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No, Riku thinks, this can’t be happening.
It was about three weeks ago when he’d found a cat in an alleyway on his way home from work—not because of any pathetic mews for food but because of its frustrated howling and hissing as it fought against a barbed snag in a chain-link fence. The poor thing was nothing but a thin creature of matted black fur, soaked to his ribs in rain, and bloodied paw caught in unyielding metal teeth. He’d swiped his claws at Riku as he tried to get close. Hissed and spat and snarled at him as if daring him to help. But Riku helped the cat free anyway. It only cost him nine bandages and some minor blood loss.
He’d wrapped the feral thing in his jacket and brought it home. Cleaned and patched him up. Strangely, the cat stopped fighting once Riku brought him inside, like he knew Riku wasn’t going to hurt him. Like he knew there was no way out. He didn’t complain as Riku washed away the blood and dirt with warm water, or wrapped his paw in gauze, or laid out a few slices of sandwich meat for him. He only turned up his nose once Riku returned from work the next day, after buying some proper cat food. He wouldn’t eat it. Refused to touch it. Something about those sharp golden eyes and knowing meow made Riku sigh and reach back into the fridge for some more slices of lunch meat.
It took days for him to let Riku touch or pet him, even longer for him brush against Riku’s ankles whenever he wanted food, or curl up next to him on the couch. Just today, he’d jumped up onto the couch as Riku was sprawled across it, watching an old sitcom he’d seen a thousand times already, and made a bed of his chest. It was so cute, Riku couldn’t bear to touch him, fearing he’d run off if disturbed. So he let sleeping cats lie, and eventually drifted off himself.
But this… This can’t be happening.
Riku blinks sleepily at the ceiling. The pressure on his chest is too heavy for a cat. It trails down his body, intertwining with his legs. Black fur has turned to locks of hair, soft through his fingers, and sticking in every direction. The pointed nose of a face he can’t see from this angle. A boy. A human boy with strong arms and a solid torso is draped across Riku like a blanket and this can’t be happening.
Riku can’t move, but is it from shock or sleep? He must be dreaming. Has to be. The ceiling grows dark as sleep pulls him back down.
A few hours later, Riku’s alarm sounds, and a black cat hops indignantly to the floor.
Sleep paralysis is a bitch. Riku tries to forget about it.
But it’s hard to when the cat seems to understand what Riku is saying most of the time. How he’ll meow back at Riku’s words as if to argue. How he’ll watch Riku with clear thought behind his eyes. How Riku still hasn’t thought of a name for the cat he’d inadvertently decided to keep because he’s afraid he’ll pick the wrong one. He can’t help but think what if. What if it’s actually true?
The next time the cat decides to take a nap on his chest, Riku has his phone at the ready. He’s watching the same old sitcom, sprawled out on the couch, phone in-hand and half asleep already, when he feels the pressure shift. The weight grows heavier until it’s as it was before, all over him like a heavy blanket. It’s the slight touch against his leg that fully jolts Riku out of his half-sleep haze. A boy with soft, unruly black hair lays quietly against his chest, voice rumbling low in a dream, almost like a soft purring.
Riku tries to make his heart sit still. If it beats any louder he’s sure the boy will wake up and the spell will be broken.
His fumbling fingers lift the phone into the air and switch to the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of the boy’s face—round, porcelain cheeks, long lashes and soft lips. His expression is serene; breath deep, slow, and even. He must be on the deepest level of sleep. Could that be the trigger? After all, Riku never noticed this until he was comfortable enough to sleep by Riku’s side. And if it is true, with the way he behaves, Riku can only assume he’s a boy-turned-cat. Not the other way around.
That leaves the questions of why and how and, honestly, a million others that Riku can’t bring himself to shuffle through right now. He’s probably still dreaming all of this, so he snaps a picture with his cellphone camera. He bites down onto his lip as the shutter sound blares from the speaker.
He’s an idiot! Why didn’t he put the phone on silent!?
The boy twitches. His face scrunches up, and then his body turns to hazy glass. It falls over him like a shroud, a veil of an illusion that sweeps up his image and weight and deposits it all back into the shape of cat. He pops awake, leaps to the floor, and stretches as if nothing is wrong. He has no idea.
Riku sits up and stares into his phone screen. The photo of the boy is still there. The cat trots into the kitchen. Riku doesn’t know what to do.
Maybe he should ask Sora.
–
After spending a good two hours staring at his phone and trying to come up with a sane way of saying ‘Hey, I think my cat might actually be some guy under a magic spell,’ and finding absolutely nothing, Riku decides to not tell Sora about it. What is he thinking, anyway? He can’t tell Sora about this! He’d laugh it off and then probably have Riku committed to a hospital within the week.
Besides, Riku is still a little unsure about the reality of all this. Despite the picture on his camera roll that he can’t stop looking at. He wonders if the Boy’s eyes are the same striking shade of gold as the cat’s.
He also wonders if the Boy has given up on breaking this… spell, or curse, or whatever silly fairy tale jargon he’d like to call it. He seems to have grown comfortable staying here; but surely there’s a way to return him to normal. If Riku had to guess, fairy tale problems require fairy tale solutions.
The insinuations of such a thought are embarrassing at best. He really doesn’t know what to do.
The cat hops onto the couch next to him, and Riku’s hand instinctively strokes his back. “Hey, buddy.” Then he laughs a bit. “I can’t keep calling you buddy, you know. You need a name.” And before he can think twice about it, he says: “What is your name?”
The cat meows low in response.
Riku chuckles to himself. “I don’t know what else I expected.”
Another meow.
“I don’t want to call you the wrong name. You do have one, don’t you?”
He tilts his head, and it’s so human that for a moment, Riku forgets about the absurdity of all this.
“You’re not a normal cat,” he mumbles, and the cat freezes in place. “What happened to you?”
Instantly, he crawls into Riku’s lap with a loud mew and wide, gold eyes.
How could he ever deny it now? It must be true. The boy in the picture has to be real. “How can I help?” Paws press against his chest, small and desperate. Another meow directly into his face. It sounds so sad. Riku doesn’t understand, and gently strokes the cat’s head. “We’ll figure it out somehow. I promise.”
He keeps meowing, pressing his face against Riku’s clavicle.
“I can’t even ask your name...” he sighs. If only there was some way for him to— “Wait. I’ve got it. Hold on.” He deposits the cat onto the floor and goes to the hall closet. He rummages until he finds an old Scrabble box at the bottom of a stack of board games.
The cat brushes against his ankles. What an impatient guy.
Riku sits and dumps the bag of Scrabble tiles onto the floor. “There’s a few missing, but this should be enough.”
The cat mews curiously.
“Here,” he instructs as he turns the tiles face-up. “What’s your name?”
