Vanitas' mind and body were often so spent during the week that by Sundays, he only wanted to hole up in his room and read. But the prospect of exploration invigorated him. It was chilly, so he wore a dark grey overcoat before setting out.
The sky was still somewhat dark, but the visibility was enough to see. Two guards kept watch. One walked through the white stone paved path, nodding to Vanitas in greeting. The other paced atop a balcony, rifle at his back.
Immediately in front of him was a low fountain and short hedge wall. Flowers of every kind surrounded it and he walked to the path leading right. Shrubs and bushes of colorful flora littered the sides of the path, with perfectly cut grass just behind. A table with a large parasol sat in the center. Walking closer, Vanitas took note of the small stone fountain that was inactive.
Further down the path was what appeared to be an arboretum, and a greenhouse closer to it. It was no wonder everything was so fresh. Multitudes of fruits and vegetables were currently unripe, but it appeared Xehanort had everything grown at the manor. Vanitas retraced his steps back and followed a different path to the left. The statues he spotted were graves. The plot of grass had the most flowers around it. A stone knight with a helm in the shape of a goat's head stood proud above two slabs of marble marked with gold names. Vanitas supposed he'd also be buried somewhere in this yard.
He took another look around and listened to the fountain in the distance and early morning birds chirping. At least it was a nice, quiet place.
Crossing back to the middle path, he looked up to the giant tree at the yard's center and beyond it the gazebo. Vanitas figured he would go there last given how far away it was.
Another grave was set in its own plot of green and Vanitas ignored it for the pond a few yards away. He could see fish swimming within, also likely to be eaten at some point.
Five minutes of walking brought him to the servant's house and he watched as a few maids exited the front door to begin a day of work. The sight of Vanitas startled them and they quickly curtsied.
"Good morning young master!" they fumbled and quickly walked in the direction to the manor.
Curiously, he walked around to the back of the house and found lines of laundry well out of view from the manor, and a young maid hunched over a washing board, scrubbing what looked like a particularly stubborn stain.
The movement of him walking caught her eye and she nearly dropped the article into the water of the wood basin. Brown hair tied into two neat braids, bright green eyes.
"Omlette."
The girl was silent for several seconds and her posture dropped significantly.
"Young Master, my name is Olette."
"Right." Vanitas might not even remember by the end of the day. "How many of you stay here?"
Olette resumed her scrubbing and talked as she worked.
"Eighteen of us. The ladies quarters are on the first floor, and the men are in the second."
Vanitas looked at the windows and size of the house. It must have been as tight packed as the orphanage or close.
"Rather small for that many people."
"It can feel that way sometimes. But as long as we think of ourselves as one big family, then we pull through."
Vanitas began walking towards the back door entrance and Olette made a strange noise.
"Oh, wait! Young Master, you can't!"
Vanitas turned back, one eyebrow raised.
The stained cloth had temporarily been given up on as the girl wiped her hands on her apron and stood.
"I mean, you shouldn't. You're- well. You're above us."
Her eyebrows were furrowed and she looked almost scared. Vanitas shrugged.
"Well since I'm above you, then you can't stop me."
The startled squeak she made was kind of funny. Vanitas crossed the threshold and observed the interior. Olette was fumbling for a way to get him to reconsider but he ignored her. Immediately he stepped into a kitchen with a long table and two benches. The few servants eating their breakfast choked or seemed unable to cope with the mere idea that Vanitas would enter their home.
Olette quickly explained the situation and attempted to stand in front of Vanitas. He brushed her aside by her shoulder and she sighed, realizing he was not going to leave.
For such humble living, it was still nice.
Vanitas silently admired that each of the two bedrooms held two sturdy bunk beds. No one needed to sleep in a creaking cot or share. Most of the staff was already up and moving so the ladies rooms were empty.
"If this is just for servants, where do the guards stay?" he asked, waiting for Olette to give him the clear to go into the wash room. That was one place she would not budge from the entrance to.
"They have their own rooms in the manor as well as the head chef, and Sir Braig."
A nervous maid curtsied and hurried to the direction of the back door.
Steam dampened Vanitas' skin as the door to the room was opened completely. Olette was beet red in the face as he stepped inside and observed the multiple showers. A pang of jealousy hit him and he wasn't sure why. True, he had moved on from the orphanage, but it was just so luxurious in comparison.
Going upstairs, Olette seemed hesitant to follow but bit her lip and kept moving. The men's quarters were exactly the same and he could see how so many people could fit into a single home.
Satisfied, Vanitas headed to the front door and cringed at the sudden burst of sunlight.
"Thanks for the tour." He casually tossed back.
"It was my pleasure." Olette mumbled out, seemingly ready to drop to her knees on the spot.
Following the central path, Vanitas headed to his last stop, the gazebo. The walk was likely ten minutes.
