Among My Stillness Was A Pounding Heart (TerraVen) (Part 1 of 6)
Title: Among My Stillness Was A Pounding Heart Chapter One: A Completely Normal, Average, Not Even Remotely Special Life Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Pairing: TerraVen Rating: T Words: ~6000 Summary: Ventus has entered high school, and he now faces the trials that all students face. Class, bullies, and a crush on someone close to him. These problems, however, may end up seeming small in comparison to the one rather unusual issue looming before him - one that has to do with the past he doesn't remember.
Special Note: This work was commissioned by the lovely @makesuretheyseeme. Thank you so much for commissioning me! It was such a wonderful pleasure to work with you! ^_^
“Get the hell out of our house.”
Ven sneaked to the edge of the hall. The lights were on. Mom and Dad were usually awake late these days. He hadn’t meant to wake up and overhear, but how could he not want to look when he saw three shadows in the lobby instead of two? Who would come over to visit this late at night?
“That’s quite rude.” An older voice. Ven tilted his head. What was that person doing here so late? “You’re terrible to guests.”
“Get the hell out or we’re calling the cops.”
His parents were angry. He inched a bit closer. The light from the lobby cast him in shadow, at least for now. If he stayed quiet, he should be safe.
“So violent. There’s no need. I came only to discuss your allegations against me.”
“Talk to our lawyer.”
Ven dared peek around the corner. His parents stood facing the door, caging the man in before he even fully entered the house. No one had noticed him yet.
“Oh, I have. As have my lawyers. Do you really think you’re going to win this?”
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done to these children. Now get out.” Dad swept his hand out, nearly clipping the guest on the nose. “Honey, get the phone.”
His mom raced off toward the couch in the living room. Ven’s dad got into the other man’s face. “You’re going to wish you’d never met our kids.”
The other man just smiled. “Of course.” Then, suddenly, his gaze turned to stare directly into Ven’s eyes. “Ah. Here’s the true interloper.”
“What?” Ven’s dad looked, as well. He jumped at the sight of Ven before him. “Ven! Quick, go back to bed.”
“That’s right.” The old man smiled, and Ven found he couldn’t look away. His heart slowed. His breath stilled in his chest. “Hide al͚̯̫͢o̖̮̩͜ṉ̢̣̫ȩ̳͎̥̱ a̮͕̟̝͜n̡͍̭͖d̟̮͈͓͕̮̮͚̩̖̯̖͢ f̢̥̤͈̙̠̖̜̣ͅo̡͚̯̫̳̳̦̱̯̣͔̝ͅr̨͍̮̰̮g͍̖͕͙͜ȩ͍̠͉͕̙̗͍̰ṱ̨̦̩̩͎̩̳̝͍̜͖.̧̤̣̟͙̱͖̜̠ͅ M̬̳͕̭̩̞̗̪̫̲̳̲͂͆̍̑͗̏ȧ̭̣͔͚̐̉̅̇̍͊̀ͅy̱̫̪̩̮̬͉͔͉͐̎̓̾͋̃̌̾́̄̌b̫͇̫͙̠̖̥͕̰̄͗̆̒̒e͇̮̣͇͚͖͉̭̮͆̂͗̈͂̀̅̾͊ t͚̲͇̩͖̤̫̫́́̋̄̾͋̊͑h͔̬̳͍̯̜̙̮̠̘̠̠̊͌͗̀e̯̜̗̬͊̓̍͒͆̊͋͆͊̀̽͐n̲͖̝͖̊̒̈̅͆̌͋̿ ÿ͈̮̖͍̥͈̰̅̂͂ö̭͇̞͍̫͈̜̪͍̯͆̂̒̄͑́͛̿̌ṷ̦̰̞͔̩̄͂͋̎͊̅'͓͉̪͙͓͕̭̗̱̬͚̫̇̿́̍͊̚l͔̱̖̮͎̱̗̜͙̘̽͛̈́̋̆͛͆ͅl̞͚̙͈̯̓́̊̾ͅ b͔͈̠͔͔̭̰̳̫̯̉̄̉̋̄́͋̈̽ė͔̘̜̪͍͈̩̝̗̄͐̊̎̒̒͆ͅ f̜͖͖͈͓̙͈̥͛̿͑͗o͍̪͈̯͙͒̽̓͂̅ͅȑ̩̩̖͖͇̙͍̘̗́̿̐́̋͂̌̓̈́͊̽g̮͈͇͉̤͕̱̮̲͙̬̓̑̄̎̈́̽i͚̜̪̘̒͊͋̓̈́̿́̏v͔͕̮͉͎̬̖̪̤̏̂̊́ḙ̲͚̣͙͕͍̓̎̎̄́͊͊̈́̽̽͛̋n̯̘̙͕̦̖͈̣̣͚̝̾͂͗̎ͅ.̣̜̝̠̌̆̄͑͋̂̃̃̐̈͛
Ven’s eyes snapped open.
