I've had the idea to this fanfic for years, but never actually got around to writing it until now.

(To all my usual readers, don't worry; A new chapter of Complete Turnabout is already finished and pending grammar/spelling correction.)

The first chapters are heavily based on the two backstory chapters describing Vanitas' creation and Ventus' recovery in the official Kingdom Hearts novel. Especially my portrayal of Vanitas and his mindset in this fic is heavily reliant on the assumption that these two chapters can be regarded canon.

In any case, I dedicate this story to everyone who's ever wondered if there's a point to their existence.

Something had been born here, just now, moments ago.

Anyone told this would probably only have laughed at these words. After all, what could possibly born of a place like this? An empty, dead wasteland, where the tears and blood spilled so many years ago have long dried up and become naught but specks of salt blown across the desert with the sand? There was nothing here that could have brought forth life. Nothing that could have given birth. And yet, here he was. He existed. Just as empty and desolate as the desert ground he was standing on, he was alive in the loosest sense of the word.

That man had called him "Vanitas". The man's own name was Xehanort and he was his Master. But Vanitas did not feel respect, nor admiration for him. In fact, he did not feel anything positive at all, nothing uplifting, no joy, or pleasure, or anticipation or even just calmness. He had none of these emotions. That was because all that was 'light' to Vanitas belonged to another. Something he used to be part of. A heart. A person.

Vanitas was still dazed when he watched Xehanort, his Master, his creator, walk away, carrying the thing that had been lying on the ground with its four limbs stretched out just moments ago over his shoulder. No, not a thing. A person. 'Himself', or rather, who he used to be. The one he was born off. Vanitas felt sad to see Ventus carried away. Vanitas felt spiteful towards Ventus, who was being carried away. It was strange and confusing. And Vanitas knew right away that this 'confusion', too, was a feeling he found unpleasant. He hated it. And he was afraid of how easy it was to hate it. And he hated that fear. And he feared the fact that there was nothing to quell it. And he hated Ventus, because he was born from him. After all, he hated the fact that he had been born in itself.

Slowly, Vanitas was beginning to make sense of his surroundings. Of the things he saw, of the things that had happened to him and of himself. He was Darkness. The dark part of Ventus' heart, that had been taken from him, because he had been too weak to fight when the Master had demanded it of him. Yes, too weak. Ventus was weak. And Vanitas was born of Ventus. Oh, how he hated Ventus. Had Ventus not been weak, they would not have been parted. Now Vanitas was alone, with nothing to quell his fears and his sadness and his hate. He hated this loneliness, split apart from himself, that other half, that had always been there to make him whole until now. But now he was incomplete. Empty.

In Vanitas' hands, there was a key. He recognized it. His Keyblade. It came natural to him, to understand what it was and what it was good for. He remembered fighting, as Ventus, as part of him. But that was over now. Even though his Keyblade made him feel powerful and for a moment, a feeling which allowed Vanitas to laugh briefly under the mask that hid away his empty face, eventually fear overcame him again. Ventus' fear. Of course. After all, that was all he was. Ventus' dark emotions. And as Vanitas was still realizing this, the first creatures were born from him. Unversed, barely even living beings. Emotions, parts of him that had escaped him, created from his feelings at the moment. These pathetic, useless, horrible feelings, that he had to endure without anything to ease them with. What else could he do, but hate them? After all, they were proof of his hateful existence. They deserved to be eliminated. And so, Vanitas brought his Keyblade down upon them and destroyed the Unversed. Immediately, the Darkness released flowed back into him. He felt pain. The pain of the Unversed, their emotion, their sadness, despair, hatred and anger, it all returned to him. He almost regretted destroying it. And yet, as soon as the next of these creatures showed its ugly face behind him, his Keyblade was swung again. Once more, he destroyed the loathsome being, and once more it returned to him, with all its pain and negativity. The hurt and spite Vanitas felt gave birth to yet more on Unversed.

