AUTOPLAY

“S-sorry… .” He still held on, though, just for a while. “I just… dreamed I was back there again, and…. .” He swallowed, shaking his head. Slowly, he let go of Xehanort, looking down at the blanket. It hadn’t gotten any better… .

“The doctor said this could happen.” He murmured, arms awkwardly at his sides as if he was debating hugging Vanitas back. But before he could do such a silly, self indulgant, thing, Vanitas pulled away, shaking his head. “He said it was likely, even. You shouldn’t apologize.”

He stood up, going into the bathroom adajcent to his bedroom, fumbling through the cabinent there. The doctor had given him some sort of medicine, to help with dreamless sleep...

Vanitas wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but he couldn’t, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. How long had he been here? Maybe… maybe Xehanort wasn’t coming, Maybe he was right… what reason did Xehanort have to give up his life for his, after all?

With a cruel laugh, he felt Xemnas’ fingers close around his throat. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even call for help, and even if he could there was no one to hear him. Xehanort wasn’t coming, no one knew where he was, Xemnas was going to kill him, he couldn’t breathe–

“Vanitas. You’re having a nightmare.” A nightmare involving me, he realized. It made him feel guilty all over again--this had been almost entirely his fault. Of course, Xemnas was primarily to blame, but if Xehanort had never talked to Vanitas, never brought him here, never blackmailed him, it would never have happened. So he was at least somewhat to blame.

“Alright. I guess I could use some rest myself… .” He sighed, closing his eyes, still holding Xehanort gently. Even with him upset like this… the fact that he wasn’t leaving was comforting, and having him this close, feeling his fingers in his hair, was even more so.

He did his best to relax, even though really he had every reason not to. Even though Xehanort wasn’t acting angry or anything, he was clearly still upset in some way. Vanitas just didn’t know why… or what he could do to help. He couldn’t take back his confession, after all… .

This wasn’t right… those words were supposed to make a person happy, right? Just so long as the feeling was mutual… .

… Could that be it? Did Xehanort just not… ?

He shuddered, instinctively holding Xehanort a little more tightly. He didn’t… didn’t know what he’d do if that was the case… .

It’s horribly selfish of him, but really he had always been selfish. It made sense that he would be here, too. Despite the fact that he can’t make himself say the words out loud, he has to consider; does he love Vanitas?

Genuinely speaking to himself, he’s not sure. Maybe that’s part of the reason he hesitates to speak up and confess himself. He certainly cares about Vanitas a great deal, wants to make him happy and feel safe, wants to hold him close and make his future a better one, but...it just doesn’t seem fair to love Vanitas. To give him that, only to eventually disappear, go back to his own time and abandon him forever? That wasn’t something he could control...

“So… do you know where we need to go?” He recognized the world - Twilight Town - but he wasn’t too familiar with the layout. His missions very rarely brought him to populated areas.

“Yes. I’ve been here a few times on missions.” He explains, pulling Vanitas through the slightly desolate streets. It isn’t until they get to the town center that they see other people. But most of them are too preoccupied to really take much notice of them. He finds the clothing store, which thankfully isn’t too busy, and pulls Vanitas inside.

It played into his dreams, too. He was warm and safe… nothing could touch him. Xehanort would make sure of that. He knew… .

But as Xehanort moved away, his dream took a turn for the worse. The warmth was gone, leaving cold and dark loneliness. He whimpered softly, curling up tightly. No, no… he couldn’t, he’d end up back there, in that room, that voice mocking him, always, he just couldn’t –

Writing about his own brother’s death is strange, surreal, but he tries to distance himself from it, tries to forget what’s happened, Tries to pretend it didn’t happen at all.

Vanitas killing someone...he didn’t deserve that. Oh, Xemnas certainly deserved it, there couldn’t be any doubt about that. But killing at such a young age, even if it was in defense...

It’s his fault, he mockingly reminds himself. If he’d never met Vanitas, never gotten him wrapped up in this...

He supposes those  thoughts are getting old. After all, what can he do about them? He could release Vanitas from debt, so to speak. It’s not out of the question at this point, he has ample reason too. And yet the thought of never seeing Vanitas again,make his chest ache in a way it hadn’t for years and years. Not since...he died.

“Are you sure? That that’s a good idea, I mean?” It seemed risky… and Xehanort was always getting him things. Small things, usually, but still. He didn’t really know how much clothes cost, but it just felt weird to having him getting him things all the time.

Besides, nobody stopped his lover from having nicer clothes. Though, really, perhaps that sentiment was more a result of Xehanort believing that nobody stopped him from doing what he wanted. 

He relaxed only slightly as Xehanort sat down and leaned against him. He knew Xehanort liked to listen to the sound of his heart, but Vanitas was still somewhat self-conscious about it. The irregular pulse that just served to remind him of what he was… .

