Chapter Text
I am… very confused.
One second, we’re in a desert, Master Vanitas is fighting a spooky ghost Vanitas the next… Caution //##<!--/*REM*/–/!><!----/!>?? What does that mean??
Something happened for sure. Did Vanitas get the ghost? There's a Shoe Unversed at my feet. I like them. But they seem nervous too. Mr. Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, is covered in dirt and is not wearing a shirt anymore. Vanitas has a death grip on the hood of my coat and is also covered in dirt, red grime, and wounds. Is it to make me stand up? Hold still? I’ll try to do my best to do both, he looks really tired.
For some reason deep in my core, I get a really really bad feeling about using cure.
When everyone finally arrived, Mr. Ansem loudly announced “Xehanort.” Gesturing towards Vanitas, “He did it.”
The old man looked shocked, gob smacked as he turned to face Vanitas with a frightening look, “Oh? Did he now?” he looked ready to strangle him, “So, where's your proof?”
I think Vanitas glared back, hard to tell with where I'm standing, but he somehow grips even harder, “What? What did you think a remnant would have a keychain or something? He’s dead, I have two witnesses.”
Mr. Ansem nodded, “Indeed.” I guess the other was me, maybe? I nod. He looks funny. Worried? I wish I knew what was going on!
The old man was mad, but forced a creepy smile, “Yet… And yet you haven't seemed to have improved at all.” His eye is twitching. Did he not want Vanitas to do it? “A test. Yes, a test! Fight someone, and prove you are worthy of the corridors.” The old man glared about before pointing to the Riku lookalike, “Riku Replica! Let’s see your progress as well.”
With a snap of his old spindly fingers, we were all in Dark Corridors, and were taken to what was basically a pit in the desert I hadn't seen before. Vanitas and Riku Replica stood across from one another down below, whereas the rest of us stood on the high ledge.
I was so close to the edge, my foot just a few millimeters from meeting a hard rocky fall. I had to back up or risk my legs giving out, or worse disobey into the wrong direction.
Ansem Seeker of Darkness stood by me, “Watch and learn. I have cured your master’s greatest flaw in combat.”
I don't understand, but I wobbly get up to stand beside him and watch. He’s so confident! Maybe this won’t be so bad.
That Riku takes a familiar stance, “Get on with it! Fight me already!”
Vanitas just snidely says with a fake bow, “Ladies can take the first shot.”
Riku’s mad about that and goes to bark a response, but finds a keyblade slashing at his face instead. The fight is on, and just like before Vanitas fights dirty.
Darkness filled attacks fill the arena. The clash of blades rings in my ears. My eye has trouble tracking them when they're darting around so much. The more I think about it, I don't think I've seen too many real fights from the sidelines. The closest I could think of was Donald and Goofy, but they fought nothing like this. It was impossible for me to figure out how they were doing, Vanitas was already covered in injuries and this fake Riku screams about everything. Are they okay? This can’t be a fight to the death, right? It’s just a test…isn’t it?
“The battle is almost over.” Ansem said rather sinisterly, “Vanitas has figured out his prey.” What does that mean?
It means when Riku Replica got desperate and attempted some kind of flashy attack, Vanitas struck with a powerful Tornado. Not like the ones he used against the ghostly guy, but one that was filled with all the metal swords from around. Vanitas flew atop one and chucked powerful magic I could feel all the way up here. A sudden assault that completely overwhelmed the fake Riku.
One of the silvered haired men had to step into the field somehow to get the Riku out of there, and with a loud but emotionless call, “This battle is over.”
Vanitas flew back, lowering the power of his spell, dropping swords all over until he hovered on a single one to the edge we all stood on. Casually walking off it and letting it plummet. He stood beside me, with a new layer of dust but no new injuries among them.
The old man looked like he wanted to strangle him.
With another snap we were all returned to the pillars. Xehanort looked with a mangled expression on his face, “I see. Vanitas from now on you may once more make use of the Dark Corridors. May the meeting continue.”
Saix quietly started the budget talks again, and the rest of the meeting was brief and tense. They didn’t even talk about Sora this time. Ansem seemed to have more to say but wasn’t saying it. I want to ask but my mouth still won’t make words correct. I hope it's all over soon, I want this to end already!
