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The Land of Departure was still welcoming spring, and with all the new residents in place, they’d had time and manpower to even invest in a welcoming ceremony.
Ven had admitted it’d been less of a ceremony for them before and more just an excuse to picnic outside, but Sora was not going to have any of that. A party was going to be a proper party, especially with Sora involved, and that meant decorations, games, and food, which he was in charge of. They’d all equally divied up responsibilities, and because no one was sure of what Vanitas could do reliably, Sora had taken him under his wing for kitchen duty. If Sora could learn to crack eggs, he was pretty sure more-smart-than-he-should-be Vanitas could.
So Sora was in the kitchen with Vanitas, replicating another of Little Chef’s recipes when he first heard it.
A tiny little hiccup.
He glanced over his shoulder at Vanitas, whose amber eyes were wider than Sora had ever seen them. It was almost comical. His heavy dark lashes, similar to Sora’s but more dramatic with his black lashes versus Sora’s brown, were perfectly circular. It gave him a surprisingly youthful look, especially with the smear of frosting on his cheek. His hand hovered uncertainly over his chest, confusion writ across his features.
Then, like a soap bubble, a tiny creature floated into view.
“Oh!” Sora said, setting aside the chef’s knife and wiping his hands on his apron quickly. The pots on the stove were all simmering and bubbling happily, and so he felt confident he could leave them on their own for a few minutes. He crossed over to the island counter Vanitas was sitting at, careful of the confections Vanitas was determinedly decorating with absolutely no input from Sora allowed. Vanitas’ gaze was riveted on the tiny floaty creature, and Sora cocked his head at it. “What is this?”
“It’s… an unversed,” Vanitas said uncertainly. He looked oddly sick, especially with Sora’s bright yellow apron on him contrasting the pallor of his face. If there was one thing Vanitas hated, it was ruining his new clothes. He even preferred donning his darksuit over using his regular training clothes during lessons, which baffled Sora. The apron was probably a little overkill on Sora’s part given there were three perfectly normal black ones in stock, but Vanitas didn’t have to know that. Besides, it looked great on his black turtleneck. “But I don’t know what.”
Sora cooed at it to see if it would respond like some of the others did. However, Vanitas hiccuped again, and the soap bubble in front of him violently exploded in sharp prickly spikes, like a porcupine, and another unversed floated out of Vanitas’ mouth in the same jagged shape before they simultaneously resumed a smooth bubble look. They floated merrily around each other, almost playful.
Sora gasped in delight. “They’re hiccups!”
“Hiccups?” Vanitas demanded warily, and with a surprisingly hard thwack, Vanitas smacked his fist into his chest. He was scowling down at himself and Sora couldn’t help bursting into laughter at his decidedly characteristic reaction. “What the fuck is that?”
Still chuckling, Sora curiously poked one of the floating unversed, and it bounced softly away from his fingertip like a balloon. It was as big as a tennis ball maybe, and hadn’t done that weird jagged thing again. Vanitas looked up the moment Sora poked it, brows drawing down angrily. Sora grinned.
“I don’t know why it happens,” Sora admitted, “but it’s like a yawn or a sneeze — just a natural reaction from your body. It’ll go away in a while.”
Right on cue, Vanitas hiccuped cutely again, and out popped another unversed. All three of them tilted lazily in place as they porcupine-d, and then it passed and they resumed their bubbliness.
“I don’t like it,” Vanitas announced.
Vanitas announced that in regards to a lot of things. Carrots? I don’t like it. Aqua? I don’t like her. Practicing defensive maneuvers? I don’t like them.
“They’re harmless,” Sora reassured. Very carefully, he reached up to cup one in his hands, and Vanitas did a whole body shiver and glared balefully at Sora, who ignored it, more than used to Vanitas’ tantrums. The unversed was all pale soapy colors, iridescent and smooth to the touch. Sora imagined if you could touch bubbles without popping them, it’d feel something like this. He tried grabbing it, lightly pinching the surface and pulling at its cheek. It gave a little, stretching before it snapped back into place, and Vanitas instantly stretched across the counter to swipe at Sora, who neatly dodged the move.
“Stop that!” Vanitas snapped, one hand slapping up towards his own cheek.
“Did that hurt?” Sora asked curiously, releasing the unversed so Vanitas wouldn’t get more worked up.
“No,” Vanitas scowled, though Vanitas would never admit in the first place even if it had.