And yet… Xehanort liked to listen to it, so he let him.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around Xehanort, holding him close. He didn’t know what was going through his head, right now… but he wanted to keep him close. Wanted him to know that he did care about him. The confession hadn’t been a lie… he loved him. Cared about him. He didn’t think that, in that moment, he could have lied to him if he tried… .

They only had a few more months, half a year at most, together. Then, Xehanort would have to leave, go back home, forget all of this. He had thought it wouldn’t hurt that bad--after all, this was part of fate, and he had always gone along with fate in blind trust. But now...

Now the idea of leaving Vanitas forever seemed irreparably painful.

He slid his fingers up his back, just barely playing with the longer strands of hair at the back of Vanitas’s head. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He should say that he loved him too, shouldn’t he? But that seemed...it seemed terrifying, with the way harsh and cruel reality was crashing down on him again and again, even though he was almost numb to it.

“I can’t say I have a relative named Xemnas I’m aware of.” He lied smoothly. He’d told that lie quite a few times; his appearance was rather obvious, after all. Fancy acting, naturally spoken words, though, they usually threw people off. Still, why would one of his students mention Xemnas? Could it be a coincidence?

“I’m glad for this change in persona, Roxas. However, if something is bothering you and you feel the need to throw yourself into work as a distraction, you may tell me. I am your teacher.” He had done the same thing, many times.

     “You’re my teacher,” he said. “You spent a good ten minutes talking about your qualifications. You’re not a stranger.” Granted, he might be a stranger to the teacher. “And that’s not what I meant. I mean, how long have you been in New York? Why are you teaching here now?” Why was he teaching Roxas’s class?

Still, though, the laughter died in the pit of his stomach as the other continued, looking at him with suspicious eyes.

Why was he so suspicious? He couldn’t know who he was--no, he was assured to be safe and anonymous here. So what...?

“I’ve been here a couple of years. And I owed a few favours, as it happens.” He shrugged his bag full of reports onto his shoulder, trying not to look too suspiciously at the other. “That’s something that frequently happens in journalism, I’m afraid. You start to owe quite a few people quite a few things.”

He’d noticed that Roxas was usually a troubled boy, or so it seemed. He wasn’t sure if it was apathy or boredom, but the other seemed...dazed wasn’t the right word, but it was the best he could think of. So much for being a state-wide journalist...

He took the offered flask and meat, turning the food over carefully, wrinkling his nose. It was unbelievably dry… but, if it was all they had… .

He bit into it, chewing it carefully. Xehanort was right, it was nowhere near as good as what he was used to. What he’d give to be back at the ball now… .

He looked up at Xeha as he ate, frowning. He just didn’t understand him at all… why would a thief save him?

“Well, I’m going to try and get you to a loyal lord of yours so you can retake your castle, of course. It’s all very thrilling, like  a story from a children’s book, wouldn’t you say?” After drinking a quick gulp of water, he continued, “of course, after that’s all said I done I suppose I’ll have to find another city to reside in. What a shame...I rather like Paris.”

Vanitas sighed softly. “Well, under any other circumstances I’d have you arrested immediately, but now… well, you did save my life. I suppose I owe you something for that.” That, and currently they were in the middle of nowhere, and this Xeha was the only one he could even possibly consider to be on his side… .

He sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest. This was all just… so much to take in. He never thought that something like this could happen… .

“Permit me to say, my prince, that if you tried to arrest me I would be gone within minutes. People have tried and failed before. I’m very elusive, you see.” He spoke slyly, standing up and walking over to his horse. Vanitas was still clutching that cloak so tightly...

He got some food rations out of the satchel, some dried meat, likely not good enough for a prince. But it would have to do. He had a flask of water too, and he handed both to the other.

He let Xeha pull him from the horse, sitting down as he started to build a fire. This was just… it felt like a nightmare, and he’d wake up at any second… .

It took him several moments to respond to Xeha’s question. “… Normally I’d say my uncle, but that… I guess that’s not an option right now… .” If he really had organized this… take over, going to him would be the worst idea possible. He sighed. “If he really is behind this… I don’t know. He had a lot of supporters… .” He couldn’t know who to trust now… or even who was alive. There had been a lot of nobles at the ball… would they have tried to take them all out?

He’d figure out a loyalist house or lord, he decided. He could always pay someone for the information, or listen in at a bar to hear who was being targeted most after the takeover...There were a number of ways he could deal with the situation.

Glancing up, he couldn’t help but laugh slightly, perhaps to add a little levity. It was such an innocent question. He wondered how much the other had heard about him--he was very infamous, stealing trinkets from the uptight nobles and leaving roses.

Vanitas barely registered as Xeha lifted him over the corpses, still staring in horror. He wasn’t able to look away until Xehanort wrapped the cloak around him, the hood partially obscuring his view. Instinctively, Vanitas clutched it more tightly around himself, slowly shaking his head. He let Xeha lift him up, stiffly clambering onto the horse, and then clutching the pommel in one hand as Xeha climbed up behind him and urged the horse into a gallop.