He’s pretty quick on the uptake, sitting like a statue as he studies the letters. Searching for the right one. After a moment, he carefully trots through the maze of tiles, towards the center, and bats at the letter V with a deliberate paw.
“V?” Riku picks up the tile. “Okay. What next?”
Another quick search. Another letter. A, then N, then I, T, A, and S.
He spreads the selected tiles in front of him. “Vanitas?”
The cat twirls around excitedly. It’s… really cute.
Finally. A name to put to the face. The mysterious boy in the photo, the boy cursed with the form of a cat. “Vanitas.”
He climbs back into Riku’s lap and onto his shoulders, nuzzling his cheek. A thank you without words.
“Do you know how this happened to you?” Riku chances. “Once for yes and twice for no.”
Vanitas meows once.
He honestly didn’t expect that. “Really?”
Another meow.
“Sorry, that one was rhetorical.”
He practically growls at that.
“What should I do to help?”
Vanitas leaps back to the floor and swipes at more Scrabble tiles. He spells out ‘VENTUS.’
Riku narrows his eyes. “Ventus?”
Vanitas gives him one more word: ‘BROTHER.’
That seems straightforward enough. Riku doesn’t really know where to begin with such a request, but at least it’s something.
–
“Hey, Sora, do you know anyone named Ventus?”
On the other end of the video call, tiny on Riku’s phone screen and wrapped like a mummy in a fluffy duvet, Sora hums. “Don’t think so.”
“Oh…” Right. Of course not. Riku looks to the cat seated next to him on the couch. Vanitas’s head drops just a bit lower. “Never mind, then.”
Sora brings a steamy mug to his lips. Hot chocolate, probably. “Why do you ask?” He takes a sip and ends up with whipped cream on his nose.
Riku can’t help but smile. Sora’s such a goofball. “He’s… a friend of a friend.” Not exactly a lie, he reasons.
“I see.” He tries to get to the whipped cream with his tongue, but he can’t quite reach.
“You know a lot of people, so I figured you’d know him too.”
“Nope!” he grins, finally cleaning his face with the back of his hand. “I’ll keep an eye out, though.”
“Thanks.”
Vanitas hops onto the back of the couch, slipping behind Riku’s head to peek over his shoulder. Riku watches his eyes glint through the front-facing camera.
On the main screen, Sora lurches forward: “You got a cat!?”
Riku chuckles. “Sort of.” He reaches up to scratch Vanitas’s head. Vanitas lets him. “It was kind of an accident.”
Sora gives a sagely nod. “Right. You don’t just go get a cat. You acquire a cat. It’s not a choice.”
“That sounds right.”
He pulls the phone so close to his face, hoping to get a better look somehow. Riku can clearly see a spot of whipped cream that he missed. “What’s their name?”
“His name is Vanitas.”
“That’s… unique.”
“It’s his name,” he shrugs.
“He’s cute,” Sora blurts, and Vanitas blinks like he’s startled. “I wanna meet him.”
Riku just laughs. Sora’s expression is so intense. “Okay. But I have to warn you, he’s not an ordinary cat.”
“So he’s a quirky stray?”
“It’s not easy to explain, but something like that.”
Sora hums again with another long pull of hot chocolate. The whipped cream nose is back again, too. Riku wants to just reach through the phone and rub it off, but he’s too busy trying not to burst out laughing. “If you say so,” Sora shrugs. He’s clearly missing the weight of what Riku is saying. But of course he is. What Riku really wants to say will get him institutionalized.
“That reminds me: Sora, can you do me a favor?”
He perks up, all sunshine smile and crinkled eyes. “Anytime. What’s up?”
–
Sora places a bowl of cat food on the floor. The cat—Riku said his name was Vanitas?—just stands there and looks at him.
Vanitas… what a weird name for a cat. But Sora guesses it suits him. He’s a weird cat. Cute, but weird.
Riku said he wasn’t “ordinary.” Whatever that means. He’d asked if Sora would cat-sit while he was out of town for the weekend, but he’d said it like it was some grand quest or difficult task. It’s just a cat. Sora’s not that unreliable… is he?
He stays kneeling on the floor, watching as the cat brushes his face with his paw. Vanitas looks down at the bowl of food, back up at Sora, and purposefully sits. His tail wraps tight around small paws, like twine or crossed arms. He’s not disinterested in the food; it’s like he’s deliberately refusing it.
“Not an ordinary cat, he says,” Sora grumbles as Vanitas continues to ignore the food in favor of staring him down with cold, golden eyes. “More like spoiled, if you ask me.”
Vanitas does nothing but tilt his head and narrow his eyes. A glare, if Sora had to guess.
He laughs at himself. “Yeah, right. Like you can actually understand me. Riku has me paranoid.” The cat says nothing, because of course he doesn’t. Sure, he’s a little strange, but he’s still just a cat. Sora hasn’t seen anything to make him think otherwise. He wonders what could’ve happened to make Riku think so. “It’s weird for him to be so worked up, though… I wonder if he’s just stressed out.”
Vanitas silently readjusts himself, tail unwinding and coiling in the other direction. Poised and perfect like a statue.
“Or maybe there’s something to it. I don’t know… I don’t want to say I don’t believe him, ya know? He’s my best friend. I love him more than anyone else.”
Vanitas tilts his head again, as if chewing on the words Sora just said.
And Sora suddenly takes note of the words he’d just said. “W-wait! Hold on!” His face is burning hot now. “I didn’t mean—well… I don’t know.” He brings his hand over his mouth. He’s got to stop. He can’t just… talk like this. Especially not to Riku’s weird cat! “It’s not like I haven’t thought of it. Maybe a lot. But that’s not weird, right? I mean—we’ve been though everything together. It’s always been the two of us. It’s always been Riku…” Sora rubs his face with his hands. “Ugh. I don’t know. Riku won’t even tell me what’s really bothering him. There’s no way he’d ever…” He tells himself again to stop. Just stop talking.
The cat meows loudly at him.
Sora pouts. “Somehow, I get the feeling you’re laughing at me.”
Another meow, and he hops onto the counter next to the refrigerator. The cat food just won’t do.
“Yeah… definitely laughing at me.”
–
The next day doesn’t go much better. Vanitas does little more than stare at Sora from his perch on the back of the couch. Small paws stay tucked beneath him, tail swishing silently for balance, and soft, pointed ears at attention at all times. Sora clenches his fists. He just wants to pet the damn cat. Is that so much to ask?
Sora gets close and lifts his hand, and then pouts as Vanitas curls away from him. “Oh, c’mon! You’re so cute! Let me touch you!”
Gold eyes blink as if appalled. He stops struggling for a confused moment.