His head throbbed. He grabbed it as he sat up, causing it to pound harder, in time with every unsteady, staccato beat of his pulse. His breath stuttered in gasps. His hands shook. Sweat cooled on his neck. He blinked and looked around. Had a bright light woken him up? He thought he could still see it behind his eyelids.
He lay back down. Whatever had woken him, it was gone now. He closed his eyes and waited for his heart rate to steady, then blew out a deep breath. This time when he fell asleep, nothing woke him.
Ven adjusted his collar one more time, only to frown. He had no idea how Terra and Aqua managed to look so done up with just the school uniform. Maybe their couple of years’ extra practice was what had given them the skill. He stared down at the tie around his neck. Terra always looked so sophisticated, his hair pulled back and cheekbones all… out there. He flushed. He, on the other hand, looked like a kid playing dress-up. The sleeves of the shirt were a little too long, the vest hung loose around his chest and waist, and the pants needed to be rolled up a couple of times to keep from dragging on the floor.
He covered his face with his hands and huffed. It was time to just go.
He grabbed his bookbag and made for the door, only to look behind him. A single, hard-backed chair, hardwood floors, and a tiny TV set, all sitting lonely. He hadn’t turned the TV on for days because of his ever-accruing piles of homework, and a layer of dust had settled over the monitor. The back of the TV faced the kitchen, the countertops still clean from his efforts two nights before. He hadn’t had time to cook properly, either. Aqua was gonna be mad.
He opened the door. One good thing about school was getting away from the house.
The building stood just over four blocks from his house, an old, white stone structure that stood three stories tall, one for each grade. Ven had known the building well before he’d ever stepped though its doors; he’d stood in front of that walled gate waiting for his friends to get off from school so that he could go home with them. Aqua and Terra. He saw them now, waiting in front of the gate for him. They called out to him and waved as he approached.
He grinned.
“Good morning, Ven,” Aqua said as he neared. She leaned off of the wall and fixed some unknown aberration in his hair.
“Morning, Aqua,” he said, and let her try futilely to tame his wild hair. He turned his gaze to Terra. “Morning, Terra.”
Terra smiled down at him. Ven’s heart did a double-jump. “Good morning, Ven.” He reached out and tussled Ven’s hair, ruining Aqua’s efforts. The young woman huffed at him. It made Terra grin. Forget the double-jump; Ven’s heart started leapfrogging into his throat. “How was your day yesterday? You didn’t come home with us again.”
He blushed. Quickly, he scanned the horizon. They had enough time to talk; he’d raced the four blocks between him and the school, trying to get away from his empty house. “I had a lot of homework, so I thought I should study a little.”
“Well, good for you,” Aqua said. Ven looked back in time to see her nudge Terra. “Your schooling is important.”
“But if you ever need help, you know we’re here, right?” Terra asked. Ven nodded mutely. Terra messed up Ven’s hair again. His hand was warm. Four years, and this was the one thing that he recognized instinctively: the touch of Terra’s hand. His heart nearly spat itself up from his chest.
“Come on,” Aqua said. “Let’s get to class.”
It was early. Ven didn’t want to go in yet. Aqua and Terra were heading inside, however, so there was nothing else to do. He walked in, as well.