It repeated, over and over, the Unversed's birth from Vanitas' feelings and their demise by his hands. With every Unversed he killed, his pain only grew. The cycle continued until, finally, Vanitas broke down, collapsing into the dust under his feet. With a scream, he finally ripped the mask off his head and grasped onto his featureless, blank face. He could feel its even, almost alien surface under his fingers. It was nothing like Ventus'. In fact, he wasn't even sure if this appearance could even be called 'a face'. A doll could have passed for human more easily than he could have with this face. Vanitas knew this. Again, he screamed in his agony. And then, the questions began to shoot into his mind.

What kind of being was he even supposed to be? Who was he? Ventus, another Ventus, someone else entirely? Why was it that he had to be born? What for? What worth was a life born of another's pathetic failure?

He hated this. He hated existing this way. He hated Ventus, who he had been born from, and he hated Xehanort, who had ripped him away from Ventus. He loathed them so deeply, it was painful to him. And now he envied Ventus, who's heart was probably broken into a million pieces by now. That boy would never be able to feel anything as painful as this again. And Vanitas would never see Ventus again. He wouldn't even be able to hurt him, cause him pain, for leaving him behind like a piece of shed skin. Ventus was out of his reach. Xehanort was far too powerful take on. Vanitas realized that he didn't even have anybody to exalt revenge for his existence on. All he could do was continue to hurt himself. For now, however, the pain and exhaustion had finally gotten to him. He was just lying in the dust, motionless.

It was when the twilight changed into night that Vanitas heard a voice in his mind from somewhere, far away.

Hey, where am I? It asked, and all of a sudden, Vanitas found himself in utter Darkness.

There was a small streak of light, somewhere in the distance. Vanitas did not understand what was going on. It frightened him, but even if he had wanted to fight or flee, he wouldn't have been able. His limbs would not obey him. Almost as if his body was not his own and he were only a silent observer to what was unfolding before him. There was a feeling as if he were somewhere far away, in a place he had never seen before. He felt as if he could hear waves hit the shore. And as the light's radiance grew closer, Vanitas heard the voice speak:

It's time to wake up now. All we have to do is open the door.

The light engulfed him and at once he woke up, with a jolt like awaking from a nightmare. Vanitas took deep breaths. What in the world had happened just now? He didn't understand, but he felt as if Ventus' heart had been saved. Was that what that voice had been? Had another heart saved Ventus? A new heart, that had replaced him as Ventus' other half, maybe..?

Vanitas didn't have the chance to contemplate what this meant, because now he was beginning to realize the changes that had happened to him too. When he led his fingers to his face, he could touch his lips. He had lips. And cheeks, and a nose, and eyelids and hair... A normal, human face. One just like Ventus'. What was the meaning of this? There was so much he didn't understand. It only kept frustrating him. And already, the brief relief that the light that had engulfed him had given him was gone again. Again, he felt restless and irritated and sad and lonely... Again, he thought of how much he loathed this life, having been born, having been created- Vanitas stopped here.

Of course. Xehanort created him. Xehanort, his loathsome, cruel Master. It was Xehanort who had brought him into this world. If only, he could rid himself of Xehanort, could repay to him all this agony he was feeling, somehow, if he could see him suffer, just a little bit... Would that give him a hint of relief, perhaps? To see Xehanort in pain?

Ventus' memories stirring inside him, an idea struck Vanitas' mind and he smirked to himself. Yes, this was what he was going to do.

Master Xehanort returned to the Keyblade Graveyard in the break of dawn, Ventus walking along besides him. The light of the rising sun played with their silhouettes as they returned to the place where Ventus' heart had been split the evening before. But when they arrived, Xehanort found nothing there. Vanitas, who was supposed to have stayed behind was nowhere to be seen.

"Hm...?"

The circumstances raised Xehanort's suspicions right away and with heightened senses he looked around himself, trying to see if he couldn't spy someone close by. It didn't have to be Vanitas, but somebody was definitely here. He knew that.

"Are you looking for anyone... Old friend?"

Xehanort heard the voice from behind his back and turned. He found the tip of a key pointed into his face, so close that it almost touched his nose. Fierce, dark blue eyes glared at him from behind a single strand of black hair. The sight of this familiar face caused Xehanort to chuckle.

