If she had been physically able, Vanitas was sure Aqua would've sprinted nonstop to the edge of the Realm of Darkness. They'd already chased the sparkling trail for miles through tunnels and chambers before another dizzy spell cut her down.
"Aqua!"
Her knees hit the sandy ground. With no real food in her stomach, dry heaves wracked her body. The Wayfinder's guiding beacon flickered, then winked out.
Vanitas knelt beside her, placing a palm to her forehead and shoving down Panic that tried to manifest as a Yellow Mustard.
"You're burning up. We're never going to get out of here if you kill yourself from something as stupid as exhaustion first."
She just groaned, one hand going to her head, another to her stomach, as if unsure which hurt worse.
"A break… wouldn't be so bad, I suppose…"
Vanitas was pretty sure that with both of them having carried each other over the past day, the no-touching rule was out the window. But since Aqua was still fully conscious this time, he figured he'd better ask anyway.
"Can I use Curaga on you?"
She nodded weakly, eyes overcast. Shuffling to crouch in front of her, he placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Curaga." The green molasses began to sweat from his palms. Its soft glow felt eerie in the dark tunnel; he found himself missing the illumination of the Wayfinder's light-trail.
"You can't cast from a distance?" she found the strength to ask, looking puzzled.
"Not unless you want a Dark Curaga. And trust me, you don't." The radioactive-looking healing magic slowed at his words, no matter how much he willed it to flow faster.
A simple Cure he could cast farther away, but for a stronger spell, this was the best way. Slow and tedious, but the best his pathetic powers could do. Aqua was probably laughing at him on the inside.
"Would you like me to teach you?" she asked. No mockery, no overtone of superiority. "Not right now, of course. I need to regain my strength."
His gut reaction would have been to snap, I'm fine. That he didn't need help. Asking for help was for losers… but, ironically, helping each other had been the only thing that had stopped them from losing to this place so far.
"…Sure. Why not." In battle, it could be the difference between saving Aqua's life and watching her die. A ranged Curaga could let him protect her.
Since when did he want to protect her? For reasons other than because she held the key to escaping the Realm of Darkness, or because he was bored? This time, he just didn't want her to be in pain.
Was this how it felt, then? Was this what compelled Aqua to always go chasing after those idiots Terra and Ventus? This sensation, a weird warmth, felt something like a contained fire. Driven and purposeful. He would protect her. He'd already been trying to, but something had shifted in that brief moment of introspection: his heart was in it now.
Aqua suddenly gasped and scrambled back from him.
"Van!"
The green glow disappeared from his hands, but the tunnel remained lit. He spun around, and realized why.
Behind him stood a glowing white Bruiser. A scream burst from his mouth; he fell back against the sandy ground. But the Bruiser just stood there. The part of its chest that was usually black had swapped itself for a pale orange. Like its predecessor, the tiny Flood, its eyes were a deep blue.
"Van—what are you doing?"
I don't know!" he yelled, hands clenching fistfuls of his black hair. That wouldn't change color with this stupid influx of light, would it? It was a dumb thing to worry about, but for all the years spent wearing a mask, he liked his black hair.
The Bruiser sat down beside him, plopping down on its fat white butt. Vanitas let out an embarrassing scream. Still, the Bruiser remained tame; this wasn't like the schism that had happened a few days ago. He had worried about the white Unversed having something to do with that…
Experimentally, and before he really thought his idea through, he let a Triple Wrecker of Confusion form in front of him.
"Vanitas, no! We have to find out—" Aqua's sentence cut off.
The Bruiser's lightning-shaped eyes narrowed, becoming two narrow blue bolts. Since when could they change facial expressions? It quickly rocked to its feet, hurling itself at the Triple Wrecker in the same motion. Its tricolored pieces scattered.
"What is going on…?" she finished. But Vanitas finally knew.
The Triple Wrecker reassembled with the blue piece at center, firing a shot of Blizzard at the Bruiser. The bright Unversed stepped into the hit, splaying its arms as if…
…As if to protect him and Aqua.
Vanitas shot Dark Thundaga at the Triple Wrecker. It puffed into oblivion and a Wellspring Crystal, its negativity trailing back into him with a not-too-terrible dose of pain. The bright Bruiser sat back down, satisfied now that the "threat" had passed.