School was always the site of pure chaos in the mornings; students gathered to speak with one another about their afternoons, the games they’d played, the homework they’d struggled with, their family squabbles. Ven had grown accustomed to it all, but it was Terra and Aqua who had mastered the hallways. They said hello to everyone as they stopped by Ven’s locker to change out his shoes, then by their own. Two girls came up to Aqua to ask her how her day had been, pulling her slightly off to the side. That left Ven alone with Terra.
He took several deep breaths.
“Are you all right, Ven?”
Ven nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to Terra. He was finishing putting his school shoes on. Ven leaned down to pick up his travel shoes, handing them to Terra once he was ready. Terra closed his locker and waited for Ven’s reply. “Yes?” he squeaked. His eyes widened. That had not just happened.
Terra tilted his head. His smile dimmed a bit. “Ven. You know you can tell me anything?”
Ven nodded twice as hard as a normal human. He wanted to pound his head against the lockers. “Uh-huh.” No. Try that again. “I know, Terra.” There. Good. “I’m just a little tired.”
Those lips slipped straight into a frown. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard, Ven. You’ll get there, just like us.” Terra placed his hand on Ven’s shoulder. Ah. That familiar warmth again. “There’s no need to rush.”
Oh. Ven smiled. “I’m not.” He reached up to touch Terra’s hand.
“Ven! Terra! Come on!”
Ven nearly launched himself into Terra’s chin. He snapped his hand back down to his side, his face suddenly tomato red. Terra chuckled. “Aqua is insane about getting to class on time.”
He chuckled, too. It sounded like he’d choked a cat. “Yeah.”
They both headed down the hall, chasing Aqua’s heels.
He had to say goodbye to them as they reached the stairs. Terra and Aqua would be heading up, literally as well as figuratively, while he stayed on the ground floor. They were only a few of those already making for their classrooms; the bulk of conversations were continuing behind them, as students gathered together in chunks in the front of the school, trying to hold off from going to class until necessary. Not Aqua, though. She was one of those who had everything out and ready before any other student so much as entered the room. He guessed that was setting an example, though, as president of the student council.
Both Terra and Aqua hesitated at the door. They turned to Ven. “Have a nice day at school, Ven,” Aqua said.
“Come home with us?” Terra asked. “If you’re still having trouble, we’ll help you. It’s not a burden.”
Ven smiled. Terra looked almost worried. “I will,” he decided. No matter what, he would this time. Today would be different. Terra reached out and ruffled his hair again, his hand lingering for a moment longer than usual before he pulled it back. Ven wanted to lean forward, chase after it. He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you guys after school.”
He backed away, one step at a time, before he made a complete wreck of himself and chased after them like it was his first day. Two months into the new school year, and he was still acting like a new kid. He took a deep breath. At least he was in the same school as them, he told himself for the hundredth time. It could be worse. He could be all alone again.
He headed down the hall to his classroom, past the music rooms and the art rooms. Terra and Aqua would be heading up the stairs, moving past the science labs to their own rooms, Aqua in the first class, Terra in the second. Unlike Ven, they would share lunch together.
Ven looked at his classroom – Class 1-B. He took another few deep breaths before stepping inside. They all left him in a whoosh of relief.
The classroom was empty. For now.
He sat in his seat and looked at the board. Whoever had been in charge of readying the classroom had left, likely to meet up with their friends before class began. He sighed again and placed his bookbag on top of the desk. Homework first, then books, carefully on top of the homework to ensure it didn’t get grabbed up and ripped before class began. Pencils left inside the bookbag so that they couldn’t be broken or used as weapons against him. Bookbag placed back down on the floor, sandwiched between his legs so it couldn’t be taken or rifled through. Arms crossed over books on top of the desk to keep them from being swept to the floor.
There. He was ready.
Students started meandering in. A few looked at him, but none said hello. They knew the law of the land. He didn’t mind. He’d be scared to speak with himself if he was in their shoes.