It was… too much. Now that the horse was doing the running, his brain actually had a chance to try and make sense of what had just happened. What had the other man… what had he said? He’d called Xeha… called him the Phantom Thief. But he couldn’t actually be… even Vanitas had heard that name before, the infamous thief who had made off with so many noble’s riches, leaving a single rose behind. He supposed it made sense for someone like that to target the castle, but then why would he save him?

And then, the man had said they were taking over… something about his uncle? It didn’t make much sense, but if they’d targeted him, they’d also go after… .

“We can’t go back, my prince.” He said smoothly, pushing Hope forward as he galloped off into the night. They had to get as far as they could. “If we go back, it is likely you are a dead man. If it is your brother you are worried about, I don’t think he will be killed. He will probably be held hostage, since he is the heir, to have a facet of legitimacy.” His father on the other hand...Xehanort wasn’t sure about that. You couldn’t have a coup d'etat without killing the king.

He opted not to mention this.

Despite the boy’s protests, Xeha.kept riding until Hope was exhausted. Clicking his tongue derisively, He stepped off the horse, lifting Vanitas off.

Even before he could make sense of it all, he was being pulled into the air. He gave a startled yelp, dropping the mask that had been in his hand as they sailed out the window, instinctively clutching at the stranger - Xeha? Was that his name? The other man had called him that, and it was better than nothing.

He turned to face him, the moment they were on the ground again, a dozen questions on his tongue, but he had enough sense to save them for later. That other man had clearly been an assassin, and though he’d called Xeha a thief… well, he had just saved his life. He deserved a tiny bit of trust for that.

“This way.” He turned sharply, running toward the back of the grounds, not looking behind him to see if the thief was following. There was the servant’s entrance there, a way in - or out, as it were - that few people knew about. If they could get there, they could get off the grounds… .

“How inelegant.” He scoffed, disgust in his voice. He lifted up the prince so his feet didn’t touch any of the blood, setting him down on the clean grass. He hesitated, then pulled a rapier and sheath from one of the dead men, hoisting it around his hips. Raising his fingers for a moment, he gave a short, but loud, three note whistle.

In just a few minutes, his stallion galloped around from the back, sniffing at him generously. Xeha took one look at Vanitas, then stripped off his own cloak, wrapping it around Vanitas and pulling the hood over his head.

He looked back at the stranger, his annoyed expression being replaced with a slight grin. “Is it that obvious? I find such events to be stifling. I suppose I should be thanking you for giving me a reason to leave.

“But, no. I don’t have much inclination to sleep with you, since you ask.” The only reason he hadn’t told him to leave already was that someone would notice if the stranger left right away. Vanitas planned to simply let him stay for a while and then send him on his way. Maybe he deserved a small something for his trouble, but they would have to see how things went.

He glanced around, again noting the quiet. But, his sharpened ears managed to pick up something else, and a brief frown flickered over his face. Was that...sword fighting?

And a moment later--there was a whoosh as a dagger went through the air. Aiming for Vanitas. Moving faster than the dagger, then pushed the prince against the wall, shielding him with his cape, glancing up with hardened amber eyes.

“Well, well, well. Should have known I’d find you here, Xeha.” His old acquaintance gave a lopsided grin. Xeha tilted his head back, curious to see what the old freeshooter would say. Braig would never be one to do something for others...great.

“You never could resist the allure of treasure, could you? Guess that is how you became the Phantom Thief of The Night.” He laughed then, “quite a lofty title they gave you, eh? So you got your eye on anything tonight?”

“I was planning on stealing the prince’s heart, as it happens.” He spoke with airy confidence. “The same heart you were just trying to pierce with a dagger. I’m afraid I don’t quite approve.”

Another laugh. “One thing? C’mon, you’d never settle for just one thing, even if it is a prince in your bed.”

He could hear more fighting now, and shouting, distinctly. He frowned, still keeping Vanitas close. 

“Perhaps I wanted a few other things. Yet even if I am the thief this city despises me for, I stop at murder, however. What’s going on? You owe your old friend that.”

“We’re takin’ over the city. Of France, even. One of this kid’s uncles hired us to wipe out the royal family. You know, I’m sure he’d let you in with us if I put in a good word. You do have quite the reputation.”

He hummed, acting as though he was considering it, then pulled back. “I think not. That wouldn’t be very gallant, would it?” Before the other could react, he tossed a ball of smoke to the ground, watching as it burst into smoke that covered half the hallway. Quick as a fox, he tossed another through the window, hearing it shatter. Good enough.

“Up we go, little prince.” Braig was shooting daggers through the air, and Vanitas seemed dazed. He lifted him up into his arms, vaulting out the broken window. They were only on the second floor, and Xeha was able to stop the brunt of the fall with his cape. Sighing as he set the other down, he glanced around.