Vanitas hadn't made it to a standing position in the first place, and now he flopped on his back.
"I've gone insane," he muttered, closing his eyes to his Unversed's glow. His Unversed's light. "You might as well kill me now, Aqua. Put an end to me."
"No!" she shouted, horrified at his words. Weird, he registered faintly. Not long ago she would've taken any opportunity to kill him. Now they were friends.
That was why this was happening. She had turned him inside out, turned his emotions against themselves.
He wanted to run, but couldn't find the will for it. He couldn't run from himself.
But he could run from her…
The Bruiser must have felt his urge to flee, because it scooped him up and took off on its stubby legs.
They didn't get far, however, before a burst of Firaga took the Unversed from behind. Vanitas fell to the ground with a shout. There was pain, but just from the fall—the Unversed's aura, like the light Flood's, didn't hurt on its way back in. The warmth inside just returned: the drive to protect Aqua.
"Why can't anything just make sense?!"
Running from her, wanting to protect her, blaming her for this emotional whirlpool. If only he could get rid of the emotions, all of them—but they were a part of him. Without them, he'd be nothing. Nobody. Or maybe just a real Heartless. He wished the dark creatures were down here; he itched to strike something with his keyblade, get out of his own head.
He might as well be fighting Ventus on their Dive platform again. It took every shred of his self control to keep them from exploding in another schism of Unversed.
He had light in him. He couldn't hide from it anymore. The tiny Flood was one thing, but a whole Bruiser? And then there was his sense of smell. Everything slipping away from him, everything he was. And for what? A pot of ice cream? Aqua being his friend?
Happiness?
It was all unknown. That was why people were afraid of the dark, he'd heard—it was unknown, unseeable. But he knew the darkness. It was the light he couldn't stare into. What else would it change about him? Would he become just like Ventus?
He curled into a pathetic ball at the thought. Just like Ventus… he might as well have been the weaker half, reabsorbed when they merged, becoming nothing…
Tears stained his face. The gritty sand of the ground stuck to his cheek. For a moment, he really wished Aqua would kill him. Being dead was better than being nothing.
The moment passed; too much of his feral instinct screamed that he wanted to live. Why? Why? What was there for him besides being torn apart, inside and out, lost in madness—
"Van! Vanitas!" Aqua shook him roughly.
His eyes fluttered open—he hadn't realized he'd shut them—and he took in her ghost-pale face.
"What's happening? Are you sick too?" She cast Curaga on him just to be safe; it soothed his physical pains, but did nothing for his fractured mind and heart. "Please, talk to me. If it was something I said…"
"No," he forced out. "It's something you are."
She recoiled; her eyes flashed in pain. The Regret pierced through his armor of self-control, becoming a swarm of weepy-eyed Mandrakes.
That opened the floodgates. Bruisers, Archravens, Tank Topplers, Thornbites, Axe Flappers—Unversed tore themselves from him, the pain of each one fueling the creation of the next. A shrill scream rent the air. His own. No sight of Aqua now, the Unversed piled around him, pushing him harder against the ground. Small stones mixed with the sand dug into his cheek; he thought he could smell blood.
This was wrong, so, so wrong. The Unversed were under his control, not the other way around. But there was so much pain—it choked him with each Unversed he spawned. His throat and chest grew tighter and tighter, a fist closing around his insides.
He'd thought that Aqua should kill him. Now, maybe he was just doing the job himself.
He had no strength left to scream. He had just enough for one small thought: what would happen to her if he died?
She had the Wayfinder now. With that leading the way, and his dark suit protecting her from the mobs of Heartless, she would be safe. She'd be better off without a time-bomb waiting to explode into Unversed at any moment.
Unversed still swarming over him, face still in the sand, he found himself smiling. In spite of all of this, he still wanted to protect her. And he still would. Hadn't he just promised that to himself?
The thought made the storm of Unversed pouring from him wane.
But, he remembered, wanting to protect her is what got me here in the first place. Her light, tainting my Unversed…
And the storm raged again. It ripped another scream from him lips. There was nothing outside of the Unversed, the black tempest around him.
Nothing… that's all I am…
They drew too much of his strength. Too much.