"Eraqus, my friend. Just what brings you out here, I wonder?"

But of course, Xehanort already knew the answer. A glance to the side had revealed to him that his fellow Master had companionship. A boy with pitch black hair was standing right by Eraqus' side, silently starring at the joyless reunion between the two Masters. Even though Xehanort had never seen his face before, he knew immediately that this boy must be Vanitas. So, he had betrayed him. How fitting for a creature of Darkness, to betray and back-stab its own Master...

"Xehanort," Eraqus began to speak in a deep, almost commanding voice. "I had hoped the years would have taught you to rethink your ventures into the Darkness, but regrettably... That does not seem to be the case."

Eraqus' eyes had trailed off slightly, to a place besides Xehanort. He looked at the boy standing next to the man. Ventus' eyes were empty and starring into the distance as if he didn't even register the presence of human beings around him.

And Vanitas was starring as well. At Ventus.

"Just what did you do to this boy?" Eraqus asked Xehanort, his Keyblade still aimed directly between his former friend's eyes.

"I believe you have already seen the answer for yourself." Xehanort laughed out, as if he was just making a lighthearted jest. "I have to say, I wouldn't have thought that you would be this frazzled by what has become of Ventus. After all, were you not always the one who kept telling me of the miraculous power of light in its purest form?"

In response to this statement, Eraqus ground his teeth, thrusting his Keyblade forward. Xehanort, dodged out of the way with ease. Of course, had Eraqus really meant to wound him, it would not have been as easy to evade his attack. But Xehanort knew his old friend just too well. He he had nothing to fear of him.

"Xehanort, can you still not see, that you have strayed off the right path?" Eraqus asked, while taking a stance anew, showing that he was willing to fight if he so must. "I am giving you one last chance. Please. I promise, we will find a way to set all of the wrongs you have already committed right. Together. Repent now, you'll be welcome back, as a fellow Master of the Keyblade."

There was a deep sincerity in Eraqus' voice, one that was very familiar to Xehanort. It was the tone of that same boy he used to spar and play chess against, back when he was still a young man himself. But the face he saw was nothing like that boy's, tarnished by both age, and a large scar across the cheek. Xehanort recognized the spot. This was the wound he himself had inflicted on his friend, long ago.

Xehanort understood one thing well. He would not be able to dispose of or drive away Eraqus as it were now, and even if it were possible, it may not be of advantage to his plan. Vanitas had probably already told Eraqus of everything. If Xehanort tried to take Ventus and Vanitas with him and proceed as intended now, he would only be faced with needless obstacles... It seemed like yet another change of plans was in order.

With a slight smile on his face and a hand behind his back, Xehanort conjured up a rift in the world itself, a portal into the deepest Darkness. At the sight of this, Eraqus, who had hoped that Xehanort's smile was a sign of compliance if some sort, was struck with fright. It was that one moment that Eraqus was frozen in place that gave Xehanort all the time he needed to step backwards, into the embrace of the shadows in the realm behind him.

"Xehanort!" Eraqus screamed and dashed forward, but it was far too late to still reach him. The portal closed and disappeared, the residual Darkness dispersing between Eraqus' fingers like smoke. Silently, he starred at his hand in the spot where the person he used to call his best friend had been standing.

It were the dull sound of something hitting the ground and a grunt, almost like a cut-off whimper, that called Eraqus' attention to elsewhere. He turned and saw Vanitas, standing with one foot on the chest of Ventus, who had tumbled to the dirty ground like ragdoll. Vanitas must have kicked him down.

Vanitas' eyes were fixed on the expressionless face of the boy beneath him. One would have had to be blind to not see the deep, powerful hatred in his stare. The mere sight of Ventus seemed to make Vanitas feel sick, repulsed by all it made him feel and all it reminded him off. In the position he was, he could have crushed Ventus' rib-cage at any time with ease, but instead, he just increased the weight of his leg on the boy's chest. Though Ventus' face did not change, this gesture did not remain without consequences and Ventus' limbs, fingers and even his lips began to tremble, as if to express a fear that he could not feel. He made some slight motions, as if trying to shake Vanitas off and roll up in a ball to protect himself from the other's rage, but they were much too weak and uncoordinated to pose much more than a minor annoyance to his attacker. A bug that had been turned on its back. That was what he reminded Vanitas of. Pathetic and disgusting.