Over time I could feel small things, they seemed to crawl along my back. Eventually one crawled around so I could see it; a Flood. A tiny tiny Flood. Boss is really worried… As carefully as I can, I put it safely in my pocket along with any more that I can reach.
The meeting ended and Vanitas immediately made a dark portal and dragged me through it. Vanitas sighing in huge relief. It must have been like having your wings cut off. Before the door could close behind us, a head poked in, “Excuse Me?”
It’s Mr. Vexen! I wave to him, Vanitas just snaps, “What do you want?”
Vexen said, “Oh Ansem said you wish to speak to me, please do so after your shower; you’re positively caked with blood.” And pulled his head out.
Vanitas flung me about as he screamed, “YOU AND YOUR GODFORSAKEN SHOWERS!” Marching on out of an exit before making another one.
I wonder why he hates showers so much? Or why Vexen wants them so much? The questions never end.
Showers are silly. First, we normally just stand under the water for a while, trying to get all the dirt off, before Vanitas remembers the soap. Then he opens a random locker, steals a bottle and dumps half of it in on our heads.
“Wolfthorn…? This smells nothing like a wolf.” He grumbled, “Nor a thorn. I wasn’t going to take Saix’s but I read ‘Wolfthorn’ and I had to know.”
Halfway through the shower I noticed that only a little of my hair was falling out. I tried getting Vanitas’s attention but he was staring at the shower head too lost in thought to respond. I wish I could just do that, but then my eye would work even less.
Eventually he looked down at me, and I pointed at my hair. He stared without a hint of anything before roughly running his hands through it a few times, the last of the loose hair finally falling out.
After so long I finally had cycled through all of the hair Ava had collected. I waddled out of the shower to look in the mirror. Blurry and unfocused I could still just barely make it out. Its final form was several hundred tufts of several hundreds of colors and lengths that didn’t go together, making an ugly puffy colorful mess. But it was done. It’s gotta be soon! It’s gotta be soon!
A big silvery lock of it keeps getting into my face, and I keep having to blow it out of the way of my one good eye. Vanitas dropped his hand on my head again, “Another step closer.” Before trying to run his hand through my hair again. It got snagged though. He had to pull pretty hard to get it out. He seemed like he was going to say something mean but then stopped. He put his hand down. “Soon. Soon this will all be over.”
I couldn’t help but smile all the way back to Vexen’s. Vanitas is right. Soon.
“Possession…?” Vexen drawled clearly not believing us.
“I don’t know a better word for it!” I’m so sick of this shit, what else could it be?
He spun in his chair to the computer, tapped away before, “...So there was an error logged. I imagine this was the ‘possession’ you saw. It’s just a bug caused by the long delay between starting and properly initializing, it’ll clear itself in a day or two.”
Vexen turned to the doll, with a weird soft smile, “You must be very excited!” It nodded and chirped. He turned back to me, “If it happens again, which it won’t, then we’ll deal with it. Go home, bring it in when it’s done.”
All I could do was huff in annoyance, “Fine. But if I get bit by a dumb shield with a dog face, I'm blaming you.”
Vexen raised an eyebrow, “What? Do you mean a Defender Heartless?”
“I don't know what it was, it was a dog’s face in a red shield. What do you want from me?”
“Curious.” Vexen muttered, before shrugging, “Mysteries for another day. Goodnight you two.”
Rolling my eyes, I waited half a second too long before remembering I could make corridors all I want now. For a moment I thought about not taking the stupid thing back with me. But it will be fixed right? That dog will be gone? Whatever. I could kill that stupid shield if it ever pops up again. Glory snagging bitch.
Back in the cave and the mood is unusually… light?
Normally I'd be mad at something like that but, the idiot I've forgotten to finish naming, was no longer making a huge mess everywhere. The Unversed had been regularly stealing its excess threads and its colored hair to make weird nests out of and those all looked to be finished. Nowhere did the doll look normal, but nowhere did it look like it was changing anymore.
Tonight has to be the night.