Everything faded to darkness.
XXX
Vanitas was falling.
Am I dead? Am I falling into the Realm of Darkness again? Is this just a nightmare to live over and over? Anything but that please, I'll even merge with that idiot Ventus, I don't care! Just don't make me do this again!
Sensations cut through the panic. Well, one sensation: he was wet. Underwater.
He hadn't been in water often, and Xehanort had never taught him to bathe, but Vanitas remembered the feeling from Ventus. Shouldn't he be drowning? He kept sinking, only the sinking felt as fast as falling. Maybe this would go on forever?
I swear, if I get another concussion…
Just as he thought it, an unseen force flipped him, so he was no longer falling head-first. His descent slowed, until his boots touched down on… well, nothing, it looked like. The ground was just as dark as the water around him.
Until layers of the darkness, like papers caught in a whirlwind, peeled up from around his feet. He jumped, Void Gear flashing to hand, but the pages—no, birds—what the heck were birds doing underwater?—flew off with no attempt to harm him. That was his first clue that this wasn't the Realm of Darkness.
The second was what was revealed by the black birds' departure.
"No way," he breathed. He'd been here before. But it was impossible; he and Ventus had shattered this place during their final battle.
He stood on the glass representing his heart.
"That's it. I have gone insane."
"Not exactly," came a reply that pierced him to the bones. He wanted to jump, but the voice seemed to pin his feet to the stained glass below, froze his hands to his blade.
"Who's there?" he demanded. He spun, searching the darkness in the dim light emanating from the glass underfoot. No point in looking at that too closely; he had no desire to see Ventus's image mirroring his own.
There was no response, but that allowed his ears to pick up on the eerie music filtering through the darkness, as if there were a possessed organ somewhere in the distance. Was that chanting? A possessed choir? Had that been here last time? His battle with Ventus would've made it too loud to tell.
"I asked you a question, idiot!" This day was too freaking weird to take crap from yet another disembodied voice. At least he could tell they were different; this new voice felt like… a part of him.
That was probably the insanity talking.
"That's not very nice."
"Good." Vanitas snorted. "What are you, my conscience?"
"I guess you could say that."
Pfft. Like he had a conscience. If he somehow got one, though, it was probably the reason behind his insanity.
"Well get out! I don't need you!"
"If you say so." The voice gave a patronizing laugh, like one would give to a young child insisting he could dress himself.
Vanitas somehow felt the presence leave. Like the void got emptier, the darkness darker. Maybe he shouldn't have ordered it away so rashly…
His pride demanded that he not call back to it.
"Stupid Conscience."
What now? Stuck here, inside his head—heart, whatever—nothing to distract him but the glass floor. He finally glared at it.
Ventus was gone. Well, not completely—his face filled a small circle next to glass-Vanitas's head—but at least he didn't take up half of the circular space. What that meant exactly, he wasn't sure. Had he finally escaped his light half? Even if he ran to the other side of the universe, he doubted he could.
He should know; the Realm of Darkness was the other side of the universe.
Ventus's face wasn't the only one circumscribed on the pillar, though.
"Aqua…" His heart squirmed, which didn't make any sense, considering he was supposedly standing in it.
Half of him wanted to tell Aqua's face to get lost, that she had no right to carve herself into his heart. The other half, the probably-more-insane half, felt… proud. He, a being of darkness, had collected one of the strongest champions of light in his heart. How many people could say that?
The background had changed, too. Rather than a silhouette of the Keyblade Graveyard, dark purple, blue, and grey rock formations swept in a crescent around the bottom edge of the pillar. The Realm of Darkness. If this place wasn't a figment of his imagination, maybe the platform had rebuilt itself when he fell into this nightmare.
If it had rebuilt itself, it hadn't done a perfect job of it. Hairline fractures webbed the glass panes, like arteries pumping liquid darkness.
His hand rose to cover his heart, or at least, where it should be. It wasn't hard to see why the cracks would be there. If he really was separated from Ventus, his heart couldn't be whole. No matter how much he wished it was.
"Is this really all I am?" he muttered. "Still just a broken tool…?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"Shut up, Conscience. No one asked you." Couldn't he even be alone inside his own head?
"Well, maybe you should."