Sora uses that pause to scoop him up and bury his face in soft black fur. “I’ve got you now!” he laughs. Vanitas lazily struggles to break free, he doesn’t even unsheathe his claws, but he melts once Sora scratches beneath his chin. Victory. “Aha! See? I’m not so bad. There are more good people in the world than just Riku, ya know.”
He meows as if to answer.
“He is a really good guy, though. You’ve got good taste.”
Another meow. Sora would like to think he’s saying ‘you too.’
He gently strokes the cat’s head. “Don’t tell him what I said yesterday, okay?” Then he chuckles. “Like you could. Right, Vani?”
The responding meow is considerably more annoyed.
“I’m fine if he’s my best friend. He doesn’t need to know… I don’t even know…” Vanitas stares at him. “There you go judging me again,” Sora sighs. “But… emotions are hard. And complicated. I feel like I’ve got a lot to learn before I can say I’m in love, you know?”
He keeps silent this time. There’s a clear something in his eyes that Sora can’t read.
“Who am I kidding? Of course you don’t… You don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. You can’t even understand me.” Claws suddenly dig into his flesh, and Sora yelps. He drops Vanitas to the ground. The cat lands on his feet. “What the—?”
Vanitas stares him down again. His eyes are sharp like a seething glare. He turns and disappears into the shadows of the bedroom.
Sora rubs the indentations along his arms. At least he didn’t break the skin. Damn cat. He’s lucky he’s cute, because he’s really weird.
–
Riku comes home from several days of work and research to find Sora pouting on the sofa with a square of gauze taped to his arm. He’s watching some action anime with the volume turned up just a bit too high.
“Vanitas scratched me!” he whines before even saying hello.
The cat in question is perched on an end table. His gaze floats up to the ceiling. Rolling his eyes, Riku imagines.
He sets his things down in the first place he can find. Sora doesn’t look pleased, but it’s clear he’s putting on a bit of a show. “Well, what did you do to him?”
Sora’s mouth drops open. “I didn’t do anything! He’s been trying to claw me all weekend!” He pops up and presents his bandaged arm to Riku. “Look! He actually drew blood!”
Riku chuckles. “Sorry.” He carefully grasps Sora’s arm and grazes the patch of gauze with his thumb. The fabric isn’t loaded up with antiseptics, so it must not be too deep of a gash. “Are you okay?”
He twitches a bit. “Mhm! Y-yeah.”
“Thanks for watching him for me.”
“Anytime,” Sora smiles. “Welcome back.”
“What do I owe you?”
He tilts his head and hums like he’s thinking so hard about it, but Riku knows his mind was made up days ago. “Pad Thai. Extra spicy. And movie night.”
Typical. Sora accepts payment in the form of food and fun. “Dinner and a movie, huh?”
“You know it.”
“It’s a date, then,” he says, and Sora’s laughter bursts out of him like frantic bubbles. Riku strolls over to where Vanitas is still sitting on the end table, enraptured by whatever show Sora is watching, and strokes his head. “What about you? Do you like Pad Thai?”
Vanitas meows. It sounds affirmative.
Sora climbs over the back of the couch and falls into the cushions. “Cats can’t eat Pad Thai.”
Another meow.
“You really like to argue with me, huh?” Sora glares over the armrest. Riku rolls his eyes, and Sora bursts out laughing. “I’ve never seen a cat roll its eyes before!”
His hand thoughtlessly pets Vanitas’s head again. “He’s not an ordinary cat. I told you.”
“Yeah, he’s just weird,” he counters.
Vanitas doesn’t even dignify that with a response.
Riku laughs and takes the spot on the couch next to Sora. He’s kind of tired. The television speakers burst with the sound of an explosion. “What are you watching?”
Sora shrugs. “I dunno. Something Roxas told me to check out. It’s about a bunch of kids with superpowers.”
He nods in silence. Sounds like standard fare. It’s the middle of a fight sequence now, and Riku finds himself watching for the spectacle and animation alone.
Sora leans against Riku’s arm in the quiet, comfortable and warm. He must be tired too. Vanitas meows loudly at him before climbing over and settling between them like a buffer. Sora huffs the slightest bit. “He’s a little possessive, huh?”
Riku can only laugh. “I guess so.” He scratches behind Vanitas’s ears without thinking.
“Don’t encourage it,” Sora grumbles.
“Are you seriously jealous over a cat?”
“He’s no ordinary cat!”
“So you finally believe me!” Riku exclaims, and Sora groans to the ceiling.
“Look, Riku, I know Vanitas is kinda weird, but I wouldn’t call him extraordinary.”
Vanitas meows a rebuttal. Riku would love to know what he’s saying.
But if Sora hasn’t noticed it on his own, then there’s no way Riku will ever be able to convince him there’s something amiss with the cat. Riku could talk until he runs out of breath, but until Sora actually sees it, Riku can’t expect him to believe it. Truthfully, Riku wouldn’t believe it either. He barely believes it now.
The cat crawls into Sora’s lap and meows directly into his face, as if to continue the argument. He wants to say he’s not finished, or one final point. One last push to prove to Sora that he’s there and alive and can understand everything he’s saying. He’s not just a cat. He’s right here!
Sora scratches beneath his chin. “He is cute, though.”
Vanitas’s head drops. He squeezes back between Sora and Riku, curls up into a ball, and pretends to sleep.
–
Nothing. There’s nothing here. He’s been searching online for hours and he can’t find anything even resembling what Vanitas has described. Of course, it’s kind of hard to describe something when you can’t speak. Riku has to fill in a lot of the blanks himself, and maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it’s not a literal windmill, but a tiny one on a mini-golf course or in an arcade, or the shiny, plastic ones that are sold in toy stores.
Riku puts his head in his hands. He stares down into his keyboard. The words Vanitas gave him: ‘Windmill’ and ‘Clock’ and ‘Smoke’ pass through his head again and again. There are no windmills in this city, as far as he knows. No remarkable clock towers, either. And smoke? He doesn’t understand.
Vanitas had pointed out the north side of town, but no matter where they wandered, they could never find anything. It all seemed to lead them in circles.
Riku rubs his eyes and pushes himself away from the computer. He needs a break. He trots into the main room and finds Vanitas asleep on the couch—not as a cat, but a human boy. Riku’s heart lurches into his throat. He creeps closer.
Honestly, he’s kind of cute in this form, too. His boyish face and wild hair are kind of like Sora’s, but his jaw is sharper, shoulders broader… If only he wasn’t so static. Riku wonders how he would move on two legs, if he would still cut corners as close as possible, stick to the shadows, or maybe drag his fingers lazily along the wall or the edge of a table as he passes. Riku wants to see it. He wants to know what kind of person Vanitas is. What he sounds like. How he laughs. If he’s just as light on his feet as Riku expects.