The idiot hopped in a big circle with a ton of Hare Raisers, Wild Bruisers, and Vile Phials as Flood chittered all over. Archravens and Axe Flappers hung lower to keep an eye peeled. Even rare Unversed crawled out of hiding to watch; a Floating Flora kept dashing past the doll’s legs tripping them up. A Prize Pod nervously shivered toward the back. That Shoe Gazer glared at me funny all night.
Mandrake crawled out of me every time I thought about what I did. I can remember it now. It felt… incomparable. The thought of doing it again…! My mouth waters. Another Mandrake crawls out. I shake my head until that madness takes shape and slinks off to a dark corner.
It might need more time but… tonight. It might be tonight. Something in my gut says tonight. I don't wanna miss it, lumpy sure wouldn’t want me too. I keep conversation to a minimum. Mostly just letting them roll around and babble, and do embarrassingly childish rubbish all over my cave like play games. Trying to watch this loser play tag is honestly a sport worth paying munny to watch.
A Chrono Twister nags me all the while. It’s hours past when I’d normally sleep, which isn’t going to kill me, it's just going to make the meetings an ankle biters paradise and I might just lose my Corridor privileges again. It’s obvious Xehanort didn’t want me to get it back. But I'll manage.
It's weird to think that before I didn't have a set sleeping schedule. I miss looking at the desert at night. And the fresh air. Could Xehanort just keel over already?
Tonight’s lighting was provided by some very luminescent greedy orb dropping blob mother fuckers that were a pain in the ass to make. They make the whole cave glow with no fire risk at least. Idiot doesn’t have enough night vision, going to have to work on that. Or maybe it will be dealt with when he’s got a real face? What’s he gonna look like when he’s done? Me again? Will he have my night vision? He didn’t last time but maybe the stupid eye changing thing broke it- shut up. Shut up. Stop. Just stop Vanitas.
At some point, a Flood bounces off the doll and leaps onto a- “Why is there a SWORD in my ROOF?” They panicked and took a breath to blabber but I cut them off, “You can tell me later.” Honestly… It’s cool. Maybe it’ll fall and kill one of the inspectors.
Hours pass. I try creating a corridor, but the barrier still blocks them. It’s insufferably stuffy.
Just as I was about to give up and just have a Yellow Mustard zap me awake at the first sign of something, the doll freezes mid motion landing on the floor. That Shoe Gazer bounds up beside it all weirdly. A Hare Raiser rips the hood off. It's almost like before all that time ago, only those mismatched hideous features all vanish, resetting back to the blank white plastic.
We all held our breath, as it took a moment to just lie there, but then just like before skin and hair grew, its hands twitched with life, and a big set of blue eyes popped open.
It's a strange thing, like a younger me that couldn’t have existed. The hair is the wrong color, a brown, the eyes are Ventus’s, could this be what we would look like merged? But why younger? Why wouldn’t it just be our original face again? I can only see a little bit of the clothes between the torn holes in the coat and I can't really tell what it is other than being red. Something is wrong with me because I have to pull my hand back from touching him carefully. Why do I want to do that?
I expected cheering and prancing about but instead it barely managed to sit up and now it's stuck on its knees, eye locked upwards, and gasping little bits of air. The Wild Bruisers made a move to grab him-it? But the glaring Shoe Gazer and squad of Hareraisers all but mutchled them for even approaching, strengthened by the Not-Doll’s building fear.
Advancing cautiously, because it's my luck and something's definitely gone WRONG again, “Hey? Everything, uh, everything functioning correctly?” In the face of their wheezing, “Ah, anything not working?”
Forget building fear, they freefall into a deep terror as they start to shiver. Tears and snot start streaming down his face before a gasping choking noise crawled out of its mouth. A few wet coughs before the raspy noise escalates to a shrill scream.
From zero to completely overwhelmed in a matter of seconds.
Unversed from all over start scattering in a frenzy as the doll scratches at its chest; not the barely controlled illusion of movement it had before but a direct deliberate attempt to claw off the coat. Fingers getting caught on the zipper pull, legs kicking helplessly at the coat, motions too hysterical and not making progress. An unimaginable level of disgust seeps out of them at pace with their terror.