Ask his conscience what it thought of him? He might be insane, but he wasn't crazy. Still, he felt its presence waiting, like an invisible stare.
"Fine, if you know so much, what do you think I am?"
It didn't reply immediately. Did a conscience need to take time to think?
"You are human."
"H-human? You're kidding." Conscience was just a product of insanity, what did it know?
"Would that really be so bad?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
Human. He scoffed. Why would he want to be human? He had been human once, as part of Ventus. He had been weak then. Too weak to please Xehanort, too weak to defend himself from the Heartless.
Too weak to protect his heart from being broken.
"Hmm… I could tell you about who you are. But maybe it would be better for you to find out yourself."
Before he could argue, a crystalline door phased into existence at the top edge of the platform.
"Whatever, Conscience."
He dashed for the door and flung it open, only to find himself in the Keyblade Graveyard. His eyes shut to the suddenly blinding sun, but his eyelids provided little protection. Instead he summoned his mask, which was much more useful. Still, compared to the Realm of Darkness and the inside of his heart, the wasteland might as well be the surface of the sun.
Which, once his eyes stopped burning, wasn't so bad. He never thought he'd be glad to be back in the Keyblade Graveyard, but the warm light, soft scent of dust, and gentle non-evil wind embraced him like a hug. …If he'd liked hugs.
"Just remember, this is all in your head," he muttered before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Great, now I'm talking to myself. Is that worse than talking to my conscience…?"
"Vanitas." That was a voice he recognized. How could he forget one of his least-favorite idiots?
He turned around to face the source of the voice, which at least wasn't disembodied this time.
"Terra. Who invited you to my heart?" He couldn't get the right amount of contempt into his voice. Staying angry just took too much energy. Especially when no one shot an appropriate amount of anger back.
"What are you so afraid of?" Terra asked, as if he hadn't heard him at all.
"Nothing," he spat back, "except maybe being stuck here with a loser like you."
He spun to walk away, leaping off of a ledge into a wide crater and landing in a crouch.
"What are you so afraid of?"
Vanitas stood only to stumble back with a curse. How had the brown haired idiot gotten in front of him again?
"I'm afraid of the dark," he lied in deadpan before stalking off. He made it about halfway across the crater before looking over his shoulder to make sure hallucination-Terra wasn't following him.
He was gone. Vanitas only had a second to wonder how before he walked into something solid.
"Ow!" He rubbed the side of his helmet. That didn't do anything, really, but it made him feel better.
"What are you so afraid of?" Terra stood in front of him, his muscular chest the source of Vanitas's injury.
He cursed, pushing down Panic. What would happen if he released an Unversed here, in what was probably another illusion of his heart? He didn't want to trigger some kind of emotion-ception.
"What are you afraid of?" he countered, summoning his keyblade. "'Cause if you're smart, the answer should be me."
Terra's eyes narrowed, regarding Void Gear as if it were a fly in his ice cream. Then he summoned his own blade, the bronze Earthshaker.
Vanitas laughed and took up his battle stance. He'd always dreamed of fighting Terra. Stupid Xehanort had always, always forbidden him, with explicit threats of permanent bodily harm if he tried. Probably because Xehanort knew that if Vanitas got his hands on Terra, he would be the one suffering from permanent bodily harm. The old geezer didn't like the idea of possessing a body missing an arm or leg.
What Xehanort didn't know was why Vanitas hated Terra. Aside form the keyblade wielder's larger stature and general stupidity, Terra had taken the role of Ventus's older brother. Vanitas had spied on the Land of Departure (both for Xehanort and to satisfy his own curiosity) enough times to know that Terra was Ventus's closest friend. If Vanitas could take that away… maybe then his light half would understand just a little bit of Vanitas's constant pain.
Plus, Terra was slow. This should be easy as making Floods.
The taller keyblade wielder wordlessly took up his own battle stance. Then Vanitas charged, whirling in with a downward strike. Terra brushed it away with his blade, like the attack was little more than a stray breeze. Growling, Vanitas slid to the side and tried to find an opening for a combo, but the all-too-solid illusion parried each of his strikes with sturdy blocks. The recoil sent Vanitas skidding back on the dry ground.