Right now, his breathing isn’t as calm as usual. It’s quicker. Shallow. Like pain and constriction. Riku leans closer and sees smooth cheeks shiny with tears. The upholstery beneath Vanitas’s face has been darkened with moisture. In his sleep?
Riku’s heart aches for him; and he can’t even ask what’s wrong. He can’t fix it. He pets Vanitas’s head without thinking, fingers sliding through soft black hair.
Vanitas groans and leans into the touch. His face flickers, and the illusion falls over him yet again, obscuring his form until he’s nothing but a black cat curled up on the sofa.
He wakes up fighting, and Riku sends a soothing stroke down his back. “Hey—it’s okay. I’ve got you”
Vanitas acknowledges him but doesn’t hold still. He keeps trying to squirm out from beneath Riku’s touch.
So Riku scoops the cat into his arms. “Wait. I need to ask you something.”
He thrashes about, clearly not having it. Claws come out and catch Riku across the cheek, just enough to draw blood but not enough to bleed. Even still, Riku drops him out of instinct. Vanitas lands on his feet, glances back at Riku with an expression of steel, and darts into the next room to hide under the bed. Riku brushes his cheek with his hand and it returns smeared with a meager amount of blood. For what is probably the first time, he has no idea what Vanitas is thinking.
Riku doesn’t see him again until late the next day—he’d given up on coaxing him out from beneath the bed after an hour of no progress. He’s sitting in bed, half-propped against the headboard and searching through satellite images of the north side of the city for any sort of clue, when Vanitas leaps onto the foot of the mattress. He stays there, hunched over and motionless like a shadow.
Riku locks his phone and smiles. “Hey. Where have you been?”
Vanitas hesitantly creeps towards him. He keeps his gaze low. Riku holds out his hand like an invitation, but Vanitas ducks under the touch. He goes up to Riku’s side with a quiet, downcast meow.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Riku says. “It’s fine.”
Vanitas finally looks at him, and tilts his head forward.
“Really. I mean it.” He turns to show the scratch, a thin red mark on his cheek. “It shouldn’t even leave a scar. Not unless you have enchanted claws, or something.”
He rolls his eyes so hard he wobbles.
Riku strokes his head. “So, it’s fine.”
Again, he leans into the touch, pressing against Riku’s palm.
“Do you want to search around uptown again tomorrow?”
He meows to affirm.
But then tomorrow comes, and they search for hours, combing through blocks upon blocks and somehow always ending up right back where they started.
No new clues. Nothing gained. Riku goes back to searching for windmills via satellite.
–
Sora meets Riku at a nearby coffee shop. Someplace very impersonal and modern that happens to be convenient for both of them. He’s spent the past few weeks exhausting his seemingly endless chain of friends, but he’s come up empty. No one knows a boy named Ventus. Sora apologizes with the saddest look on his face, but there’s nothing for him to be sorry about. He can’t help who he knows or doesn’t know, let alone who his friends know. He fidgets in the booth, swirling the cream and caramel drizzle of his coffee with a spoon and completely ruining the aesthetic in favor of sweetness.
Riku has a sudden urge to pierce the foam cap of his own drink as well. There has to be something obvious he’s missing. Something… maybe Sora could see. Riku already knows this is going to sound crazy, but he doesn’t have a choice anymore. “Sora, what would you say if I told you I think my cat might be cursed?”
Sora narrows his eyes. “Like Monkey’s Paw cursed, or Princess and the Frog cursed?”
“Princess and the Frog.”
“I see… Well, first I’d ask if you were feeling alright; and then I’d probably wonder what you’ve been doing to the cat.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Riku sputters.
“That’s good! Just checking!”
“Sora, I—I’m serious. Vanitas isn’t really a cat. He’s not supposed to be.”
He can’t tell if Sora is genuinely concerned or if he’s just humoring the idea because it’s Riku, but he leans onto the table at full attention. “What makes you think so?”
“So many things,” he blurts. “He told me his name with board game pieces. He responds to my questions. His mannerisms… But the real proof is that I’ve seen it. I know you don’t believe me—you wouldn’t believe the photo, either.” But he pulls out his phone and shows him anyway. Sora’s face conveys nothing. His eyebrows lift in surprise, but that’s all. “If we can get Vanitas to trust you enough, maybe he’ll actually sleep when you’re around.”
Sora scratches his head. “Wait. You lost me.”
“It happens while he’s asleep. Really asleep. If you see it too, then I know you’ll believe me.” Riku runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Or it’ll just confirm that I’ve completely lost my mind.”
Sora watches him for a moment or more. “Riku… are you alright?”
“I know you think I’m crazy.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he holds up his hands. “You just seemed stressed.”
Is that all? “I guess so…”
“How can I help?” he asks, clear and sincere despite his disbelief.
Riku can’t help but smile a bit. Sora really is the best. “I promised Vanitas I’d help him.”
“Then I’ll help too.”
“You sure?”
He grins over his coffee cup. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” Riku laughs. What did he ever do to deserve a friend like him?
“Where should we start?”
“Can you help me find Ventus?”
“You bet. Got any clues?”
“Not many,” he admits.
Sora pumps his fist anyway. “Then we’ll make it work.”
“Thanks, Sora.”
He reaches across the table and gently lays his hand on Riku’s arm. “What are best friends for?”
“Right.” His fingers tighten around Sora’s arm as well. That smile is so bright and soft. Sora gazes right into his eyes, and Riku can’t look away. His heart lurches. That look is so warm—so full of worry. Sora’s always worried about him. It’s no wonder. Riku might be insane.
Sora opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind. He chews on the words for another minute, and slowly retracts his hand. “S-so, where should we start?”
–
After all this time, all the afternoons they’ve wasted searching these streets, Riku would’ve thought that they’d know this place like the backs of their hands.
Well—hands and paws.
But they truly don’t. Every time they venture uptown, it’s like a new place. Like the streets themselves are moving and rearranging to keep them lost and off track. That really wouldn’t be the weirdest part of all of this.
Vanitas trots next to him on a sidewalk that Riku recognizes but can’t place in the sprawling network of mismatched streets he has mapped in his head. He always thought he had a pretty good sense of direction… but they’ve passed the same closed up antique shop at least three times already, without making a single turn. This is too uncanny to be anything but deliberate.
“Anything look familiar?” Riku asks.
Vanitas doesn’t respond, which is in itself a negative response.
There’s the bookshop again, too. Riku swears it was next to a coffee shop the last time they were here, but now it’s beside a small vacant lot turned into a park. Maybe it’s part of a franchise.