It was only a few moments before class began that he walked in, hand in pockets, shoulders slouched as he kicked the door open. Ven watched him as he sauntered into the room. Those bright yellow eyes caught on Ven. He grinned. “Why, hi there, Ventious,” Vanitas said, deliberately drawling Ventus’ name out into something unrecognizable. He sidled over beside Ven’s desk and leaned down. Ven tried to keep his back straight. There wasn’t enough time for Vanitas to do anything to him. “You got out of bed in time again this morning. Congratulations!” Ven pressed his lips together to keep from grimacing. “Did you have a nice Pop-Tart breakfast this morning?”
Ven didn’t bother reminding Vanitas that he, too, didn’t have a mother to cook for him. That wasn’t the point of this, and they both knew it. “Good morning, Vanitas,” he said.
“‘Good morning, Vanitas,’” Vanitas parroted, his voice lifting a full octave. The man kicked his desk. Ven gripped his books tight. “No one around to teach you how to be a man, either.”
Ven’s fingers trembled. His lips firmed. He thought of Terra, of how the older teen had reached out for him, trying to take Ven’s worries away. He opened his mouth to argue, to say he knew exactly what being a man was all about, when the teacher walked in. “Everyone in their seats,” the professor said, not even bothering to look up yet from the papers in his hands. He placed them down and looked around. “You,” he said, pointing to Vanitas. “Sit. Now.”
Vanitas made a face, but he did as ordered, if with more showmanship than required. Vanitas crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. The professor, however, didn’t care in the slightest. He just waited through the class representative’s orders to stand and bow, then waved them all back into their seats. “Yes, yes. Did all of you finish your assignments?” The teacher looked around, pulling that weird move of his where one eye looked outlandishly larger than the other. “Well, if not, prepare to suffer. Hand in your completed assignments to your class rep.” Already, Ven was doing so, lifting his science classwork from beneath his books and passing it along to the front. Ienzo, sitting straight and tall in the middle of the class, reached out to accept the pages offered. Vanitas, Ven noted, didn’t hand anything in.
Oh, well. It wasn’t his problem. He had enough of those already. He straightened in his seat and paid attention to the teacher. When Vanitas sent a dark glare his way, he pretended he didn’t notice.
Something was wrong with Ven.
He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Aqua kept sending long glances behind them as they made their way up the stairs, her bookbag swinging slightly by her side as they ascended.
He didn’t know what to do. Whatever was troubling Ven, he wasn’t talking about it. The urge to demand answers itched just beneath the skin. Just a few days ago, Ven had been all smiles all the time. The usual ray of light that left Terra staring, nearly blinded. Now there were shadows around him. Clouds. Terra stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at Aqua. “What do we do?”
His question stopped her. She paused beside him and looked away. “You know he wants to prove he can take care of himself,” she said, repeating something that, yes, he already knew. “Just like when he moved out and became a ward of the state. He doesn’t want to be a burden.”
“He’s not.” But Terra didn’t know how to make Ven see that. As bright as Ven’s smile was, Terra knew how dim that light could get. How dim it had once been, the day he’d been brought to their home.
“Well, we’ll just have to show him that, won’t we?”
He turned to see Aqua smiling at him. He returned the gesture. Yes, that was what they’d decided all those years ago, when Ven had asked Master Eraqus to let him become a ward. They’d freaked out, told Ven he was part of their family, asked the master to let Ven stay. Only for the master to tell them that it was something Ventus needed them to let him do. “Support him,” the master had said. “He needs to know you care for him whether you’re bound by legal ties or not. Then, perhaps, he will return to us.”
“Right,” he said. Support Ven. That was all he wanted to do. If he could only make sure that smile always shown brightly, then every effort would be worth it.
But, he thought as they made their ways to their separate classrooms, despite how Ven had seemed to brighten up, this descent felt too much like those days when Ven had chosen to move out. He’d been happy to stop by their home almost every day, to eat with them and talk with them and even to sleep with them, cocooned between him and Aqua and then, when a bit older, with him or alone on Terra’s bed. Terra had thought they’d been making headway.
So what was making Ven pull away yet again? What had made him return to those days when he’d hidden himself away from them?
