Aqua was smart enough not to bring up Vanitas's emotional breakdown the next "morning." If he had been the thanking type, he would've thanked her for that. Instead, he pried himself from his sandy crevice, brushed himself off, and got to work on reading the darkness' scent.

It was difficult to focus with Aqua's blue gaze fixed on him. She watched silently from her cross-legged position. Her thumb never stopped running over that ridiculous star-shaped charm.

"Cut that out," he ordered, turning his back to her. "Your stupid charm's messing with my nose."

She remained silent, but he could tell from the dissipating smell that she'd stopped touching it.

A good friend would've asked her more nicely. Too bad he wasn't a good friend.

"There we go." He closed his eyes, taking a deep whiff. He hadn't yet removed his mask, so his sense of smell was a little dimmed, but he wasn't ready to face her eye-to-eye yet. Besides, his nose was more than powerful enough to make up for the plastic barrier.

…Or at least, it usually was. So why couldn't he smell which way to go?

Grumbling, he threw off his mask, but it didn't seem to help. The tunnel smelled equally dark in both directions.

"Is something wrong?" Aqua asked, the first words she'd said so far today other than an awkward "good morning."

"Of course not," he covered quickly. He scooped up his helmet but vanished it rather than putting it back on. "Come on. We're going this way."

The tunnel only stretched in two directions, so he chose the way they hadn't come from. Still, it bothered him that he had no way to know for sure If it was the way out. They'd gotten so turned around chasing after the Unversed yesterday, they could be anywhere under the Realm of Darkness by now.

As usual, the silence irritated Vanitas as they walked. If they really were friends, shouldn't she have more to say to him? Of course, she probably couldn't think of any conversation topics besides his Unversed going insane, and he was perfectly fine with not bringing that up.

"Look." Aqua pointed to the wall, which was fading from sandy tan to a cold, solid grey. "Do you think we're almost out?"

Vanitas just shrugged. The darkness didn't smell any softer, but he'd let her have her futile hope.

That hope didn't last as the tunnel wound deeper. The grey darkened to pitch black, and the walls' ambient glow faded like the last rays of a sunset. Aqua lit a hovering ball of Fira. Neither of them wanted to risk Vanitas summoning a Red Hot Chili, even though it would've taken less effort.

"…Are you sure this is the way out?" Aqua asked, taking slow, careful steps in the firelight.

Vanitas rolled his eyes. "No, I just thought we should wander around in the dark for fun."

"There's something weird, though." The flickering light danced across her frown. "If it's so dark down here, where are all the Heartless?"

He hadn't thought about that, but it was weird. They hadn't even appeared when she'd played with her star-shaped charm.

"Maybe even they can't stand it down here." He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to shake the feeling that the walls were narrowing. It was probably just the firelight, reflecting at weird angles as the walls grew glossier.

Gradually, over the course of what must have been hours, the tunnel walls funneled until he was practically pressed against Aqua's side, the ball of Fira illuminating their endless reflections in the glassy black walls, like a nightmarish house of mirrors.

"I don't like this at all," Aqua whispered.

"Join the club." Vanitas shuddered.

"…Should we go back?" she asked reluctantly. For once, he wasn't angry that she doubted him. This tunnel even gave him the creeps. But at the same time, that would be a long, long walk back…

"Back where?" he countered. "If it's a dead end or we can't fit, we'll go back. But we'll never get anywhere if we keep picking paths and giving up on them."

"What about your nose?" She stopped abruptly. He stopped too before he could walk straight into the Fira. "Is this really taking us towards the light?"

"Of c…" His answer choked off. It was easy enough to brush her questions off with sarcasm, but this time her blue gaze caught him cold. "What do you want me to say, Aqua? I don't know, okay! I don't freaking know!"

She looked like she wanted to flinch away, but there wasn't enough room. Her back flattened against the glossy stone wall. At first he thought an Unversed might be trying to escape—but no, Anger was an emotion that might burst out of his mouth, but it wouldn't escape his body unless he wanted it to.

No, she was just afraid of him. Like she should be.

"Look, I may be pretty awesome, but I'm not perfect," he admitted, backing up as far as he could in the narrow space. "My sense of smell… this place is interfering with it. Everywhere is dark."

She stared at the ground.

"So… we could be anywhere."

His stomach sank, a feeling worse than hunger.

"…Yeah. We could."