They pass by the park, dotted with colorful trees and benches and wrought iron fences, and there’s a rustling—the sound of something crawling through leaves and bushes. The fur along Vanitas’s back instantly stands on-end. His tail swishes to and fro. Slow and calculated. He’s plotting something already. Riku is sure of it.
A fluffy white cat emerges from the leaves, slipping through the rungs of the fence. He catches both their eyes and stops in his tracks.
Vanitas lifts his head.
The white cat flinches, and Vanitas skitters closer. It’s a full conversation at a frequency Riku can’t hear.
“Vanitas…” Riku chances, but gold eyes immediately turn to glare at him. It couldn’t be any clearer. ‘Shut up.’
The white cat takes a few careful steps backwards, studying the two of them with wide blue eyes. They’re full of fear. An almost unnatural blue…
Vanitas moves toward the other cat with quick, frantic paws.
The sudden motion triggers something, and the white cat darts away with a pathetic yelp. Vanitas is hot on his heels.
Riku has no idea what just transpired, but bolts after them anyway. It’s not like he has much of a choice. But it’s hard to keep up with something that has twice as many legs as him and was built for sprinting. Riku hopes that the days he spent on his high school track team aren’t too far behind him.
The white cat is quick—slipping through fences and shrubs and narrow alleys and parking lots—but Vanitas is faster. Riku has just lost sight of them over a wall when he hears the two howling on the next block. The fight has started. Riku should’ve known. He’d always pegged Vanitas as a hot head.
Riku rounds the corner and spots the two, leaping and batting at each other down a dim side street. The fight continues to travel as the white cat keeps trying to escape. Riku runs in after them, past an old mural of chipped paint depicting an image of a windmill. His legs almost stop working, but he can’t stop. He can’t lose track of them.
The street brightens as the white cat darts through the graffiti-lined threshold, leading them into a bizarrely empty city square that Riku has never seen before. They’ve wandered around this side of town for so long, how could they have missed this? There’s a strange art piece in the center of the square. It’s a mess of twisted metal scrap on a concrete pedestal, surrounded by ornate brickwork in the shape of a giant clock face.
Vanitas chases the white cat into the square and tackles him with a tremendous leap. The two cats tumble and roll over one another, biting and hissing and scratching. Vanitas is clearly getting the upper hand. He lands a good swipe along the white cat’s face that draws blood.
Riku holds up his hands, as if that could somehow stop this. “Hey—”
The white cat lands on his back, and the illusion dissolves like frost on a windowpane. A boy with deep blue eyes and spiky blonde hair emerges from the dust. There’s a long, bleeding scratch above his eye. He gets his hands around Vanitas, but the black cat doesn’t stop fighting. He leaves more scratches down the boy’s arm and ends up getting tossed away.
“Enough!” The boy shouts. “Who are you!? Why can I understand you!?”
Vanitas plants his paws and arches his back, fur standing in a shark fin along his spine.
Blue eyes turn towards Riku. It’s hard to tell if he’s frightened or just angry. “What’s going on!?”
“Are you Ventus?” Riku asks. It’s best to get to the point quickly.
Everything else on the boy’s face melts away, until he only looks puzzled. He swipes the dripping blood with the back of his hand before it runs into his eyes. “… Have we met?”
“We haven’t. But I know your brother.”
Ventus blinks. His smile is empty. “I don’t have a brother.”
That can’t be right.
Vanitas doesn’t move an inch.
But still, Ventus looks over at him. “What do you mean?” He’s met with more silence. Or maybe not. Ventus’s face scrunches up, as if baffled by what Vanitas is saying. But he’s not saying anything. Not even a purr. Can Ventus really understand him? Even in this form? The blonde boy scoffs: “It’s not called a rememory spell, it’s—” and he stops dead. “That is what I used to call it, though. When I was just a kid… How do you know that?” There’s no audible response. “But that’s not possible!”
Vanitas meows loudly and aggressively. He’s fighting with everything he’s got now.
“Okay, fine!” he submits. “I’ll see what I can find.” Golden eyes only stare him down. Ventus leads them back through the same dimly-lit side street with the windmill mural, past the strange graffiti that, now that Riku is getting a closer look, doesn’t resemble any words or language he’s ever seen. He takes them to a secluded alcove, and sits on the ground with a sigh. “If it’ll get you to leave me alone… What am I looking for, anyway?”
Riku really wishes he could hear the other half of this conversation.
Ventus narrows his eyes. “Do you know how complicated memory-altering magic is? How long that would take?” Vanitas apparently responds, because Ventus grumbles back: “Alright already.” He pulls something out of his pocket. It’s round and smooth like a coin. He taps the surface a few times, and more strange symbols light up along its surface. He presses the token against his forehead without another word. Not even an incantation. Maybe that’s just in the movies.
Riku glances at Vanitas for some kind of explanation, but Vanitas isn’t paying him any attention. He’s too focused on what Ventus is doing, and Riku isn’t about to flaunt his ignorance in this situation.
Ventus stays like that for a long, long time, sitting like he’s meditating. Or asleep. Or searching the deepest sections of his mind for something he’s misplaced. His face slowly falls. Calm, then empty, then concentrated, before finally twisting up with concern. He twitches in pain, and Vanitas is alert. Ventus’s expression becomes more and more strained the longer he sits there. Minutes crawl by, until Riku has no idea how long he’s been standing around waiting, leaning against the cold brick with his knees locked. Any attempt at conversing with Vanitas has been met with silence.
At last, Ventus gasps. His eyes spring open and the coin falls forgotten from his fingers. He scrambles to his feet, snatches Vanitas up, and holds him against his shoulder with tears streaming down his face in a flood. “Vanitas!” His hand parts the fur on Vanitas’s back, like he’s searching for something. He blinks more tears from his eyes and runs his fingertips along the cat’s spine. “Remember now… what form did you have?”
Riku comes off of the wall. Maybe the movies aren’t completely inaccurate, after all.
The illusion of the cat slowly dissipates, air parting like a curtain in the shifting light, and Vanitas is standing there. He’s just as he appeared in the photos. Strong arms and full chest and pointed nose and wild black hair with a mind of its own. He holds on to Ventus’s shoulders for support, and golden eyes flutter open. They’re the exact same shade as the cat’s. Ventus leans back and assesses his brother, his smile breaking his face in two. “Vanitas!”
Dry lips fall open but no words come out.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Ventus hugs him tighter. “I’m so sorry.”
Vanitas only hums. He doesn’t even move.
“You were right. My memory was overwritten after you escaped. It… wasn’t easy to break.”
“I told you,” Vanitas mumbles. His voice is rough and crackling from disuse.
Ventus chuckles. “You’re not even proud of me?”
“You’re so hopeless, Ventus,” he croaks, but it isn’t harsh at all.