Ven lost a hold of his bookbag, nearly ripping the handle off before deciding it wasn’t worth it. Vanitas smirked as he held the thing up, shaking it. “The rest of your homework in here? Mind if I take a look?”
“Yes,” Ven said, instantly regretting it.
The smirk widened. One long, black eyebrow raised high. “Oh, really?” Vanitas slammed the bookbag into the wall. Several students hurried past, ducking low to avoid looking either Ven or Vanitas in the eye. “Something you’re hiding, baby Ven? A picture of your dead parents, maybe?”
Ven sucked in a breath.
“No mommy to come help.” Vanitas made a show of looking around, taking in the lunch break crowd moving to the cafeteria. “No friends, either.” That grin turned into something downright wicked. He fingered the zipper to Ven’s pack and slowly opened it up. The way he was holding the thing, everything inside would come tumbling out. “Nobody to care.”
“I do have friends,” Ven said, then realized he was walking right into Vanitas’ trap. He clamped his lips shut. Too late.
Vanitas ripped the bag open, nearly tearing the zipper from its teeth. Ven’s belongings spilled like waste to the floor. Ven distinctly heard at least one pencil snap. “Where are they?” he asked. Ven didn’t answer, and Vanitas laughed. “Friends? Who would want to be friends with you?”
Ven kept silent. He looked down at his things, but he didn’t bother trying to pick them up. Not yet. Wait until Vanitas was done, then get them. That had been taught to him by experience.
Vanitas tossed Ven’s bag down the hall. It skittered for a moment before thudding lightly against someone’s feet. While that person took care to step over it, the next few people, unaware of the bag’s origins, did not. Ven winced.
“Well? I don’t see anyone.” Vanitas spread his arms out. “Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“My friends don’t need to show up for me to know they’re there.” Ven lifted his chin. Vanitas’ grin disappeared. Ven gulped, but took that first step forward. “They’re with me. They’re my strength.”
Unsurprisingly, that ended about as well as every other time he’d dared stand up to Vanitas. Vanitas stomped forward, crushing Ven’s papers beneath his boots. Another pencil snapped. Vanitas reached for Ven’s neck. He stumbled back, only to have his vest caught in Vanitas’ grip. He lifted high. Ven had to lean onto his tip-toes to keep his vest from tearing at the seams. “What strength?” He reared his fist back.
“What’s going on here?”
Their class representative pushed through the crowd. Vanitas tsked. He lowered his fist. “See?” He smiled. “You have no strength and no friends. No class rep, no protection.” Vanitas dropped him. While Ven struggled for balance, Vanitas twisted his foot, crumpling Ven’s papers until they ripped. Vanitas smirked at the look the tearing sounds evoked on Ven’s face. “See you later, Venny.”
Ven breathed hard. Ienzo came up beside him. The few students still meandering in the halls made way. “Ven?”
Ven shivered. With trembling hands, he reached down for his things. His English homework had been torn. He would have to spend lunch rewriting it. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and grabbed everything he could. He looked around for his bookbag. It had been kicked down the opposite end of the hall. Even from this distance, he could see the footprints all over it. His heart sank. He wouldn’t have time to clean it and redo his homework. The marks would remain.
Ienzo walked over to the bookbag and picked it up. A couple other students, now that Vanitas was gone, bent down to help him pick up his things. One, a petite girl, even sat on the floor and pulled out a sharpener. She slowly fixed his pencils, one by one. Ven tried to thank them all, too, but his throat choked up and he had to be silent or risk letting the tears fall.
He wasn’t going to cry. This was nothing. So his things were destroyed. So what? They were just things. These people were taking time out of their lunches, too, in order to help him. That was something Vanitas couldn’t understand. Something he’d been wrong about.
The girl held out his pencils for him and only smiled when he just nodded and sniffed and took them from her. She pulled her short black hair behind her ear and stood, silently helping order his things into a pile and put them in the bag Ienzo held open. He did the same.