Absently her fingers brushed over the charm at her hip, but this time, it didn't glow. "Maybe I'd rather you stayed painfully arrogant."

"Why? Can't handle the truth?" He snorted. Considering how she always questioned him, he never thought that she might actually… trust him, in a way. Depend on his confidence.

She shook her head. "It just doesn't leave us with any plan of action. Stay this course, return back… either way, we have no compass."

Even if it was true, Vanitas didn't like hearing her say it out loud. Maybe he was the one who needed her confidence.

"Then it doesn't matter," he decided, turning away from the fire. "But we have to keep moving. We can't stay and rot down—"

Wind. Whooshing towards them, from the direction they'd been travelling. It carried the warm stench of decay—moldy sewers, rusted drains, and all other places darkness fed to. He gagged on it, choked on it; the tunnel was too narrow to escape.

"Vanitas!" Aqua caught him as he swayed, collapsed. "Van, what is it? What was that?"

"Nngh… Get out… we've got to get… air…"

As easily as if he were a bag of feathers, she scooped him up in both arms and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Vanitas hovered at the edge of consciousness, processing nothing but the awful smell. This wasn't ordinary darkness, not even for its Realm. This was something much, much worse, and he did not want to find out what.

"Ohhh…" The wind bristled the back of his neck, moaned in his ear, rotted his nose. Aqua froze.

"What?" Vanitas mustered the strength to snap. "Run, you idiot…"

"Ohh… thisss…"

That—that was not wind.

"You heard that," Aqua whispered breathlessly. "Didn't you?"

"Yessss," the not-wind hissed.

Aqua's grip tightened on him, so even if the voice hadn't chilled his blood, he wouldn't have been able to move.

"Run," Vanitas whispered, eyes wide open. "Aqua, run!"

Stumbling, her legs worked themselves into motion. Not fast enough.

"Sssssuch a hurry," the voice tingled. A low, light breath of a sound, a breath warm and sticky, like blood. Aqua lurched to another halt in spite of Vanitas's hissing protests. The firssst denziensss of light in over a thoussssand yearsss. Sssurely you could sssstay for a ssshort visssit."

Vanitas put his arms around Aqua's neck, clutching her tightly as she clung to him.

"What... what in light's name was that?" Aqua's words were barely audible against her ear.

"I don't know. I don't want to know, I want you to freaking RUN!"

"Easy for you to say!" she snapped, legs moving as if through molasses.

Another gust of the hellish wind, and the Fira blew out. A terrified shriek burst from Aqua's mouth.

"Isssn't thisss much better?" The wind wrapped around them in a chocking embrace, but the voice itself was gentle, dangerously entrancing. Like honey swarming with demonic bees.

Aqua was breathing hard; Vanitas could feel himself rising and falling with it. In spite of the terror squeezing a fist around his heart, he made himself scramble out of her arms. His head hit the wall with a thud. Snapping a curse, he found his footing and lit a ball of Dark Firaga that barely illuminated the tunnel before them.

Then he snatched Aqua's hand and ran for his life.

As they ran, Vanitas summoned his helmet to block out as much of the stench as he could. Aqua had no such shield, but she held her hand over her nose—which meant she could smell it too, even without an enhanced sense of smell. That wasn't good.

"Sso impolite," the wind tsk tsked. "We merely wanted to give our thanksss for the awakening."

"Awakening?" Aqua gasped.

" Yesss. Sssuch loud voicccesss… impossssible to remain in our ssssslumber…"

Us. Our. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Shut up!" The wind kept tickling his neck, but they were running faster now, legs eating the stone beneath them as it faded from black to grey. His Dark Firaga winked out as the ambient light returned, but they weren't safe yet.

The wind seemed to laugh, a high whistle, like breeze though ice-crusted branches. "Sssee usss now, ssee usss later, you will ssssee ussss."

"No way in—"

Aqua froze, snapping Vanitas's arm back as he kept running. "Come on! What are you—!?"

His eyes bulged. Looking back, he couldn't see Aqua.

He only saw a swirling cloud of acrid smoke.

"Aqua!" He grabbed her arm with both hands, but no matter how hard he yanked, she stayed locked in place. Coughs wracked her body, their aftershocks traveling down the length of her arm into his. "Aqua! Aeroga!"

He didn't practice wind spells often; he was afraid it wouldn't be strong enough, but his other half's affinity for the element didn't fail him. A roar of wind sent the mist fleeing down the tunnel—and sent Aqua flying onto her back.