The octagon pavilion was raised on a platform of stone and drapes were tied open to its posts. At the center was a chess table and two benches with plush seating.. From here, he could see the forest at the edge of the open field. The gazebo was farther from the rush of the fountain, and the sound of just nature were all the more prominent.
Yeah, a nice place to be buried.
"Damn beast, where are you?!"
Vanitas' head whipped in the direction of the voice and he saw one of the guardsmen jogging in his direction. Something black darted past the pavilion and the guard stood straight, looking around. Whatever it was, he seemed bent on finding it.
"Young Master, have you seen a cat by chance?"
So that's what it was.
"No." he lied.
The guard wiped his gloved hand across his face.
"Nothing but trouble. They seem to be drawn to the plants here like locusts."
The guard grumbled to himself and bowed, turning around to search elsewhere.
Vanitas walked in the direction he saw the thing run and it froze when Vanitas spotted it. Lowering himself to a squat, he reached out his hand.
The cat's eyes flickered at the movement but it stayed still.
Locking eyes, Vanitas didn't move either.
"T." he pressed his lounge to the roof of his mouth and released.
"T.T."
"Mraower…" it responded, quietly.
The exchange went back and forth. Vanitas wasn't sure what it was saying, but it was certainly trying to communicate.
Faster, Vanitas ticked, experimenting with different frequencies as though turning the dial on a radio until something clear came through.
Somewhere in their conversation, the cat deemed whatever Vanitas ticked as sign of good will and approached. It sniffed the tips of his fingers for several seconds, and rubbed its head against his palm.
"You must be tired if you ran all the way across the yard. But I can relate to a scary man chasing me."
The cat looked up to him. Pitch black pupils stood contrasted by white sclera. It was small, and looked to be a kitten.
When Vanitas scratched it on its forehead, it purred loudly.
He was going to keep it.
Vanitas normally never sought out Xehanort so he sat and waited with the bundle of black fur in what was formerly a maid's apron. If Braig was Xehanort's primary servant, then Omelet was now his. The way her resolve melted as his command was pretty funny. He'd instructed her to get a specific book from the library in his room, and she did. Her brown bangs clung slightly to her forehead as she had to traverse all the way to the top floor and back. The stain had refused to come out in the end and Vanitas waited on a bench with his new companion until it dried. He took it and wrapped Void inside.
The cat's eyes were like an abyss threatening to suck him in, so the name stuck.
Knowing the man wouldn't be too happy about being disturbed, he waited with Void in a love seat next to the hall leading to the basement.
Before Xehanort could speak Vanitas stood.
"I'd like a book on taking care of him."
The older man was silent at the immediate request and looked down to the cat.
"If it scratches the furniture, it is to be drowned."
Before Vanitas had several guides on cats, Void had to stay outside and Olette was given absolute care. The glare she failed to smother when finally being able to hand the cat back could likely burn holes in his skull.
Shredding of wood hit his ear. And he cringed.
In his bed, he looked up from his book to see Void staring back at him.
The wood scratching post he constructed himself was to satisfy the thing's ever present need to destroy and the sound was always grating.
"I'm trying to read." Vanitas shot.
"Mraaaaw!"
He glared. He was positive Void couldn't understand him, but part of him had the slight suspicion he understood tone.
"Listen you little-"
Clopping of a horse's shoes caught his ear.
In the front yard a man emerged from a carriage and tipped his large top hat to Xehanort. Vanitas wasn't told they would be having a guest. Curious now, he watched them talk for two minutes before the man looked up and grinned his way.
Violet eyes pierced his own and he felt as though something cold was crawling up his skin. Despite his unease, Vanitas inspected him further. Dark skin, lanky limbs, and a purple tailcoat that seemed to elongate him further. Xehanort too looked up his way and grinned, gesturing to Vanitas' window. His words were muted from the outside. The dark skinned man seemed pleased at whatever he was saying as they walked inside together.
His identity remained a mystery that would have to be solved another time. The only thing Xehanort told him was that he was called Dr. Falicier.
Days continued to pass with little view of the world outside of the estate. The mysterious stranger popped in every several weeks, and back out before night fall. Xehanort stayed in his lab more, often missing dinner. Breakfasts were often quiet. Any questions towards the dark doctor were thwarted or brushed aside until Vanitas gave up.
Tutoring had been his only real gate out, occasionally a servant needing to leave to retrieve something. Still uncomfortable with talking to them, Omelet fulfilled the role.
Vanitas was sure that she resented him, but her puffy cheeks were funny and he felt a tingle of glee when she'd turn a certain shade of angry red.
Seeing his newfound curiosity, Xehanort suggested he read a newspaper, which was convenient because Void tore the thing to shreds when he finished. With a workshopped box and a bit of cleaning supplies the remains were re-purposed as a toilet that sat in a corner of the bathroom. Cat care had been an annoying handful but it beat the need to escort Void down to the yard or fear having piss everywhere.