Ventus sends him a watery grin. “I’ve told you a thousand times—call me Ven.” His eyes sparkle with light and mischief. “Don’t you remember, Vani?”
His lips twitch into a smile. It only exists for an instant. “Whatever…”
‘Vani,’ huh? That’s surprisingly cute. Riku files the information away for later.
“I’m so sorry,” Ven says again. “I never meant to leave you all alone.”
And then they both realize that Riku is still standing there, witnessing such a tender and important moment in its entirety. They start to pull apart. Ven looks away, but Vanitas snaps his head towards Riku. He’s gaping like he’s unsure if Riku is even real. He takes a careful step closer, and his legs give out.
Riku rushes forward to catch him. Vanitas crashes into his chest, gasping in shock and pain. He hasn’t had to use those legs for a while. It’s no wonder. Gold eyes turn up to Riku. Finally seeing his face—his real face—awake and alive is breathtaking. “Hey,” Riku fumbles out a whisper. He can’t stop his grin.
Vanitas’s lips barely twitch upwards. “Hey,” he says, and Riku takes care to memorize the low and strained pitch of his voice. How it’s so uneven from only using a certain register for so long.
Riku helps Vanitas to his feet and holds him steady.
Ven hops over towards them, smile not fading. “Looks like you weren’t totally alone, huh?”
Vanitas laughs through his nose.
“Name’s Ventus. Call me Ven.”
“Riku,” he answers.
“Thanks, Riku. You really saved us.”
That doesn’t sound right. At this point, Riku feels like he’s done next to nothing at all. “Can I ask… what happened? Why were you both cats?”
“It’s… kind of a long story…” but he starts to tell it anyway. “When Vani and I were kids, we used to sneak out and play in the city. But we weren’t allowed, so I’d turn us into cats first so no one would notice. Even after the memories were gone, I’d… always wondered why that form felt more comfortable than others,” he muses. “Once we got caught, we had to get out. We couldn’t let the other sorcerers find us. But I only had enough time to disguise Vani…” So, Ven was unlucky enough to be caught and have his memory altered, and Vanitas was unlucky enough to get away on his own.
That leaves Riku with only more questions.
Vanitas squeezes his arm. “Like he said: it’s a long story.” Those are the words he says but the ones he means are: ‘Shut up and I’ll explain later.’
Riku nods, hearing the message loud and clear.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Ven breathes. “But… we shouldn’t stay much longer. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
Riku almost asks why, but all the talk of transforming and memory-altering magic is enough of an answer for him. For now.
Ven starts drawing symbols and shapes on their arms with an ink pen he fished out of his pocket. “You two gotta get out of here before anyone sees Vani. I’m sure they’d recognize him. I’ll send you back so you don’t get lost, okay? The meandering spells around here are really strong.”
“You sure?” Vanitas asks, narrowed eyes and voice still crackling.
“Yeah,” Ven smiles, “I got this. I’ve… had a lot of practice. Don’t worry. I remember now. We’ll work it out. I’ll see you soon.”
He doesn’t give Vanitas time to argue, as the symbols then begin to burn on Riku’s skin. Gravity goes completely off-center, and his arms coil tight around Vanitas like a lifeline. The world blurs out of focus and into nothing but white.
And then the bricks of the alleyway reconstruct themselves around them. One particle at a time. It’s the same leaf-strewn street where they found the white cat that turned out to be Ventus. Riku all but blinked, and now they’re here, and Ventus is gone.
Fingers hesitantly creep up Riku’s back, returning the embrace he hadn’t realized he initiated. “You’ve really never seen magic before, huh?” Vanitas chuckles lightly into his chest.
“Of course I haven’t,” Riku splutters, face turning hot.
Vanitas keeps laughing. It’s not at all how Riku imagined it. He thought it’d be something clean and perfect like bells, but it’s raspy, gritty like fine sandpaper or an old, dusty record. “We should go for now.”
As opposed to loudly discussing magic in an alleyway? “Right… Let’s go home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah,” he insists with a tightening grip. “Home.”
Vanitas takes the deepest breath. “Okay.”
“Can you walk?”
“I… I think so.”
As it turns out, Vanitas is having a little trouble returning to bipedal movement. He takes a few shaky steps before almost tripping over himself. Riku carries him the rest of the way home on his back.
“You’re always doing things for me,” Vanitas complains against his shoulder.
Riku snorts. “And what’s so wrong with that?”
“I don’t like being in debt to someone.”
“It’s not a debt. Just let me do it.” He readjusts Vanitas’s weight on his back. “I… enjoy it.”
Vanitas holds his tongue for a while, eventually deciding on: “If you say so.”
Riku carts him inside, letting him down at the kitchen table. “You want anything?”
Vanitas sighs as he plops into a seat. He answers almost immediately: “Hot cocoa.”
Sweeter than he imagined. He assumed Vanitas was a black coffee kind of guy. “All I have is the prepackaged stuff.” It’s the cocoa he has stashed away in the back of the cupboard for whenever Sora comes over.
“That’s fine. As long as it’s warm and chocolate.”
Fair enough. Riku prepares a cup for himself as well, since he’s doing it. He sets the steaming mug in front of Vanitas, and the boy picks it up with both hands, full contact against his palms. He takes a sip and winces at the heat. “Careful,” Riku warns.
“Not enough caution in the world to keep me away from this,” Vanitas declares.
“I guess not many people are giving saucers of hot cocoa to stray cats.”
“No,” he frowns. “Not many.”
Riku blows cool air over the top of his mug. It’s still too hot to drink. Vanitas is still silently sipping on it anyway. “So… Ven is the one who turned you into a cat?”
“Yeah.”
“So you could get away?”
“Mhm.”
“Does that mean you can do magic too?”
Vanitas grimaces. “You think I would’ve stayed a cat if I knew any magic?” he hisses. There’s something hot and troubled running just beneath the surface of his skin that Riku can’t decipher. “No. I can’t. It’s impossible for me. Ventus took all of it.”
“Huh?”
“It’s because we’re twins,” he sighs, fingers threading together around the warm mug. “There’s no such thing as twin sorcerers, because before they’re even born, one twin steals the magic of the other. That twin is born with tremendous power. The other one… is left with nothing.” He’s writhing in his seat. Tightly pressed lips curl downward like he feels sick.
Riku swallows the buildup in his mouth before his throat completely closes up. “Is that why you had to run?”
“Sort of… You’re not supposed to know about magic if you can’t perform magic. I should’ve had my memory altered a long time ago, but Ventus and I kept it hidden pretty well. For a while, at least. He did all the work. There was nothing I could do.”
Riku nods, understanding already. Once they were found out, there was no way they could stay. “You were stuck like that for a while, right? I’m impressed you never gave up.”