"Yesssssss…" the voice hissed off into the distance.

Vanitas stood shuddering, staring into the darkness as Aqua hacked and coughed, retching up the black smoke. It was an uncanny echo of the first time he cloaked her light, the darkness he'd forced down her throat. He'd taken a sick pleasure in that, then. Now the sight only brought him a sickening fear.

"You're fine," he shakily told her (and himself). "Just… just the wind. Get up."

She didn't. Her coughs faded to wheezes, then heavy, heaving breaths, but otherwise she didn't move.

"Come on. We should be moving." He tapped her with the toe of his boot, trying to ignore the Fear-Anxiety-Panic pushing up from his skin.

No response. Her eyes were closed; glistening droplets trailed down her cheeks.

"Hey—hey, stop it." He winced. Why did she have to freaking cry? Yeah, it was a traumatic experience; sure, he was freaking out on the inside. They'd heard a voice, something sentient. But how was water coming out of her eyes going to fix anything?

"I said stop!"

"No!" she finally snapped back at him. "We are lost in the Realm of Darkness, we have no idea where we are, and a dark mist with a voice tried to kill me! Don't you dare tell me to stop crying!"

She sobbed, full out sobbed, so much scarier than her wracking coughs before. Maybe even scarier than the voice itself.

His mouth froze half-open. What could he say to make it stop? Sobs echoed in the tunnel; he swore he could also hear echoes of the voice laughing, mocking them—Yesss, cry your pathetic tearsss. They will not ssssave you. He shook the thought from his head.

"…Aqua?" He tentatively crouched beside her, fingers almost brushing her arm, not quite brave enough. "You—you're stronger than this. Get up."

She shot him a glare through tear-soaked, reddened eyes. Clearly this wasn't working. Her sobs resumed, chocked, shortened, but just as painful. He ripped off his helmet, covering his ears. What could make it stop?

"…Please," he begged. "Please, Aqua…"

That caught her attention. Quiet sniffles replaced her sobs..

"Will you… please… get up?" He forced the words out through near-gritted teeth.

"I—" she swallowed, "I—I can't…"

"Aqua, it could come back," he added seriously, and her eyes widened. "We have to go."

"Why?" she demanded, voice cracking. "Go where? Can't it just find us again?"

"Maybe not." He held onto that hope. He had to.

"…I still can't move." She coughed weakly. "I really can't. The smoke… it took…"

He sighed. She did look pathetic; he'd give her that. Face as pale as eggshells, goosebumps wrinkling her otherwise smooth skin. Bleached lips trembling with words that wouldn't form.

"Fine." He crouched beside her. "Then you won't be able to kill me if I carry you."

He slid his arms under her back and knees without waiting for a reply, which never came anyway. She was heavier than he expected, even remembering how she pinned him the first time he tried to touch her.

But he was strong. It was good to feel in charge again.

The stone slowly faded to a light tan, with sand thinly carpeting the floor. Aqua barely shifted in his arms the whole way, only sniffling occasionally. Miraculously, Vanitas had managed to avoid sending her into another sob-fest.

"You… must be tired," she finally murmured, as his boots began to drag limply through the sand.

"I'm fine," he insisted. Forget the fact that his arms were burning, his spine creaked under her weight, his vision swam behind his mask. He hadn't fully recovered, either, but at least he was more darkness-tolerant than she was.

"If we're… safe anywhere… we are here," she said between breaths.

Funny she'd say that, when she'd been the one to say they weren't safe anywhere. But he didn't argue this time.

Aqua smiled when he rested her gently on the corridor's sandy floor. "Thank you, Van."

After what they'd been through today, the nickname barely provoked a response, positive or negative.

"Hmph. Couldn't wait on you forever," he brushed it off.

She laughed weakly, but didn't press it.

He lit a Fire—much dimmer than hers, but without his usual taint of darkness. They both stared into its flickering depths, wondering what words could possibly be appropriate after such a terrifying, surreal encounter.

"…Do you have any idea what it was?" Aqua finally asked.

"I already told you I don't." He frowned, turning his head away. He'd always assumed he knew everything about darkness, but this… Nothing had prepared him for this.

"Maybe that's what we'll become," he suggested darkly, "when we die down here."

Wide-eyed, she gasped at him. Chuckling, he dissipated his mask, so she could see his impish grin. "What, can't take a joke?"

She shook her head with a grim frown. "That's not funny, Vanitas."

