lips curled downward and tears threatened to spill from my lined eyes. A scowl struck across his garishly white face, shadows forming under his sharp features.
"What's that look for? Ungrateful?"
A moment of deadly silence passed between us, and the crowds of workers cleared away, leaving only the two of us.
"Vanitas, I..."
He glared, eyes blazing clearly, pooling with anger.
"I...I can't take this. I don't want it."
A look of pure shock and horror struck his face. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped with hideous beauty, thin, pale lips forming an 'o'.
"What?"
"I don't want it," I stated with a bit more strength.
"Why not?" His quiet voice hid a dangerous and deeply annoyed tone.
"I..I don't want to be bought. You can own me, but...you can't buy me, Vanitas. I don't want any of this."
He slammed his hand against the nearest counter, almost shattering the pristine glass.
"Are you stupid?! There is nothing I can't have. I can buy you! Anything can be bought," he screamed horsely, shaking viciously. I shrunk back in fear.
"What can't be bought," he hissed. "Don't lie."
A newfound courage, almost foreign, flooded hotly through my body.
"You can't buy friends. You can't buy me."
I ran past him and thrust a box holding a small, red, silken shirt into his open arms, and rushed through the glass doors, into the busy frigid night.
I heard his screams echoing behind me, resonating against the cold November air.
"KAIRI, GET BACK HERE. KAIRI..."
Tears poured out of my heavily-lined eyes, and I ran faster and faster.
'Faster away from you, Vanitas. I must get farther away. As far as my legs can take me.'
My vision were blurring, but I saw a glimmer of the sign for the subway in the distance. I saw my haven and my hope flutter violently through my chest, and I felt through my pockets and breathed an exhale of relief to find my wallet and keys still attached to my body. My subway card resided within, and it was my ticket to far, far away. My cheeks were red and smudged, my arms freezing and ruddy from the frozen weather. I bolted down the littered concrete steps with speed I never knew I possessed. The electronic voice filtered through the stale-smelling air underground.
"Next train to Destiny District departing in 4 minutes on track 7..."
Tears continued to slip down my cheeks and I sobbed unattractively in the middle of a densely crowded room under the earth. Stares from those standing near to me barely reached my mind, and in that moment that I boarded that same dirty train with the scratched windows and plastic seats filled with pathetic looking people, I had never felt more alone.
Author's note: Finally! An update. Sorry about the slowness. I was super busy with work and my summer class, and I never got a chance to do ANYTHING! But here it is. I want to thank my awesome reviewers and followers, you guys are lovely. I really appreciate all of you! Now, the next chapter will have intense adult themes. Be warned. Also, the song was from the musical Spring Awakening. Thanks for reading!