Vanitas gives him a look. “What do you mean? I did give up. I’d given up on ever getting back. Ventus was all but gone, and I was powerless to do anything. I was sick of screaming with no one listening…”
“How long were you stuck like that?”
“Long enough,” is all he says, voice beginning to break. He rubs his throat and winces. “I’m not used to this. My voice hurts already. Just from this much…”
Riku lowers his head. That’s understandable. But still… he was kind of enjoying the conversation. He’s waited so long to talk with him like this.
Vanitas suddenly scoffs: “Don’t pout.”
“I’m not—” He doesn’t finish the sentence, or even the thought. There’s no point. Vanitas’s eyes have turned distant, focused on something else. It’s remarkable. He’s gotten so good at staying silent. He doesn’t even need words anymore.
Vanitas reaches over and gently touches Riku’s cheek, where the cat scratch used to be. There’s nothing left now, not even a scar, but Vanitas slides his thumb across the spot as if it’s still new. As if he’s memorized its location just as well as Riku has. He’s frowning, but he still says nothing. He doesn’t need to.
“Are you going to kiss it and make it better?” Riku teases. It’s a joke. Completely. Mostly. But Vanitas’s face turns absolutely red, and Riku bursts out laughing. He really doesn’t need to say anything at all.
Vanitas draws back his hand. “Go to hell.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
It takes him a second to answer. He rubs the red out of his cheeks with a soft little laugh. “Wow. I think I understand Sora a little better now…”
“Huh?”
“You’re nothing but a flirt,” he accuses, and Riku chokes. Frantic half-words tumble out of his mouth. “But I know you. You can’t take your own medicine. You’re about to shut down right now.”
“I’m not—I don’t mean—” He can’t even speak properly. His face is burning hot. It’s just a joke, right? Isn’t it?
Vanitas scoffs. “Sora may not call you out on your bullshit, but I will.” He reaches for Riku’s cheek again, leaning fully over the table and tugging him by the back of the neck. Soft lips press against the same spot, where skin has been stitched together like new, where not even a scar remains. Vanitas finds the old scratch without any landmarks. He’s warm and gentle and smells like pine. Riku is sure his heart stops. Vanitas pulls back with a smarmy grin on his face that Riku doesn’t hate. “I knew it.”
His mouth drops open but his voice won’t form.
“Total system shutdown,” Vanitas laughs. “I should tell Sora.”
There mere idea of Sora doing such a thing is enough to make Riku stand up from his chair.
Vanitas laughs harder into his mug. His cocoa is almost gone. “I’m definitely telling Sora.”
“You—” He’s cut off. His throat has closed over his voice.
Vanitas cups his ear. “Hm? What’s that?”
“Knock it off,” Riku forces, and drops back into his seat. He can’t even convince himself with that kind of tone.
“Oh, he’s bashful,” he keeps snickering.
“You’ve got the wrong idea.”
“Please. I’ve seen you and Sora flirt for weeks now. It’s enough to make me sick.”
Riku watches him scowl and decides to hold onto that instead. He can’t let Vanitas drag him along like this, despite the warmth still radiating off of his face. “What? You jealous?”
Vanitas huffs. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not hearing ‘no’.”
“I don’t need to be jealous of you two idiots dancing around each other. It’s so obvious, even the cat can see it. Just get it over with already.”
“That’s big talk from the cat who keeps falling asleep on my chest.”
His mouth clicks shut. He pulls the empty mug of cocoa closer, cheeks barely dusted pink. “It was warm,” he murmurs.
Riku feels as though he’s trodden upon a proverbial tail. He takes another drink of cocoa, but the damage has been done. The jovial atmosphere is extinguished. “Sorry.”
Vanitas sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I’m tired.”
“I can’t imagine.”
He doesn’t say anything else. He slowly gets to his feet, bracing himself on the tabletop.
Riku stands as well. Just in case.
“I’ve got it.”
Riku doesn’t believe it. He stays close. Vanitas walks slowly, but otherwise alright. He makes it to the main room before he fumbles and starts to lose his balance. Again, Riku catches him before he hits the floor, and Vanitas lays a frustrated fist against his chest. He’s trembling, livid that his body won’t respond the way it’s supposed to. The way he’s gotten used to. “Vanitas… how long has it really been?”
He doesn’t answer. He only sucks in an uneven breath, shaking his head to ignore the question like a child.
Riku knows he can’t force an answer out of him, but for it to be such a long time that Vanitas doesn’t even want to say… It makes his chest ache. Riku strokes his hair out of habit. He can’t think of anything else to do. They’ve come this far, but he still can’t fix it. He can’t fix anything.
All it takes is patience. Vanitas’s muscles haven’t atrophied, he’s just being forced to move in a way he’s not used to anymore. He seems to get the hang of it after a few days of trying. He’ll still fumble on occasion, if he’s too distracted or panicking. His reflexes have changed. He’s readjusting to his own body.
Riku takes in every detail. He watches Vanitas move around the apartment without a sound. Light, bouncing footfalls. He leans into corners and lets his fingertips graze the back of the couch as he passes by. Every thought is clear on his face. Every move is measured and deliberate. It’s almost exactly how Riku imagined.
He falls asleep next to Riku on the sofa three nights in a row, once against his side and twice curled by the armrest. It looks like that’s a habit he plans on keeping. Not that Riku minds at all.
–
Sora listens to the story with his mouth hanging open. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, but Riku is describing it in such detail. This has to be a joke. A magic incantation to turn the boy back to normal? Sora glances at the stranger sitting on the other end of the sofa. The stranger that appeared as soon as the cat vanished. “And that… was you? You were the cat?”
Vanitas shrugs, still not saying anything. Well, those silent gold eyes are certainly the same.
“Next you’re going to tell me that there’s a princess mixed up in all this.”
Riku just laughs. “I told you he wasn’t ordinary.”
Sora still feels like this is some elaborate joke they’re pulling on him. Not that Riku is one for crazy pranks… but Sora doesn’t know this other guy—Vanitas. The same weird name as Riku’s even weirder cat!
That guy snorts: “He didn’t believe you. Because he’s not insane. He thought the stress was driving you nuts.”
Riku just rolls his eyes.
“How would you know?” Sora defends.
Vanitas tilts his head, expression mirroring that of the cat’s. Sharp, cool, and disbelieving. “I can relay the rest of the conversation, if you’d like.”
“Huh?”
“There you go judging me again,” Vanitas mocks. “But emotions are hard and complicated.” Those eyes meet Sora’s—and Sora knows what comes next, and he feels dread and panic drop through him like a stone.
