It was strange. He never expected everything in the Afterlife to be written in Japanese. Weirdly enough, he could understand it all, but being that he was dead, maybe that bit wasn't so weird after all.
Vanitas Nomura hadn't been wandering this city of the dead for very long. He knew it was a city of the dead without really needing to be told; the looks on the faces of those he saw drifting through the streets were just as stricken and aimless as he himself felt. Time seemed to drag for him, though, and he didn't know if it was this place, or because he was alone. Time always dragged when he didn't have anyone to share it with.
He'd focused on trying to control his emotions. He had no idea if he still had the power to summon the Unversed in the next life, and since there were other people around, dead or not, letting his emotions run rampant remained unsafe. Easier said than done. He had a lot of emotions right now; chief among them were rage, grief, and regret. Rage at the fucking god who had put him here. Grief at the sadness his family would feel when they realized he was gone. Regret at the fact that he'd died at the tender age of 21...there was so much he'd left unfinished, and it ate away at his Heart.
Steeping himself in a sense of pained resignation had proven to be the easiest way to control the torrent of emotions within him. He was dead. His life was over, and there was nothing he could do. That was it.
More than a few times, he thought he might cry. It was too much; there was just too much to lament, too much left undone, unsaid. But if he let a single tear fall, more would follow, he knew--and a tidal wave of emotions after that, leaving him crumpled in the streets in a sobbing heap of black leather and red jeans, his body vomiting Darkness, spawning Unversed into Shibuya. Not a mental image he planned on letting come to life.
So his face stayed dry as he walked the streets aimlessly, hands in his pockets, golden eyes dull.
Until he saw him.
His mirror image--well, he was once. He'd always been a little shorter, being that he was younger than Nomura. And recently, the other had acquired blue eyes. He'd acquired them in a spell that Nomura himself had cast, seconds before his death.
No. He had to be seeing things. No, this could not be real. No, no, whatever god is listening other than Godi please say this isn't real, please please please NO--
His own death, he could handle. His own grief, he could control. Life would move on without him; his siblings still had Riku and Big Sis to protect them.
But not his family. God, no, no, no, not his brothers. Not Kid.
Kid was here. Which meant that Kid was dead.
Before Nomura had time to realize what he was doing, he'd run up to the other Vanitas, wrapped his arms around the shorter form, and yanked him into a desperate, crushing hug. When he came back to himself, he realized he was crying--not sobbing yet, thankfully, but the fountains of tears could no longer be stopped.
"Why," he choked. "Why. Why are you here; you aren't supposed to be here!"
somethings wrong. van hans't been home. wont answer his phone. something is Wrong. I feel wrong. sick. tired...i can't feel him. I'm scared. Dont kno how long can stay awake someone help
Nomura's typical knock went to the rhythm of 'Shave and a Haircut,' because he was a little shit. But not this one. This was soft but not hesitant. It was a purposeful rap, quick and clean, meant to be heard by only one set of ears in the beach house, and not the other.
It was a sound that marked the beginning of an end. A bell tolling to signal an emancipation from eternity.
Vanitas reflected that as far as stealth went, wearing bright red jeans probably wasn't the best idea. His black Arctic Monkeys t-shirt and black leather jacket definitely blended in well with the night--but it wouldn't matter soon. Soon, him and the godling he called Kitten would be out of here, stepping into the nothingness between worlds.
The knock startled him, but he was in no way asleep. He was sitting up in bed, watching the blond he was so damn lucky to still have. And that knock was about to make everything better.
Maybe once this was over--once this mortality thing was dealt with--he could ask what he wanted.
But not tonight. Tonight, he got up and walked to the door, opening it and staring down his brother with ethereal golden eyes. Eyes he intended to rid himself of.
A heavy sigh, and then he cast one last look to Ven before shifting out the door and closing it behind him. "Ready?"
Nomura met those ethereal eyes, his own gold glinting catlike in the dimness, taking every scrap of ambient light in the night air and refracting it twentyfold to let him see in the darkness as clearly as if by the light of a midday sun.
He nodded, just once, sombre--and then cracked a ghost of a grin. "Ready." He kept his voice at a whisper; there was no need to risk waking Ven. "You can drive. This'll be the only time I get to see you do your god-jump thing; might as well take the novelty."
He didn't expect to get any more mirth out of this venture than that meager smile, either. He knew what he was doing; he'd checked, double-checked, triple and quadruple checked. He knew the spell by heart and still planned to have the book on hand. But no matter how prepared he was, there was still a possibility that something could go wrong. That possibility always existed with magic, no matter how great someone's skill.