"What are you so afraid of?" Terra repeated the only words his idiot brain could say, but this time they were accompanied by a smirk.
That fueled Vanitas's rage. Smirking was his thing.
With a battle cry mostly consisting of unintelligible screams, he leapt in again. His fierce jab nearly pierced Terra's sternum, but he slid back at the last second, retaliating with a swinging upward strike. Vanitas barely turned Void Gear in time to block, but the clash twisted his wrist at a painful angle. He cringed, wishing he'd braced the block with his free hand. How long had it been since he'd dueled a proper opponent?
When he had forged the X-Blade and battled Aqua, probably.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted in frustration, hoping a reaction from Terra would give him an opening. "I've seen Shadows fight better than you!"
Not his most creative (or honest) insult, and Terra seemed to know it. Not rising to the bait, he swung at Vanitas again, this time not backing up when their keyblades clashed. Sweat dripped down Vanitas's masked forehead as he tried to hold his ground against the larger keybearer.
It was no use. Physical strength just wasn't on his side.
Terra sent him crashing to the ground, Void Gear a thin barrier between Earthshaker and his throat.
This is it. I'm going to die here, fighting an idiot inside my head. If he died in his head, did he die in real life? Ventus had broken the X-Blade in his head and he'd basically died from that, so the odds weren't in his favor.
Terra paused, keeping the pressure on his blade, and repeated his question.
"What are you so afraid of?"
Vanitas flinched at the edge in his voice. Illusion or not, Terra wanted a serious answer. Realizing that might be his only chance to come out of this alive, he wracked his mind.
The truth was, Vanitas feared a lot of things. Losing, like he just had to Terra, was up there—but he'd faced a lot of losses, and come out fine… mostly, anyway. He feared Xehanort as much as he hated him, but Vanitas felt decently safe from him now, exiled to the Realm of Darkness. Ironic that anything about the hellish place could feel safe.
The harder Terra pressed, the harder Vanitas searched himself. Apparently this was a timed test. He had only gone to public school for a few years before Xehanort had "adopted" (read: kidnapped) him-slash-Ventus, but that had been long enough to develop a hatred of time limits.
He was afraid of the light, but at the same time he wasn't. Afraid of what it could do to him, yes—the burning, the needles in his heart—but he couldn't completely get rid of his sick longing for it. Like a horribly addictive drug.
Was he afraid of being light? It owning a piece of him? Like Ventus had once owned him. That was getting closer to the truth. Just like Void Gear was being pressed closer to his throat.
"I'm—I'm afraid—" He gasped, searching the unformed Unversed inside him for the last piece of his answer. "I'm afraid of being broken! I'm afraid I'll just be half a heart, forever. There, are you happy?"
The pressure on his blade disappeared as Terra relaxed. He stood straight, banishing Earthshaker with a satisfied smile.
"Is being broken really so bad?"
Vanitas blinked in surprise, about to argue his point, but te words died on his tongue. In that blink, Terra had disappeared.
"Seriously? That was it?"
He pushed himself to his feet, heart still beating fast. Maybe dueling the other keybearer had been a bad idea, but at least he'd gotten out some anger. In spite of his sore arms and heavier breathing, he felt better than he had in a long time.
A glimpse of blue caught his peripheral vision. He turned and saw Aqua standing at the other side of the crater.
"Aqua!" He called, running to her. "Thank the Void, I—"
He skidded to a stop. Something was off. Her clothes—she wore her outfit from back in the Realm of Light, puffy sleeves and skirt-wrap included. No dark suit.
"You're a hallucination too, aren't you?"
She didn't answer his question. She calmly looked him in the eye and asked, "What is most important to you?"
He wanted to snarl at her, Annoyance rising, but he knew by now it wouldn't do him any good. No point in getting into another duel right after getting his butt kicked by Terra. Thankfully, since he wasn't fighting for his life this time, he could think a little more clearly.
What was most important to him? That question used to be easy. Forging the X-Blade, hands down. But obviously that wasn't an option anymore.
Honestly, he hadn't thought much about he wanted since then. Mostly he just thought about what he didn't want—didn't want to be light, didn't want to be stuck in the Realm of Darkness, didn't want himself or Aqua to die.