Vanitas opens his mouth, and Sora darts over like a lightning bolt. His hands clamp down hard on those words and his body collides with Vanitas and they both fall onto the couch cushions in a heap. “Wait!” He’s breathless. Vanitas’s lips curl into a grin beneath his fingers. Sora wouldn’t be shocked if he was still hiding fangs. “I believe you! Okay?!”
Vanitas laughs, eyes clearly taunting without a single word. How does he do that? How does he know that? He can’t actually be… he couldn’t possibly be…
“You really were cursed,” Sora breathes, and Vanitas rolls his eyes.
He tugs Sora’s hands from his mouth. “Curses aren’t real,” he says. “Just like there’s no such thing as ‘bad magic.’ It all depends on what you do with it.”
Sora nods, completely enraptured. Magic… is real? How cool is that?!
Riku clears his throat from across the room. “Guys,” and he gestures to the two of them—how Sora is still sprawled haphazardly over Vanitas; and how Vanitas is still holding Sora up by his waist.
Sora splutters something that can’t even be considered words, and scrambles back to his side of the couch. His heart is thumping viciously in his chest.
Vanitas just laughs. At what exactly, Sora doesn’t know. “Don’t pout. You wish Sora would climb over you like that,” he jabs.
Sora’s heart drops again. He should’ve kept his hands sealed over Vanitas’s mouth while he had the chance. His eyes steal a glance a Riku, totally nonchalantly, not trying to imply anything or seem too desperate; but as soon as he sees Riku’s face utterly flushed with red, that glance turns to a stare.
His mouth is open, but he’s not saying anything. Vanitas snickers something about a “shutdown.”
“Vanitas,” Riku grumbles. He runs a hand down his face like he could hide.
“I told you.”
Sora has no idea what they’re talking about. And after another moment of excruciating silence, Riku stands and retreats into the kitchen. He’s refusing to look at either of them.
Sora chews on his lip. Did they make him angry somehow?
“Hey,” Vanitas says, scooting over to Sora’s side of the couch. “I have an idea.”
“Huh?”
His arm falls across Sora’s shoulders, pulling him close and murmuring into his ear. “I want to see him melt.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“If you want that idiot to understand how you feel, you’re gonna have to make it obvious.” And Sora stops breathing. He wouldn’t. Sora told him all of that in assumed confidence! “He won’t believe you otherwise.”
“What do you mean?” Sora stutters.
“Remember all those times he teased you, or lead you on?”
“N-no, not really…”
Vanitas doesn’t buy that for a second. His grin is wicked. He really could have fangs still lurking behind his lips. “Come with me. Just follow my lead.”
Sora ignores the fluttering in his stomach and the tightening in his chest and the spinning in his head and every instinct in every corner of his body screaming at him to stop—and follows Vanitas into the kitchen.
–
Riku has got to get his heart rate under control. He can’t let Vanitas keep doing this to him so easily. And in front of Sora!
Sora doesn’t need to know that Riku remembers every single time he’s leaned against him, fallen asleep on his shoulder, brushed passed him or grabbed his hand or his arm or—
Stop. Stop it.
And Vanitas doesn’t need to know that Riku has kept count of all the times he’s slept on his chest—six exactly—as a cat or otherwise—two and four, respectively.
They don’t need to know. It’s just a joke.
Cool hands suddenly slip around Riku’s arm, and he jumps. Vanitas is standing next to him with a thin, evil smile. Riku didn’t even hear him approach. “Are you running away?”
“I’m going to tie a bell around your neck,” Riku grumbles.
“I always knew you were into that sort of thing.”
“I—”
Sora suddenly appears at his other side, so close Riku can feel his body heat. “Do I get a bell too?”
And Riku’s mind shuts down.
“It’s only fair,” Vanitas snickers.
“That’s—I—”
Sora’s hand grazes his arm as well. Warm and gentle and familiar. “Riku? Are you okay?”
Vanitas is still laughing. What’s so funny about this!? “He’s more than okay.”
“Guys…” Riku stammers.
“Who knew he was so bashful? We haven’t even done anything.”
Sora hums, “It’s kinda cute,” and Riku’s heart totally stops.
He tries to worm out of their grasp but they won’t let him go. “Y-you… wait—just…” Damn it. He’s a blubbering mess. Where are his words?
“It’s called being appreciated. Just enjoy it,” Vanitas says with a tightening grip and wandering hand. “But it’s also retaliation, you flirt.”
“Vanitas—”
He slides closer and presses his face against Riku’s shoulder.
“H-hey…”
“Why are you getting so worked up? You never cared before.”
“You were a cat before!”
“But you knew I wasn’t. So it shouldn’t matter now.” It’s not the same. It isn’t. Riku’s heart is thumping way too fast for it to be the same. “That doesn’t explain Sora, though. Do you just not like him?”
Sora’s grip turns to stone around his arm. Alarms start screaming in Riku’s head. “Don’t be stupid. That’s not it,” he blurts as fast as he can before Sora gets the wrong idea and has his feelings hurt and thinks that Riku doesn’t actually—what? “I’m just not used to—I don’t want to think—or get… the wrong idea. When I know you’re just joking.”
Sora’s fingers tighten still.
But Vanitas speaks up first. “Who said it was a joke?”
“W-what?”
“It’s not a joke.”
Sora reaches up and cups his cheek with a trembling hand, dragging Riku’s attention away from anything and everything else. His eyes are so warm. His soft smile like sunbeams. It’s that look again, laden with worry… isn’t it? “Is it just a joke to you?” he asks.
“No,” Riku answers immediately. His arms coil around them both and pull them against him. Three bodies stand woven together. “It’s not. I just…”
“Just accept it,” Vanitas offers.
Accept what? Their appreciation? Their affection? Feelings? Whichever it is, Riku will gladly take it. “Okay.”
Vanitas hums into his shoulder. “That’s better. Besides, Sora’s been dying for an excuse to touch you.”
“Vanitas!” Sora instantly sputters. “This was your idea!”
“You chased a cat around for two days just so you could pet it.”
“And you melted in my arms after just one scratch!”
Riku shakes his head. “You don’t… need an excuse.” He pulls them closer, pressed safely against his side. “Neither of you do.” And Vanitas noticeably stiffens. “If you want something, just ask.”
Sora leans back. “But then I won’t get to hear you stammer anymore!”
“Believe me, it’s really easy,” Vanitas snorts.
These two…
“That makes me wonder about you, Vanitas. Are you easy to trip up?”
“Not on your life.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re not as cute as you used to be, but still kinda cute—so let me touch you!” Sora snatches up Vanitas’s hands and sends him his best sunshine smile. Vanitas’s face falters. Caught already.
Riku chuckles. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”
Sora keeps smiling. Vanitas squirms, trying to get out of his grasp, but Sora refuses to let him go.