So he'd take his smiles where he could find them.
Kitten smiles back. Obviously. Because regardless of the risk, he's about to make his life so much better. Incomprehensibly better. Mortality is just around the corner and it's not hard at all to give a little grin. "It's not that cool, y'know."
But he steps forward and wraps his arms around his brother, who's really only a few inches taller. Their necklaces clink together when he does, and by the time he says, "Close your eyes" he's already concentrating on stepping.
He doesn't do it often. It makes him feel unnatural and he hates it. But also he likes to pretend that he's his brother, and only able to use portals. And he sort of is his brother, really--they both recognize the destination in the exact same way.
"Let's do this."
Nomura obeyed, shutting his eyes with a rueful little smile. Kid was excited about this, and had every reason to be, and Nomura was excited for him. Excited to do this for him, excited to see his brother happy again. To give him his own life. But Nomura bore the burden of consequence, for all of this. He didn't want anything to happen--and though he'd taken all possible precautions, he was scared.
But fear came with the package of constant anxiety that Nomura possessed. He'd accepted that. The trick was just not to show it.
"Hit it, Kid."
Easier said than done. The idea of the jump didn't unnerve him, no--he'd hopped through the Multiverse with Sora before, and that the way Sora used the Heartless to pull his way between worlds felt quite similar to the way that Kid yanked the two of them through worlds. But it was the task before him--and their damned destination--that set his teeth on edge.
He had absolutely zero desire to return to the place where he'd been 'born.' But it was the best place for this. It had to be done.
Vanitas immediately got to work. He focused his energy--the power behind a million galaxies and countless stars, because that's what it took to make a body from scratch. It was still effortless. Although the buildup created a glow in his hands matching the one on the ground, and for a few moments he was just spinning the golden tendrils of light. Like a spider making a web.
"Want anything before all this power goes away?" he tried to joke as he worked on his new vessel. Nomura was supposed to be working on setting them up--getting the book ready and reading over the spell one last time. "Food? New clothes?"
It's a light approach to something so dark. Something so scary. But by the time his body was finished--and he spent extra time on the eyes--the nerves had started to kick in. "You deserve it. After this I swear to myself I'm taking you somewhere cool and spending a shitton of money I don't have."
Yes, Nomura was supposed to be setting up the spell circle, but for a moment, all he could do was stare. Most people would have found it unnerving watching a god spin a body out of golden threads of light, but to Vanitas, the sight was nothing less than a blessing. Did he want anything? For the moment, he was just content to watch, to admire the use of a magic more masterful and more intense than anything he'd be able to accomplish in his own lifetime. As a student of magic, it was a privilege to witness.
But he shook himself out of his miniature trance as the new body formed. He took a moment to marvel at his "baby brother's" work, his gaze settling particularly on the eyes. The deep blue of those orbs made a bright, genial grin split Nomura's face in two.
"Shit," he muttered to himself, delighted. He'd comment on how much he approved of the change later. "Honestly Kid, I don't ask for a lot." It was true, too; Nomura wasn't really a materialistic person. Sure he collected dead things, but that was a hobby, not an act of covetousness, and sure he made clothes, but that was also a hobby, not an act of vanity. ...Okay, well, maybe a little vanity was involved. ...Or more than a little. But really. "I fuckin' love good food, you know that, but right now all I want is to see you lookin' out those new eyes." He nearly wiggled in delighted anticipation--nothing would make him happier than to see his family happy.
Without further ado, Nomura stepped over to the broken boulder on which he'd left the ancient tome he needed, the spellbook that served as the key to the whole process. He'd also stashed the reagents here at the Keyblade Graveyard in advance.
And what reagents. The spell had been vague--which could be either fortuitous or disastrous, depending on the spell--but Vanitas had cross-referenced every source he could think of to verify that he had the right stuff. The book called for Hair of the Undying, Dust of the Sanctified, and Blood of the Redeemed.
Hair of the Undying...hair from a god. The god that Nomura called Godi had been the unwitting donor. That had been the last time Nomura saw him...and the first time he saw him after what he'd done to Kid...he'd never be forgiven, not by Nomura, not this century.
Dust of the Sanctified. Now this had been a hell of a task. After an exorbitant amount of research, Nomura had confirmed that "dust" referred to bone. The spell probably intended for the caster to abduct the bone-dust from some ancient saint's reliquary, but an even stranger solution had presented itself: Kingdom Hearts, personified. Godi's boss and creator. The one who'd put Godi, Kid, and his Ven through so much hell...had actually come forward, and of his own volition, donated a piece of himself for the ritual. The entity that was practically the embodiment of self-preservation had cut off his own finger to donate to Nomura's spell. To atone for the way he'd treated Kid, was the implication. Nomura had had a hard time expressing the true extent of his gratitude to the ethereal being...but there'd be time for that later. Now, he had the severed finger in a cooler, just in case. Best to keep the ingredients fresh.