Sora peered at him. Vanitas could lie with the best of them, and Ven, who was the unfortunate recipient of most of Vanitas’ pranks, often muttered he should’ve been born with a forked tongue. Sora personally thought Ven was just a little too gullible. Still, for all his silver tongue and brisk attitude, even Vanitas couldn’t hide physical tells.
But there was no strain around his eyes or telltale stiffness in his body, so Sora pursed his lips and dropped the matter.
“Well, I don’t think they’re going to actually do anything,” Sora said at last. He poked another one as it floated near him and it bounced off his fingers to trail lazily in the opposite direction.
“How do I get rid of these hiccups?” Vanitas demanded and Sora laughed. His glower darkened even more and Sora stifled his laughter so Vanitas wouldn’t feel offended.
It wasn’t really at his expense. It was just… well. The naivety was adorable. “You just have to wait for them to go away on their own.”
“Or,” and they both jumped, turning to the doorway to spot Riku watching on with a smirk. He was leaning against the doorjamb, one arm on his hip and half his hair tied up. Visible paint splotches wound up his arms in an interesting story of harried mistakes. “You could try a few tricks.”
“Ugh, Riku,” Sora whined. “Not those again.”
“They work and you know it,” Riku pointed out, crossing the kitchen to eye Vanitas’ cupcakes. He’d stuck with a few solid colors and some neat piping trick Sora had given him an example of. Vanitas was a quick study and had easily copied it. Riku reached for a yellow frosted cupcake and quick as lightning Vanitas’ hand lashed out to smack Riku’s hard. “Fine,” Riku recoiled.
“They’re not done yet,” Sora translated, because Vanitas seemed satisfied with just scowling and threatening bodily harm. “And they don’t work. The only reason my hiccups always went away is because you’d start laughing non-stop and then I’d start laughing.”
“Then we just have to make Vanitas laugh,” Riku said smugly, well aware this was impossible to do if Vanitas didn’t want it. He crossed his arms, bare because the moment they’d made the castle their new home Riku had shucked his battle clothes for his sleeveless tanks. It made his biceps annoyingly obvious, and Sora was positive Riku was doing this on purpose because Vanitas didn’t even have to cross his arms for his to be glaringly eye-catching, and with Sora between the both of them it didn’t even take 20/20 vision to play Spot the Differences.
“I’d like to see you try,” Sora said, putting his hands on his hips. He and Riku eyed each other, and then Vanitas hiccuped. If someone could glare at themself in betrayal, Vanitas would be at that moment, Sora was sure.
Another stray unversed floated into the air, pinwheeling as all of them had mini-outbursts before calming down. Then Vanitas hiccuped again, and a third time, and Sora wished he could snap a photo right that instant of Vanitas’ perplexed and incensed expression as several unversed floated around him.
“How cute,” Riku remarked, lips curling. In Riku’s defense— well, no, Riku really was just that sarcastic all that time. Sora couldn’t save this one.
“Shut up!” Vanitas snapped, flushing. “Neither of you are funny enough to make me laugh, so don’t even try. Unless you fall off a cliff. Maybe then it’d be hilarious.”
“Terrible sense of humor,” Riku muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Yours really isn’t much better,” Sora pointed out. “Funny faces still make you laugh.”
“No they don’t!”
“Yes they do!” And to prove his point, Sora hooked his fingers into the corners of his lips and dragged them down, gritting his teeth. Riku’s lips pursed as his cheeks puffed, and Sora let go to grin properly, and then Riku promptly lost it, practically giggling and shoving Sora’s face away. “You’re such a dork, Riku,” Sora said, grabbing at Riku’s wrist to pray his hand off his face.
“Anyone would laugh at a dork like you,” Vanitas said, grabbing the piping bag to resume his work. It reminded Sora he had his own pots going, and after watching Riku laugh to himself for a beat longer, admiring the fetching color of pink Riku’s cheeks often turned and how good it felt to see and make Riku laugh so easily nowadays, Sora turned back to investigate how they were doing.
“But would you laugh?” Sora asked cheekily, glancing over his shoulder.
Vanitas waved a few unversed away before they could land on the cupcakes, and they drifted towards Riku instead. Vanitas watched them in mild consternation before apparently giving up, cheeks coloring. “You’d have to try harder than that.”
Sora hummed as he thought, then beckoned Riku over. “Since you’re in here, come taste test this.”
“You always make me do it,” Riku complained.
“Because you’re finicky,” Sora retorted, which was true and made for a great baseboard to bounce off. He held the spoon of jam out, and Riku frowned but obediently walked over, bending over so Sora could spoon feed him. He twisted his lips back and forth.