"You're an eyesore..." Vanitas muttered, as he raised his hand above his head and summoned his Keyblade, ready to put an end to what had remained of the person he used to be...

A swift strike knocked Vanitas off-balance before he could do anything else. From one second to the other, he found himself thrust into the dirt, coughing up sand, Ventus still as relatively unharmed as a few moments ago. Vanitas raised his head. Eraqus was glaring down onto him, the Master's Keyblade pointed straight at Vanitas' chest.

Throat tightened. Body stiff as a log. A keyblade. Pointed at his chest. At his heart.

Again...

Unversed of fear and mortification spawned from Vanitas as he clenched his teeth, trying to return Eraqus' glare two-fold.

"Creature of Darkness," Eraqus said with deep contempt in his voice. "You will not do any harm to this boy, lest what you wish for is to be purged from the face of this world."

Hearing this, Vanitas could only scoff and chuckle.

"You want to erase me, huh? Well, go ahead. Do it." His eyes slanted. "See if I care."

"So you wouldn't mind if your existence were erased?" Eraqus asked.

"If this is what you'd call an 'existence', then sure. Let's go with that," Vanitas spat out. "This wasn't my choice. But it is my choice to end it. In fact, I feel like doing it, right here... and..."

Vanitas stopped. He had summoned his Keyblade. But now that he was trying to raise it and lead it to his neck, he found that moving his arm was unexpectedly difficult. What was this feeling? His hand was shaking. The thought of what he was trying to do made his chest clam up. The sight of Eraqus' own keyblade, still firmly pointing at his chest didn't make it any better. He could feel his stomach cramping and yet more Unversed of terror emerging from his body.

Vanitas' keyblade finally fell to the ground and disappeared from sight. Disarmed this was, Vanitas glanced over at Ventus. This was all his fault. Ventus' weakness was to blame for this all...

The sight of Vanitas hesitating this way made Eraqus' expression soften. As repulsive as a creation of pure Darkness such as this one was to him, he also knew that Ventus had not chosen to be ripped apart in the way he had been. Perhaps there was still a way to help Ventus's heart mend...

"You and Ventus are two parts of one and the same. There's no telling what the demise of one of you would mean for the other."

Vanitas turned his head, "I don't care about what happens to that little loser."

"I can't even guarantee that a shattered heart such as yours would be able to pass on into Kingdom Hearts."

Those words actually managed to startle Vanitas. For a few moments, his eyes were fixed on the floor. If this was true, and his heart wouldn't be able to pass on were he and Ventus to die, then what would happen to him? Would he just linger? Forever trapped the way he was now...?

Eraqus continued to speak.

"You are the embodiment of the Darkness in Ventus' heart. It is unnatural for you to exist this way. A being like you shouldn't walk in the Realm of Light. But there is no need to destroy Ventus' heart entirely just to put an end to you. As long as both, Ventus and you, are within my grasp there may still be a chance to return you to your rightful place within Ventus' heart without harming the child. From then on out, I will be able to train him to contain his heart's Darkness in a proper way."

Returning to being a part of Ventus' heart... That sounded strangely nice to Vanitas. As if it was right, like it was what should happen, the way it should be. Even though he knew that Eraqus, that arrogant, old idiot, was clearly just meaning to find a way of getting rid of Vanitas in a way that wouldn't hurt Ventus, Vanitas couldn't find it in him to object to what he was saying. He was too... okay with the idea.

Returning to Ventus, being just a part of him again, without any sense of self, any sensations whatsoever... And just leaving all the feeling, all the suffering, all the loathing to that miserable boy.

"Now, you and Ventus will come with me."

Vanitas didn't argue. He saw no reason to. As long as it meant leaving the badlands behind forever, he didn't care where he would be brought.