And lastly, Blood of the Redeemed. Kid and Nomura had talked about this one extensively, and Nomura agreed that it had to be Kid's blood in the mix as the third reagent. He was the one getting redeemed--and he had already been redeemed, in Nomura's eyes. His old lives had been so chaotic, so horrific...now was the time to move forward. For an end. For peace. For love.
Nomura scuttled around in silence, concentrating as he scraped out the spell circle with a ceremonial dagger--a silver alloy sharp enough to cleave flesh, but only long enough for a quick shanking--cutting through the hard, crusty layer of dried dirt just below the surface of the powdery dust that covered this godsforsaken place. He sheathed the knife in his boot, set the old book down on the boulder again, and retrieved the first two reagents, placing them with utmost care in the center of the circle. Then, stepping lightly so as to not disturb the lines he'd carved, Nomura tiptoed through the circle and moved to pick up the book from the boulder again.
But he hesitated. Both he and Kid knew what was next--Kid needed to move to the center of the circle with his new body in tow, and on Nomura's cue, he'd slice open his finger and let fall a few drops of blood into the triangle where the third reagent belonged.
But something else needed to happen first. Nomura turned, lurched over to Kid, and snatched him up into a clinging hug. His dogtag-necklace clinked against Kid's matching one, but he didn't seem to notice.
"...You ready for this?"
Once the body was finished, Kid stood there staring at it, imagining himself animating it. This was so weird. He'd never made a human body before, and there was something ironic about that, wasn't there? Shivering, he allowed himself to be swooped into the hug.
"F'course I am," he muttered into Nomura's chest. "I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I wasn't ready. We'll be okay."
He hoped. Maybe this wouldn't work? Maybe they both would get hit with backfire and blow themselves up. There was always that chance. But thinking about that wouldn't get them very far, and it certainly wouldn't make him mortal. Kid smiled tightly at his brother and then dragged his new body into the circle, careful not to disturb any of the lines.
Kid held out his finger. His heart might have been pounding, but he had to appear stronger for Nomura. This was his moment. It was his magic that was going to make this work, and Kid was just the subject. The object. "See you when I'm mortal, bro."
A little smile. Genuine. Let's do this, I trust you.
He was scared. Scared enough that as he stared at Kid, as his golden eyes roved over the circle and its occupant and ingredients to double check that everything was in order, his head felt giddy. What if he'd read the text wrong? He tried to take a deep breath and that only made the light-headedness grow. What if this spell was forbidden by some higher power, and the cost was more than he could pay? His pallid face paled a shade. What if he failed? What if he hurt Kid? What if he killed him? Trying to help him, make him mortal, so he could be with the man he loved, and all of it for naught--
Something in that smile eased the tension in his Heart. Kid trusted him. Part of him hated that; what if he let him down? But part of him took comfort in that--and that part clung to that comfort, wrapped itself around it, assimilated it and spread it along the rest of his being.
Nomura managed a wan smile. He picked up the book. He took a deep breath, held it in, let it out. Still giddy, but not hysterical. Calm. Level-headed. He didn't even need to look at the text in his hand; he knew it by heart.
"Here we go."
Pale lids slid shut over amber eyes. When they opened again, they glittered with the power that the shadowy being gathered in his body. Wisps of Dark magic danced at his feet as he sucked in the mana of this Dark, desolate world, as he drew from the Nothing inside the Corridors, as he tapped into the endless night between the fabric of world, channeled it and shaped it and molded it to his will.
His voice started out low, baritone notes issuing from him in a perfunctory, measured cadence. The chant was in a language that had been dead since the Multiverse was young, a language that tumbled from his tongue with both the youthful gaiety of a wind ruffling a field of high grass, and with the sonorous gravity of an ancient angel singing alone in a hallowed hall.
His voice grew in strength as he recited the first verse of the chant, and with that change, the spell-circle began to glow.
And then his words fell through the air like a hail of flaming brimstone, fierce and commanding, calling forth a light from the etched lines of the arcane circle, a light that reminded of a stormclouds wrath and made the caster quake in his own skin, but still he chanted, eyes ablaze.
The light devoured the reagents--hair, flesh and bone, blood. It seeped into the empty body with the blue eyes, seeped into the occupied body with gold. It burrowed into the immortal's flesh and merged with the energy of his innermost being, insulating it, guiding it, and then--a snap. Like a guillotine blade falling to the condemned, something was severed.