With everything back, Ienzo zipped the thing closed and helped Ventus stand. “I’m going to report him,” he said, lightly slapping Ven’s bookbag in a futile effort to clean it. “Don’t,” he said when Ven opened his mouth to protest. “This isn’t about being weak or strong or some sort of tattletale. It’s about him hurting another person and getting away with it. Though,” he muttered, “who knows if it will work, considering who his guardian is.” Ven shut his mouth. Ienzo smiled despite his last words. Looking at him, Ven could see why he was class rep. He seemed more than smart. His words proved him capable, too. One day, Ven promised himself, he would be like Ienzo. Like Terra. One day, he would be the one calling the bully off of someone else.
One day.
He looked back down at his bookbag as Ienzo handed it back to him. He could see distinct footprints still. He covered them with his hand, then smiled at Ienzo. “All right. I understand. Thanks for everything.”
“It was nothing. I’m glad you’re all right.” Ienzo moved as if to walk Ven to the cafeteria, only to stop when Ven didn’t follow. His brows lowered.
“I was just… on my way to the bathroom,” Ven said, looking down to the floor. There was no sense in telling Ienzo he’d been heading for some food; he hadn’t had time in the morning to fix himself a bento. If he’d gone to Terra’s and Aqua’s place last night, Aqua would have made him one. But if he’d gone, then they would likely have seen how Ven had cradled his shoulder long into the evening, wincing as pain spiked long after Vanitas had let his arm go.
Then again, he realized as Ienzo silently led him to the restroom, the class rep had to have noticed that Ven carried no bento in his case. Which meant he knew better and was simply not calling Ven out on his lie. He stared at his feet, face flushed red. His fingers went white around the strap of his bag.
He went to the restroom, thankfully unsupervised, and then scurried back to the classroom. Several students had already pushed their desks together to sit with each other. Ven was one of the few who sat alone. That was for the best. He had to get his schoolwork done.
He pulled out the tattered remains of his English homework and stared at the ripped pages. Suddenly he felt like crying again.
He had friends. Good friends. Friends who were more like family. One of whom he cared for even more than family allowed. His hands shook as he pulled out one of his newly sharpened pencils, half the length it had once been. He sniffed as quietly as he could and pulled out a new notepad to work on.
Those good friends wouldn’t hesitate to help him. He knew that. It was why he was trying so hard to take care of this on his own. Terra and Aqua had taken him in as family. They’d looked after him when he’d been able to do little more than blink. They’d raised him as much as Master Eraqus, had helped him through his nameless nightmares and held him when he’d felt ready to break apart. The day he’d realized he couldn’t remember his parents, Aqua had held him to her chest and let him cry for hours, and Terra had ushered him to bed, hugging Ven tight ‘to ward off the nightmares before they reached him.’
Every memory he had was one in which they’d grown up, matured, in order to help him. He’d left without much thought as to why, only to realize he hadn’t wanted to burden them any further. He’d hoped that, if he left, they could live their high school lives in peace and happiness. Able to be kids for a little bit.
He also hoped that, by the time they’d gotten that chance, he might have grown strong enough that, just maybe, he might be able to join them again. As a family.
So he had to be strong enough to handle this, too. It was just another part of his promise to himself. He could do it. This was nothing.
He sniffed again. Definitely nothing.
Classes finally finished for the day. Terra had already put everything away despite the dark glare it had garnered from his teacher. As soon as the bell rang, he stood.
“Terra.”
He turned to the voice, already waving goodbye. “Sorry, Zack. I have someone waiting.”
“Ah!” Zack held out his hand as Terra made his way to the exit, swerving around the rest of the students. “Is it Aqua? Hey! Terra!”
He couldn’t name the reason for his haste. There had been nothing in Ven’s countenance that morning to make it appear like he would renege again. Still, Terra couldn’t help the feeling that Ven was slipping away from him. The feeling chased him down the hall and around the bend to the stairs. He nearly flew down to the first floor, having to apologize to two second-years as they stood speaking side-by-side, nearly taking up the full space of the stairwell.
Aqua would wonder where he’d gone. Then again, she would figure it out. He wasn’t the only one who was worried, after all.