Why why wHY WHY?! WHY IS IT ALWAYS SOMETHING?! Why can’t anything go right?!
Void Gear is deflected by the bossy Shoegazer, its shield flinging it off to the side. I’m so sick of this garbage! It never ends! Why won’t something just work for once?! My fingers press into the sides of my helmet, I hate this, I hate this. The glass starts to creak under stress.
Flood and Scrappers alike attempt to grab the doll, but at the first one it jolts up in fear and wretches on the floor. The Unversed race off grab rags and a bucket.
From all the wheezing I finally made it out, “Va…va…nii…t- tas!” Their hands rattling weakly toward their chest, face twisted in pain, “Ch-ch… est. Someth- wrong.”
Defects. A cold sinking feeling runs down my back. Vexen warned about defects and we KNOW something’s been wrong. How could we have ever hoped for it to work?
Pushing aside all the Unversed, I finally grab them and it’s not much of a better reaction. Trying to rip their arm away like as if I'd put them to flame. There is definitely something wrong with their breathing, no rhythm or sense to it. With my full weight I pressed against their shoulder to hold them down, but then they just started trying to kick me, “Damn it hold still! Will one of you worthless abominations hold his legs down?!” A pair of Scrapers leap to action. The bossy Shoegazer hops in view, right beside the doll's head, “What the hell’s your problem?!” It hisses, lowering on its haunches like it's trying to threaten me “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, stab me? I don’t have time for this!” Unversed wish they could stab me!
Carefully I get that stupid zipper loose and unzip the new one below it. There didn’t seem to be anything visually wrong with their chest but a single touch with my fingers was cause for a huge wave of discomfort and disgust, a sharp flinch before all they could do was curl away pathetically and vomit pure bile in the bucket. It almost stings, but I'm a bit too distracted with how furious I am at the concept. I've touched them plenty of times before now, what’s different? I didn’t even try to hurt them this time! “What the hell’s happening? What are you feeling?”
“S-som- some thi-ing in. I N.” It was like the words hurt to say. Being forced out part by part. On the last syllable their teeth clicked funny and blood started to dribble out their mouth. They gave up speaking and pointed to their chest. Something was IN their chest?! Nothing had gotten near them! I hate this, I don't know what I'm doing! We can’t even leave to get someone who does!
Fuck it we make it up as we go along. Turning their head away I put my ear to the chest, earning a new round of panicked thrashing and kicking, “Hold still! I’m trying to listen!”
One terribly upset stomach, breathing completely out of control, and a heartbeat so fast and faint I'm amazed they’re still conscious. Nothing sounded wrong, nothing my senses could pick up seemed wrong, are they playing some sick game with me? What could possibly cause this kind of reaction? But the horror is real…
“What EXACTLY do you feel?” At the sound of just more of their feeble cries I pull my fist back to hit them- YOUCH! My arm suddenly has two holes from-That shoegazer actually stabbed me?! Ungrateful little shit! I grab the stupid thing by its pointy bloody antenna and toss it away.
“Some- thin.” Their tears would not stop, their terror consumed them. “I shou’ld’nt. Fff. feel. Any-!” You are trying my patience, what do you MEAN?
“All I can hear is your heartbeat an-” That confusion. That revulsion. It’s too raw! It’s too honest! “What do you mean you don’t-!?”
I can almost hear it. Vexen mentioned it off handedly.
Simplified nervous system.
It’s not the doll’s stupid fault. It’s Vexen’s stupid fault. It's not playing games. It’s just terribly disoriented. Trying it’s best to explain but thanks to Vexen’s big ideas it’s completely unprepared for actually being alive. It doesn’t know.
It just doesn’t know.
I get off the doll, and order the Unversed to give it a bit of space. Dissipating my helmet, I take the chance to pinch my brow as hard as I can and take a few breaths. This sucks. This really fucking sucks. “I don’t know what to tell you man, this sucks.”
From the floor I could only mostly sense their suffering, but there was a tiny, itty bit of hope. When I turned back to look them in their eyes, though their face continued to be trapped in abject agony, that bit of hope grew a little more.