"Survival," he answered simply. "Staying alive."
Aqua, or rather, illusion-Aqua, smiled. "Is staying alive really so important?"
"…Are you really asking that?"
He remembered earlier that day, when he'd wished Aqua would kill him. That had been stupid. Staying alive was important. It was pretty much the only constant he could count on: he would fight for his life, until he couldn't fight anymore. Whether that was against Heartless, the Voice, or even his own Unversed.
He turned to leave Aqua, guessing that she would disappear as Terra had. When he did so, he nearly jumped out of his boots.
"What do you want out of life?" Ventus asked, his stupid I'm-a-heart-of-light-and-I-love-everyone grin plastered on his face.
"I want—I want—" His throat constricted, choking off his words. His eyes stung. A silent shudder passed through him.
He fell to his knees and sobbed.
He was so tired of crying, of feeling like an idiot, but it didn't matter. Emotion coming out as water on his face was much better than Unversed bursting from his skin.
After a moment of indecision, he threw off his helmet. Ventus was just an illusion, and he needed to gasp in some fresh air and let the tears drip off his chin.
Unlike the other illusions, Ventus knelt down across from him. "Vanitas… Van."
His head jerked up, silencing his crying for a moment.
"Don't—don't call me that."
Ventus frowned, like a puppy who had just been chastised for eating a couch cushion.
"I'm sorry. Your heart told me it might make you feel better."
"You mean Conscience?" He snorted. It didn't have the right effect with snot clogging up his nose. "He's a liar. And you're not even real."
His other half didn't respond to that, just knelt there, staring at him with pity in his big blue eyes. Pity.
"Don't look at me like that!" He shouted, covering his eyes. "I should be the one pitying you! You're the pathetic loser who—who—"
Who was a part of him. Who had rejected him. Who had given him a taste of the light, and then stolen it away again.
He sobbed again, nearly choking in surprise when he felt Ventus's arms around him. He was just as surprised to find himself hugging back. His tears flowed onto Ventus's shoulder, soaking into the white fabric of his short jacket.
"Vanitas… I didn't know you…"
"Know what about me?" He intended it as a snap, but it came out flat, deflated. "That I have feelings?"
"Well… yeah."
Somehow the honesty, mixed with a bit of sheepishness, made him laugh.
"Idiot. I told you my Unversed were emotions." Why was he talking to illusion-Ventus like he would know that? It didn't matter, Ventus was Ventus, as far as Vanitas was concerned.
"Yeah, right before we killed each other." He stated it simply, without accusation.
"Fair point," Vanitas conceded, squirming a little. "Why… why aren't you trying to kill me now?" He could have asked himself the same question, but he'd had enough introspection already.
"Your heart called out to me."
"Are you… not an illusion?" He'd already talked like he wasn't, but it only sunk in now. "How did you get in my heart?!"
Unless… maybe he never left? That would definitely explain some of the light-shenanigans going on.
"Your heart called out to me," Ventus repeated. "I'm sleeping… somewhere, in the Realm of Light. In… someone's heart, I think."
"But how did you get here?"
Ventus shrugged, which felt weird with him still hugging him.
"I don't know. I haven't been awake in a long time, I think."
"How long?"
He shrugged again. Maybe time passed weird there too, just like in the Realm of Darkness. Or maybe Ventus was just really good at sleeping.
"So you made it to my heart. What are you supposed to do here? Puke up rainbows? Try to convince me that light's the best? 'Cause Aqua beat you to it."
"Aqua?" He perked up, pulling away enough to see Vanitas's still-wet face. "Wait, she's in the Realm of Darkness? With you?"
He winced. Shouldn't have brought that one up.
"…It's a long story."
"Is she okay!?"
"I asked you a question first. What are you doing here?"
Those blue eyes became chips of ice. "If you hurt her—"
"She's fine." If his Unversed hadn't gotten to her, anyway, but he doubted it. "She saved your idiot friend Terra, trapped herself here instead of him. I didn't get a choice."
Ventus still looked defensive—as he should.
"…You better take care of her, then." He grimaced as he said it. "Ngh, I can't believe I'm saying that…"
"Hey, I've done a freaking awesome job of taking care of her. Unlike you."