He rocketed out of the stairwell and pushed the door open, parting the sea of students flowing past. One look around told him Ventus wasn’t there yet. He’d wanted to get downstairs before Ven left his classroom. He didn’t know if he’d been that successful, but he could at least hope he’d made it before Ven reached the gate and had to wait for them to show up.
If he waited. If he didn’t hide from them again.
He stopped. The students in the hall were scurrying forward, yes, but their heads were down. A few looked over their shoulders with furrowed brows. One nearly bumped into him, only to mumble an apology and skirt around.
Terra frowned. One scan of the crowd showed him a small wave moving past the lockers near the end of the hall. Near classes 1-B and 1-D.
He had no reason to believe Ven was involved in whatever was going on. Nothing but the rising ache in his chest and the memory of the wide, almost panicked look on Ven’s face when Terra had asked him if he was all right.
Terra pushed through the crowd. At first, no one let him pass; he was headed the opposite direction of the swarm, toward the classrooms instead of away. Then, moments later, a few of the students moved. Maybe it was because he was clearly an upperclassman. Maybe it was because they knew where he was headed and wanted to help him get there. Maybe it was just the look on his face. He didn’t care about the reason, only that it worked.
He could hear a little bit, now that he was getting closer. Shouted words. He strained his ears. “…thought that would help you? Huh? As if anyone would dare going after Xehanort’s ward.” A smaller, calmer voice answered the first. Terra couldn’t hear it over the sound of a sudden burst of laughter just behind him. He thought it must have been a trick of his hearing that he thought it might have sounded like Ven. “Unlike with you, I was taught how to be strong. When he hears about this, he’s going to be proud of me. But you.”
It was as if it had been choreographed. Just as Terra got within range of the lockers, the students all shifted to the side, and Terra saw. Ven. Little Ven, held by the collar of his shirt by another freshman, holding his bag slightly behind him as if defending it as the boy used his free arm to slap Ven across the face. Terra let out an aborted sound as black colored the edges of his vision. Ven tripped as the other boy shook him. The boy smirked. He used Ven’s compromised balance to throw him into the lockers. Ven bounced and arched his back – the knobs on the lockers must have dug into his back.
Terra tore through the few students left in his way. Ven’s enemy took only a single step before Terra flew in front of him. He held out a single hand, hiding Ven behind it. The boy stopped short at the sight of him.
The first few words Terra thought were like darkness on his tongue. They burned. He fought them back, only to snap out a deep, “back away. Now,” that nonetheless carried with it the same level of threat. The boy backed away. A few students stopped trying to run away and turned to watch. In mere moments, a small ring had formed around them.
The brat looked over Terra’s shoulder at Ven. Terra didn’t dare look away to check, but he could hear Ven breathing loudly. Terra’s heart thrummed in his chest. “Little Ven needs to ask for help again, huh?” He sneered. Terra bristled.
“He doesn’t have to.” A small murmuring whispered through the crowd. Above it came, suddenly, Aqua’s voice, asking what was going on, her tone carrying all the authority of the student council president. “Ven has friends who will choose to defend him.” He stepped forward. His entire body snapped with the urge to act. “Where are yours?”
The boy grimaced. For a wild second, Terra thought the squint of those eyes became one of pain. The boy took another step back. Suddenly he looked short. Small. His lips trembled in a snarl before he turned on his heel and stomped away. The ring made a hasty opening for him to retreat. Through it swerved Aqua, making a beeline for the both of them. “What happened?” she asked.
In answer, Terra turned to Ven and knelt, gently touching Ven’s cheek. It was red and hot to the touch. Ven did not meet his gaze. “…Hey, Terra.”
“Are you all right?” he asked, ignoring the guilty tone of Ven’s voice. He bent Ven’s head just enough to touch the back of it, checking for bumps. He found one. He hissed in sympathy.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ven said, even though he wasn’t. He wasn’t. “I’m sorry.”
Carefully, Terra ruffled Ven’s hair, mindful of the injury. His heart felt like lead in his chest. “Please don’t apologize. I want to help you. You know that.”
Ven nodded. Still, he refused to look at Terra or grant him the sunlight of that smile. “Yeah.”