“It’s sweet and uh… hmm, tarty?” Riku wondered.
“You think?” Sora asked, scooping out more to nibble at for himself. Then, with the spoon mostly full, he trotted to the counter and held it across for Vanitas. “What do you think?”
Vanitas’ gaze darted to the outstretched spoon, up to Sora’s eyes, then flickered to Riku’s before going back to the spoon. Hesitating, he leaned forward and took a tiny nibble. Sora refrained from making a big deal out of it, but it felt like his stomach did a little cartwheel witnessing this display of trust. Sora knew it mostly had to do with how he’d been teaching Vanitas how to cook, and all the books he’d acquired and conveniently left around for Vanitas to seemingly discover on his own, but it still made him feel warm that they’d progressed this far. For someone so aggressive and volatile, Vanitas could be surprisingly vulnerable.
“Tastes fine to me,” Vanitas grumbled, shying away and determinedly going back to piping. Sora briefly wondered if Vanitas even felt confidence in criticizing food. He hiccuped again and out popped another one. There was a tiny army of them now, and Sora was hopelessly endeared by them.
“They look like bubbles,” Riku noted. He held a finger out as if beckoning a bird, shyly approaching one. Vanitas always had a troubled expression when people interacted with the unversed in front of them, Sora had noticed. He’d grumbled once, after Sora had incessantly asked, that it was because despite them being separate from him they were still connected. He felt what they felt, even when he didn’t want to. And when people touched or talked to them, it was as if they were talking to him.
The problem was more than just that, though. Like Sora, a few of them thought the unversed were rather cute. What they’d do to them — pet, coddle, hug — were not what they’d do to Vanitas himself. Any disgust aimed at them too was inevitably reflected back on Vanitas.
It was complicated, and Sora was always silently grateful he didn’t have to deal with it. It was probably why he didn’t mind when Vanitas was rude or short tempered. If Sora could never hide how he felt, he probably would be too.
“Bubbles?” Vanitas quietly asked, looking to Sora habitually.
“They really do,” Sora admitted. He went over to the kitchen and turned the faucet on, pumping out some dish soap and lathering up before turning the faucet back off and heading back to Vanitas. “Look.” He briskly rubbed his hands together, then tucked his forefinger into his thumb tight, so it was all coiled up. Slowly, he dragged the edge of his nail against the side of his thumb, so that Vanitas could see the shiny rainbow consistency of a bubble forming. Once he had his fingers forming an OK, he held it up and blew into it.
Normally he was too impatient to get it on the first go around, but he made sure to go slowly so it wouldn’t pop. Eventually, he was afraid just the size alone would make it burst, so he closed his fingers in tight again so it could pop free, and it floated up along with the unversed. They regarded it curiously, red eyes squinting.
Vanitas lifted a hand up to poke it, flinching when it popped. Immediately he hiccuped right after, and he looked so frustrated it was impossible not to laugh, especially when Riku was already snickering.
“Okay, seriously, as this rate you’re never going to finish,” Riku said, wiping at his eyes.
“I’m almost done,” Sora said defensively. He stood up to finish washing his hands and dried them on a towel. Everything on and in the stove had been finished — really all that was left was the fruit Sora was chopping. “But since you seem to be so free, maybe you can help Vanitas finish frosting.”
“Sora,” Riku said, hapless, and Sora grinned even though Riku couldn’t see it as he turned back to cutting fruit.
“Maybe you’ll finally get good at it,” Sora teased, and Riku went slightly pink. He never did well being teased, too used to being on the other end of it.
“You trained under a five star chef!” Riku retorted, but Sora still heard the telltale scrape of Riku dragging a stool over to be beside Vanitas.
“And Vanitas trained under me, and look how he’s doing.”
Vanitas hiccuped again, and Sora was maybe starting to feel a little bad for him. Sora knew some people hiccuped something terrible, but Vanitas’ was very sudden and small, always so surprised. With a chuckle, Sora moved to grab him a glass of water.
“How long have you been hiccuping?” Riku asked curiously.
“None of your business,” Vanitas said waspishly, and Sora blinked, surprised by the antagonism.
“Well, fine it’s not,” Riku replied, drawing away and scowling. For all Riku could be rude himself, he took offense pretty quickly, too. He snagged one of the piping bags Vanitas had neatly laid out earlier and messily began to fill the bag with frosting.
“You’re getting frosting everywhere,” Vanitas snapped, then quietly hiccuped, and Sora bemoaned them getting along. For all that Riku and Vanitas were similar, at times it meant they could bump his head.