And in the same instant, Nomura's voice grew to booming strength, echoing with the force of his magic, and the light called the flesh and spirit within the circle to become one.
Seconds. Chaotic seconds of silence and cacophony, of radiance and nothingness. Then, a snap. Stillness.
The light was gone. The circle was gone. The reagents were gone. One body stood where two had once been. One body with blue eyes.
Panting and with shaking hands, Nomura set the tome down on the boulder again, and staggered towards Kid, eyes huge, alight with hope.
It hurt.
Nomura probably had those syllables memorized, and had worked so hard to make the spell perfect, and Kid couldn't even listen because he was doubled over. He'd felt pain. They'd both felt pain, for years, and Kid had felt it for millennia. But this--holy Christ.
When it was over, he tumbled forward into Nomura's chest. The pain was real, and tangible, and mortal and he didn't know what to think. It felt like he could actually die for the first time in his life. The breaths he heaved were important, his heart was pounding for a reason, and it felt...odd. Really odd.
"It worked," he breathed out, pulling away to steady himself using Nomura's shoulders and blinking rapidly. Cerulean eyes sparkled, and he looked up to his brother with a grin. "You did it--I fuckin' told you--"
They did it. And they could go home to Ven and open the door and run at him, Kid scooping him up into a kiss--oh, god. His brother.
"You're the best brother I could ever fuckin' ask for," Kid choked out. He was already crying, fuck. "Thank you--"
He'd never attempted spellcasting of this magnitude before, and even if this endeavor hadn't been something he was thoroughly emotionally invested in, it would have been taxing for him. He was frazzled, but so high on adrenaline that he didn't give two shits.
It had worked.
And there was Kid with his sparking blue eyes, smiling like an innocent child and laughing, laughing...
His Heart soared.
He let out a laugh of his own, young and unburdened. "You're welcome. S'cause I'm your brother, lil' bro, and don't you ever forget it--"
He wasn't sure what it is, but he felt it, and instinctively, he knew something was wrong. So he turned on his heel, and stepped.
He wasn't expecting to show up in the graveyard, of all places. Nor did he expect what he saw--Kitten. Mortal. Mortal. The rage was instant, sweeping through him, and another step brought him right up behind Nommy--he'd done this.
Vanitas had planned to do this himself, give Kitten one last gift, and Nommy had taken it--
It wasn't a conscious decision, but only seconds after the realization, his hand slammed forward, aimed straight for the heart.
Something stopped.
What, though? His laughter, his thoughts. They'd ground to a halt. Something else. His breath. But something else.
He looked down.
Oh. Must've been his heart, too.
Being that it was currently outside of his chest, in Godi's hand.
His brain stayed turned on for a few more seconds. Long enough to direct his eyes back up--laboriously, dragging for a lifetime--into the face of the one who'd killed him.
Nomura had every reason to be livid. But he wasn't--or at least, it didn't show on his face. There was shock of course, but something else. Something soft, young.
The confused betrayal of a child. A being with the body, mind and Heart of a 21-year-old, who had only been alive and awake for 9 years. Staring into the face of his killer and asking, why.
An instant later, his body collapsed into the dust.
No.
Nonononono. No, not--no. There was confusion for a few moments, and then--oh god. Nomura. Nom. Nommy--
Van was there. He didn't even have time to be afraid. Didn't have time to yell or run or cower in fear because he was too busy falling to his knees next to the broken form of his brother. The necklace they shared was destroyed, the chain ripped apart and settled next to the bloody cavity in his chest.
"Nommy," Kid sobbed, tears falling without him realizing. Van wasn't even there. This--no, this wasn't--how? "Nommy, no...Nommy please wake up, no--you can't--"
And then anger. Van did this to him. Van...Van destroyed him, and threw his body away in the dust like it was nothing. Kid didn't even look up as he hissed, "I'm going to kill you."
Bright blue irises glanced up, teary and furious, staring at the god. "I'll fucking kill you."
He stares back at him for a moment, silent before he slams his hand through his chest too.
"I'd like to see you try."
Kid didn't feel anything for a moment. And then sharp pain, although much duller than what he had experienced earlier. The fury didn't fade from his eyes as he faded and the darkness crept around his vision.
He wanted to whisper out something threatening. Something about how he'd never be forgiven. About how Van had destroyed him, emotionally and physically, for the rest of eternity. But he couldn't speak, because he fell to the ground next to his brother, their cold fingers brushing against each other as the wind of the Graveyard swept across their faces.