That cut Ventus, he could tell, but he shook his head slowly. "I'm not here to argue. I'm here to help you."
"Why?" Vanitas demanded, the shock and joy of seeing his other half wearing off just enough for the anger to surface. "Why now, when you never wanted anything to do with me? You left me, Ventus! We were going to be whole again but nooooo, you had to kill us both instead!"
"Hey! You were the one trying to kill my friends—"
"I didn't have a choice! It was the only way you would fight!"
"Because I didn't want to forge the X-Blade and plunge the Worlds into another Keyblade War!"
"It was the only way to be whole! Do you have any idea how it felt to be broken—!"
"I do! I just didn't take it out on everyone else!"
"Well you always were the light half! I didn't even know how to be happy—"
"That doesn't mean you can hurt whoever you want!"
"You hurt me first!"
"I didn't even know you existed!"
"Aaaagggghhh!" Vanitas shouted, tackling his other half, who was unprepared for the attack. They wrestled for a few minutes, rolling and pinning each other, slipping away and trading positions. Then Ventus finally went limp under Vanitas's grip, pinned to the ground by Vanitas kneeling on his chest. Those blue eyes burned like the center of a fire.
"What do you want out of life, Vanitas? Huh? Is this it?" His breaths heaved raggedly. "You just want to push away everyone who cares about you?"
"You don't care about me!" Vanitas shoved down on his arms, blowing out a plume of dust.
"Yeah? Well then why am I here, idiot? I didn't have to come!"
Vanitas growled. Ventus was the idiot, not him. He should just kill him, right there. Finish what should've happened when they merged.
But…
"You came back," he finally realized, grip loosening. "You came back… why?"
"Because." Ventus shrugged. "You're a part of me… always will be."
"You hate that, don't you." Vanitas noticed the slight crease to his other half's brow.
Another shrug. Maybe sleeping for so long had given him a bit of apathy. "I can't say I like you. But you don't like me, so I guess we're even."
"But you came back anyway." Vanitas couldn't put it together. It was like trying to fit a square keyblade in a round lock.
Ventus nodded, his hair brushing around in the dust. "It was the right thing to do. You needed help. You're still human."
Vanitas recoiled, pushing back to his knees.
"That's what Conscience said." Wait. "Are you my conscience?"
Ventus grinned, sitting up. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"That's a stupid answer." He rolled his eyes. "I guess it doesn't matter."
"Either way, you still have to answer my question."
He nodded; he'd known it would come back to this eventually. Even though it was almost the same as Aqua's, he'd already thought of an original answer.
"What do you want out of life?" Ventus asked a final time.
Vanitas didn't know if his desire was possible. If it was too high a goal, or too low, or just stupid. But aside from staying alive, it was all he really wanted.
"I want to be happy."
Ventus's face lit up at that. Cheesy grin, sparkling blue eyes. He seized Vanitas in a bone-crushing hug.
"That's all I want for you too, Vani. Y'know, as long as you being happy doesn't involve killing people."
"Ugh, maybe just killing you." But he let himself be embraced.
And he even smiled.
After a long moment, Ventus cleared his throat.
"Vanitas… I have to go now."
His heart plummeted down to his boots.
"Again? I thought… this time, since you're just sleeping in a heart anyway…" He'd finally felt happy, whole, for just a second. Of course that couldn't last.
"We'll always be connected," Ventus replied, squeezing tighter. If that was even possible. "But you have a little of your own light now. It looks like you've connected with… someone else. If I stayed here, you could be seriously messed up."
"Too late for that now," he muttered. His own light… confirmed by the expert on light himself. As if the bright Bruiser hadn't been enough.
But his light was his own. Ventus wasn't taking him over. He wasn't being destroyed. Maybe… maybe he could live with that.
"Ventus?"
"Yeah?"
"You're not so much of an idiot after all."
"Heh. You're not too bad yourself." Ventus pulled away enough to show his smile.
And then… Light. Little orbs of it, like white HP orbs, floated off of his skin.
"See ya later, Vanitas."
He felt his skin tingle as Ventus's arms turned to motes of light. More and more followed, chipping away at the rest of his form, floating off into the clear sky like like clumps of stars.
Vanitas wiped a tear from his eye.
"Heh… See ya."