Vanitas. Not Van. His frown mirrored hers.

"Not like I ever had a 'humor' teacher," he muttered. She didn't seem to hear.

"I bet that's what keeping the Heartless away, though. Even those monsters would be scared of it." She scooted closer to the fire. "We need to get back to the surface. As soon as possible."

"What do you think we've been doing?" He rolled his eyes, and she sighed.

"Is your sense of smell working again?"

He took a deep breath, not getting his hopes up—but to his surprise, the scents were different. The darkness was weaker in the direction they were now traveling, but was that just in comparison to the dark wind that they'd left behind?

"We're going the right way now." It was a relief, to be able to give her a little bit of hope.

Her brow lifted in surprise, then relaxed with a laugh.

"Thank the light."

Why would she say that? It wasn't like the light had done anything for them so far.

She tried to push herself to a sitting position, but her elbows trembled in futile protest. "We should keep moving…"

"So you can fall back on your face?" He snorted. "Rest. You were right. If we're safe anywhere, we're safe here."

"But…"

"Rest." It was an order, not a request.

"What about you?" She ignored him. "Are you doing alright? After almost fainting, and yesterday—"

"I'm fine. Just go to sleep already."

She gave him a sad, pitying look, but he didn't have to tell her again. She rolled onto her side, her back to him. Soon her breathing evened out; the stress and exhaustion of the "day" quickly sent her into unconsciousness.

For Vanitas, it wasn't quite so easy. The thoughts and emotions he'd been trying to evade quickly caught up with him.

What was that wind? He'd only been half-joking when he said it could be some danged soul trapped down here. Nothing native to the Realm of Darkness was truly alive or sentient. Nothing here was able to speak.

But the wind had. Could they have both imagined it? No, the darkness shouldn't be able to make them hallucinate simultaneously. No other explanations were more comforting, though.

Forget it. I'm not going to hear them or see them ever again.

Aqua shifted in her sleep, rolling over to face him. For a moment her face seemed untroubled, serene. Maybe for once, the darkness didn't taint her dreams.

"Bet you're dreaming of your loser friends." In spite of himself, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Guess I count as one of those loser friends now, huh?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but her lips seemed to curve upwards, if only just a little.

Something shifted inside him. Not near his skin, not like the irritating itch of Annoyance. No, deeper, deeper, down to his core, his heart.

What? He barely had time to think, before a fledgling emotion wisped out of his chest.

"What the—?" Before it could fully form, he made a move to shove it back in—but his hand stopped short.

The tendril, the semisolid mist emerging from him—it wasn't dark. It wasn't black, or blue, or purple, or any other shade of unbridled negativity.

It was pure white.

Vanitas stared, awe and disbelief jumbled together. He stopped trying to hold it back.

The white fog slowly, gently precipitated into the tiniest Unversed he'd ever seen. A Flood, by its general shape, but no Flood had ever been as small as the length of his hand before. And no Flood had light blue eyes, either.

"You… what are you?" he whispered, leaning forward onto his knees.

It didn't answer, of course, but he did feel a strange warmth radiating from it—not necessarily heat, but… comfort. It was the strangest sensation.

The tiny, glowing Flood scampered towards Aqua's sleeping form. Showing no hesitation, it curled itself into the crook of her arm, like a cuddly snowball. Or a teddy bear, maybe. Aqua unconsciously hugged it closer.

"You didn't come from… not from me," Vanitas denied. As if his words were a signal, the Flood dissolved into a mist of light that Vanitas breathed in. Aqua shivered, rolling back to her other side and curling further in on herself.

Vanitas lied back, wide eyes drilling a hole in the stone ceiling.

An Unversed… of light? No way. I must be dreaming.

But he never had dreams—not good ones, anyway. Not ones where he felt peace, the gentle warmth that breathed back into him at the Unversed's departure.

He'd thought yesterday was the weirdest that things could get.Stupid. This was the Realm of Darkness. They could still only be scratching the surface. If that voice was only the beginning…

Just for a moment, he wished the strange Unversed would return with its comforting glow, even if it made less sense than the voice. He didn't dare try to recall it on purpose, though, not after yesterday.

I must be losing it...

Sleep took a long time coming, and when it did, it was mixed with dreams of wind and voices and Unversed drowning him in blinding light.

Scary as the nightmares were, however, they were nothing compared to the horror that greeted him when he opened his eyes.