Aqua came up to stand by both of them, either accidentally or, more likely, deliberately shielding Ven from any spectators’ gazes. “Come on. Let’s get you to the nurse’s station.”
“I’m fine,” Ven repeated, his lip moving into something like a pout.
Aqua opened her mouth to argue. Terra held up one hand, waylaying her, and knelt in front of Ven. He took Ven’s shoulders gently, worried that there were more injuries he couldn’t yet see. How long, he wondered, had this been going on? How much had he not seen? How much pain had he been unable to protect Ven from? “I’m sorry.” The words hadn’t been what Ven had expected; those shoulders jerked beneath Terra’s hands. Finally, Ven looked up at him. Terra met that gaze head-on. “I failed you.”
Ven shook his head, his eyes wide. “No,” he said. Those hands came up to grip his wrists. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did.” He leaned forward, just enough that their words became for them only. Aqua shifted where she stood and made a hissing noise. Scaring the onlookers away, Terra guessed. “I should have noticed. Done something sooner.”
Terra saw red creep up Ven’s neck. “I wanted to take care of it on my own,” he said, his voice small. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t want you to see.”
Terra took a careful breath. They’d told Ven a million times that he didn’t need to shoulder everything himself. That had never worked. It was time Terra put everything down. Instead of telling Ven. Showing him. Just like Aqua said.
He touched Ven’s cheek again. “What you carry,” he said, “I carry, too.” He leaned forward. “Otherwise, what use am I?” He leaned up and kissed Ven’s cheek.
Ven stilled, save for his lips. They opened up enough to let out a high-pitched, inarticulate squeak.
“My strength,” he said, pulling back, daring to let the kiss linger on them both, “has always come from you. From Aqua. From Master Eraqus. You’re what matter enough to make me strong. This?” He traced his thumb along the spot he’d kissed, even hotter now than it had been moments before. “This is proof of my weakness.”
“You’re not weak!” Ven cried, launching forward. Terra’s balance wobbled as Ven wrapped his arms around his neck. Aqua grabbed Terra’s shoulder to steady them. “You’re the strongest person I know!”
“Thanks,” Aqua murmured, but Terra saw her smile.
Terra pulled Ven tight to him. Ven’s shoulders shook. Terra acted like he couldn’t tell. “Me? You shouldered this all on your own, longer than I can imagine.” He curled his face into the crook of Ven’s neck. “You’re so strong, Ven. I’m so proud of you.”
Ven sniffed. His shoulders rose sharply, only to stutter back down. Those little fingers clawed deep into the back of Terra’s shirt. Ven’s cheek felt hot against Terra’s neck. Likely from the bruise. Ven buried his face in Terra’s skin. “I haven’t been able to make him stop.”
“Strength doesn’t mean making others do things,” Terra said. “It means holding yourself to your path, even when others want you to stop.” Ven’s shudders rose, crescendoed, and finally began to calm. “You never stopped being you, Ven. That’s why you’re strong.”
Ven’s sniffles turned a bit watery. Aqua crouched down beside them, patting Ven’s back. “We love you,” she said, the words soft and serene and strong, just as strong as anything Terra had ever heard. “We want to be with you, not just when things are easy, but when they’re hard. Because being with you, the person we love, as much as we can, makes us happy. It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”
After a short moment, Ven nodded against Terra’s shoulder. He still remove his face from Terra’s neck.
She looked into Terra’s eyes and smiled. “Do you want to come home with us? And stay the night?”
Ven nodded again.
They wouldn’t ask for more. Not now, while Ven was so vulnerable. But later. Later, they would ask that Ven complete their family again.
Terra held Ven until he was ready, and then they parted. Aqua took Ven’s bag, which had some marks that could only mean it had taken some damage at some point. They didn’t bring it up. Ven sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes. They didn’t mention that, either. Instead Terra reached out a single hand, waiting to see if Ven would take it. Ven stared at it for several moments. His face turned red as a ripe apple, but finally, those warm digits wrapped around Terra’s. A small smile played on Ven’s lips.
It was the first ray of light peeking from behind the clouds. Terra felt warmer than he had in days.