“Then you put it in the bag,” Riku snapped, shoving the bowl of frosting and spatula in Vanitas’ direction.
Vanitas shoved it back with more force. “Do it yourself!”
“I thought you said I was making a mess!” Riku slid it back by the base hard enough that it nearly shot past Vanitas.
Vanitas stopped it with a flat palm, glaring. “Maybe you’re going deaf but I said you’re getting it everywhere.” Sora could practically see his muscles tensing in his forearm as he shot the bowl back towards Riku.
Riku grabbed it before it could even properly reach him. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m actually helping you.” Sora very nearly rolled his eyes when Riku once again passed the bowl forward. Once Riku’s competitive streak got started, it’d never end. Hell, it’d been over a decade and he still had it out for Sora in any game possible, not that Sora didn’t do more than reciprocate.
And oh, did Vanitas hate to lose. “I don’t need your fucking help!” He grabbed the bowl, but Riku leaned forward on the counter with an elbow to hold the bowl too, ensuing in a struggle match of push-pull as they both tried to get the bowl away from themselves.
“Guys,” Sora began, warily eyeing the simultaneous pressure on the bowl slowly shimmying it upwards.
“I didn’t hear you saying that when Sora offered to teach you how to cook,” Riku bit out, and Vanitas hiccuped again in surprise. Sora winced, wishing Riku would spare even a glance towards Sora so he could tell him he was treading on a minefield. Vanitas may have had a forked tongue, but Riku’s knew how to cut deep, and his anger only sharpened it. Both of them were going to get carried away at this rate.
“Riku,” Sora tried.
“Wanna go there?” Vanitas asked with a dangerous note in his voice, golden eyes gleaming like the cat that got the canary. Even his grin was curling with feline satisfaction. He leaned closer, almost crooning into Riku’s face. “Sora could offer you anything and you wouldn’t say no.”
“Vanitas!” Sora said, aghast, but the damage was done. Riku’s face blushed bright red, and Vanitas simultaneously hiccuped, both of them jolting. The bowl popped free, and it was only because Vanitas had quicker reflexes that he jumped backwards.
Riku ended up with a faceful of frosting. A long moment of silence stretched between them as realization strung them altogether into one single, cohesive thought — and Sora lost it. Riku’s entire face was covered in the yellow frosting save his green stunned eyes. Even his hair was covered in it, and Sora set the glass of water down so hard some of it sloshed over the side, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Riku was quick to glare at him, swiping through the worst of it so it wasn’t entirely caked on his face. All it did was smear all along his arms, and Sora laughed harder. “It’s not funny, Sora!” Riku whined.
“It’s totally funny,” Sora giggled, moving bent over towards the sink to grab a rag with shaking hands. He wet it as he snickered, offering it to Riku. He snatched it and immediately set to wiping his face off, and then, for the second time today, a sound surprised Sora.
It was quiet giggling.
Holding his breath, both he and Riku looked up to find Vanitas hiding his mouth behind his hand, shoulders shaking. His fingers were stained in food coloring and had smears of frosting, and all around him the unversed were floating around, gradually turning a soft shade of gold as pink rose high in Vanitas’ cheeks.
It wasn’t his cackling or snickering or arrogant laugh — it was almost as if he was surprised himself, shy and new and unusual. Even his eyes were closing from it, but their silence caught his attention and he looked up at them, and for just a brief moment, Sora was struck by how young he could look when he laughed.
Biting his bottom lip between his teeth hard enough that Sora could see the color bleed out to white, Vanitas dropped his hand and his smile, cheeks darkening as realization caught up to him.
Riku busied himself with wiping off the rest of the frosting. He gave up and just headed to the sink to dunk his head under the faucet, and Sora took his stool instead. He reached out towards one of the unversed, their gold fading like a sunset into something faintly russet colored. Sora thought it matched Vanitas’ cheeks, but he wisely decided not to mention it.
The silence lasted for so long that Sora was the first to notice.
“Hey, your hiccups are gone!”
“I guess,” Riku said, standing straight, heedless of the water dripping from his wet hair down his cheeks and jawline. The unversed began to turn carnation-pink instead. “We are funny enough.”
Sora looked at Vanitas sideways and was unsurprised to find his lips pursed, determinedly looking away from them. Sora looked at the unversed, and then at Vanitas, and then before he could think twice about it, he asked, “So, what do you think of hiccups now?”
Vanitas met his gaze, licked his lips, and said, “I don’t hate them.”