Birth By Sleep really made me wonder about the first Ventus, pre-split. I mean, when you think about it, he probably got one of the worst deals in the game: Ven and Vanitas can't rejoin, meaning original!Ven can't come back. And as adorable as completely light!Ven is, that made me feel kind of awful for the probably very ordinary kid he once was, you know? So when the prompt 'the past' came up on kh_drabble, this was born. Comments and concrit greatly appreciated, as always. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and all related characters are property of Square Enix and Disney.

A Cautionary Tale

Once upon a time there was a little boy called Ventus. Sometimes he was a good boy and sometimes he was bad. Sometimes he would share his toys and play nicely, and sometimes he wouldn't. Sometimes he would remember to say please and thank you and not to snatch or pull faces, and sometimes he wouldn't. Sometimes he would wash his hands and brush his teeth, and look both ways before crossing the road, and, and, and...and sometimes, he wouldn't.

He was a normal, ordinary little boy, just like a hundred thousand others, and he died just like a hundred thousand others too, when the wheel of Fate started turning too soon for them to escape.

The only difference was this: when Ventus died, another Ventus lived.

He didn't push, or tease, or hurt people. He was good.

And Vanitas? He did all of those things and more. He was bad.

One morning a man had passed by the orphanage and had stopped to talk with Ventus. He'd told him all kinds of stories: epic adventures, daring battles, distant worlds. He'd told him that he'd taken a liking to him, and would Ventus like to come with him, to learn from him, become a hero like him?

And Ventus, with all the logic of a child who'd been told off just that morning and had already wandered further from the gardens than he was meant to and was probably facing trouble when he did get back, had figured well, no one would miss me and happily followed the stranger far away.

Ventus lived. Ventus lived in two bodies: one light, one dark, two separate existences.

If one wanted to be optimistic, maybe they would even call it twice the life he'd had before.

It was no life. It wasn't even death.

He hadn't looked back as he'd followed his new Master away. He never even spared his homeworld, or the orphanage, or anyone there another thought throughout all the training and learning.

It was only when the darkness was closing in, parched wasteland beneath his hands and his chest and his face, choking on the dust in his mouth, that he wished he'd never left home in the first place.

When Ventus died, another Ventus lived: a good, pure Ventus.

He wasn't him.

When Ventus died, Vanitas was born: an evil, wicked Ventus.

He wasn't him either.

Ventus, the real Ventus, was gone forever: alone, forgotten, un-mourned.

This was reality, and nothing waited for those who slipped into the wrong choice but nothingness itself.