I blew out some air. Rubbed my temples some. Guess I'll still be talking to myself for a bit. I summon my helmet again.
Pointing to their chest, “You feel something in there, right? Something... Let’s say fluttering? Just nod. You don’t seem to be in any condition to speak.” My head cooling off, I think they might have bit their tongue.
They do nod, but with a dose of fake annoyance and fake joy. Our little code remains. “It’s gross huh?” Again they nod, with even faker annoyance and a little more real joy. “Unfortunately, that’s important and can’t be removed.” Devastated. Stop that. “You’ll get over it. Same with breathing. They’re…important.” I feel so fucking stupid. Tired. Goddamn this is dumb, “At the end they’re the only things that matter. If you're missing them, you’re not alive.” My exhaustion is crashing down on me. This is so lame.
But they’re still listening, calming down by a considerable margin. They try to sit up, but who knows what part is causing them distress. If Vexen made it so they couldn't feel their own heartbeat, what’s the chances it understands the feeling of their clothes? Of the rocks underneath them? Of the air touching their face? Of gravity upon their entire body?
A blistering headache free of charge robs me of more thought, compounding my growing agitation with the situation. How much worse can this day even get?
Bed. That’s it, I'm going to bed. Day over. Fuck you. I stand up, and make my way to the other room, “I’m leavin-”
“ST-ST AY!” Sharp painful dread strikes them, worse than ever before. Even worse than when I nearly killed them. Lowly muttering under their breath soft repeated no’s that slowly grew more upset and panicked as they desperately and foolishly attempted to climb to their feet and walk towards me. They only made it two shaky steps before their legs gave out, or more likely the sensations were too much and they had to stop, collapsing to the floor.
Pathetic.
So truly and utterly pathetic.
Barely able to lift from the floor, in a whisper, “Don-don’t leav ve m-me alone…” My stupid body turns to look, their stupid small face devastated. Voice so much weaker but unsteady with tears still endlessly streaming from their big unblinking haunted eyes, “Please don’t leave me.”
It needs a name now. I can’t just keep pretending.
But this is weakness. It always has been. I should be laughing and stomping him down for this. As the Master has done for years. I've worked so hard to avoid those moments, training my whole life, but this thing has never even… I should.
Instead, I find my traitorous hands picking it up off the ground. Holding it from under its arms, I let it dangle limp and helpless. It’s dumb little incorrect face staring at me. Ventus’s stupid eyes, for once not judging. Just staring. That worthless hope rekindled. Why do I run off only a half a dozen brain cells when I'm tired?
I pull down the zipper to my coat, “Look if it would help you get over it faster…” I place their head to my chest, unsure if they could even hear it through the Dark Suit, “I have a heart beat too. Basically, anything with flesh has one.”
At first, they're silent, holding very still to listen, before a much more normal emotion returns. Curiosity. Wonder. I can see their eyes open wider and their mouth uselessly attempt to string together words in a question. It’s clear now, they bit their tongue really bad.
“That’s enough of that.” I just toss them under an arm and take them with me. The bucket and rag holding Flood scurrying at our feet. Bossy Shoegazer already in position to glare all night. What the hell's its problem? It’s a Vanitas of tomorrow issue.
I shove them as fair to the side as I can, before turning away. Ugh, long long day. I thought it would never end…
Eyes are staring at me. Not Unversed eyes. The breathing hasn't really stabilized much either… outside the occasional yawns.
Glaring back at the angry shoe I demand to know, “Has this thing ever slept?”
‘None of us have ever seen it do so.’ It squints, ‘Give it a potion.’
“No.” Rolling over, it looks exhausted. Stupid freak. Just close your eyes and stop thinking. I rummage in my pocket for a moment before finding the exact command I want, “Sleep ya idjit.” The spell cast with the sound of baying sheep.
For a moment, less than a second, there's a stab of shock and fear, before it's eyes finally shut. It’s breathing slows some. It won’t be very good sleep, but that should keep it quiet for the night.
Rolling back over, I sigh in frustration, “Why am I doing this again?” Was any of it worth it? I mean right now it’s making noise and being warm that's so annoying, is it sick? What if it’s sick forever? I'm never going to get to sleep like this…