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squiishiichaos · 6 years

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The Right Way to Share a Paopu

Got a bit carried away by @novallion‘s Scala Headcanons and may or may not have written a little something...

Hope you enjoy! <3

Scala looked different this time. More serene, perhaps?

Roxas wasn’t sure, but there was something about the school this time that hadn’t been there the hundred other times he’d returned from a mission.

The distant bells that always sounded so eerie in the past rang gentle in his ears on each warm breeze that swept through the loose strands of his hair, and the normally nauseating scent of the inlet down the bank from him soothed his tense nerves like the refreshing taste of sea salt ice cream sweet on his tongue. With the sun still high enough in the sky to not yet pepper ominous reds and purples across the bruised horizon, it was quite possibly the first time he’d returned to the Islands without the blink of mocking red eyes to guide him. It was certainly the first time he’d made it more than ten seconds without a single contender finding him tip-toeing through these normally thriving fields, ready for yet another losing battle.

Maybe that’s it… He thought with a calm exhale. Completely alone in this tiny stretch of the world, Oblivion and Oathkeeper were—for once—safe and sound in the sheath of his heart. Content to just stay there so long as no threats divided his attention between the many wards thrumming painfully in his ears and the command of battle boiled into his blood. Without the pull of their contesting powers draining at his energy, he felt…alive.

Real.

A laugh managed its way through his lips for the first time since he left. Soft as the keychains chiming in the distant towers and bright as the afternoon sun. Another followed shortly after, then another—until he found himself unable to stop the chortles from stealing his breath with every teary-eyed inhale. Felt the tug of a cheek-burning smile split his lips with a cheer he didn’t know he had left.

Finally, he thought with a fist bunched tight over his pounding heart, I’m home…

Home. He tasted that word in his head again. Swirled it around and felt the warmth it crackled together in his chest. Let that sensation of belonging somewhere settle right next to the fluttering trickle of anxious energy that yearned to see everyone and everything. To put away the jingling set of keys hooked to his waist in the tower beside all the other Masters’ and no longer feel the burden of Oblivion and Oathkeeper weighing heavy on his mind. To no longer need the damned coat siting heavy on his shoulders or the resistances it offered.

In fact—he quickly slid the black gloves off his hands and shoved them into his pockets before undoing the zipper down his front and letting the heavy material slide off his shoulders with a solid thud. One heavy exhale departed his lips as he felt the humid breeze off the sea brush through the thin cotton of his black tank top. Over all the scars and bruises left from a life spent constantly at war, inside and out.

With a shiver, he accepted the cold of a coming evening with a fond gaze out over the polished white steeples of the school hovering off in the distance. Already, he could hear the excited holler of students finishing classes for the day amidst the crow of teachers barking homework and assignments over the growing chatter. Could see the flicker of keyblades flashing into existence only to sizzle away within the void of corridors back and forth between the various islands. The splash of potions and ethers cracking open over the sparring grounds where all the Apprentices kept hope alive in blasts of magic bright enough to shine like little worlds themselves.

Is Scala always this beautiful? Roxas wondered, taking a step closer to the teeming courtyards of the school. Had there always been so many flowers blossomed beneath his feet—painted in this many colors?

He couldn’t remember.

How couldn’t he remember?

The words—I’m sorry—sat heavy on the tip of his tongue with a bitterness that left all the warmth in his chest depleting against the chilling bite of the cooled winds. But he refused to say them—not this time. Not when they could actually mean something now. Something besides another heartless goodbye or worthless excuse.

Instead, he steeled himself with a deep breath and took a couple hesitant steps closer to the front gates of the Academy. They were some of the hardest battles he’d ever fought in his life. So much harder than the scores of Heartless he had mowed down just two nights ago in the desert sands of Agrabah. So much denser than the throng of Nobodies he’d spent two whole weeks clearing out of the darkest depths of Atlantis. A challenge he had spent so many days and nights running from that the very idea of looking at it now—facing it now—made him rethink his entire strategy of returning in the first place.

No more running away, he told himself with all the confidence he could muster. Folded it into his fists at his sides and kept trudging forward with all the strength he could gather.

He made it a sum total of three steps before his eyes betrayed him and focused, instead, on movement amongst the many tall flowers. Felt Oblivion threaten its way into his grips, and willed it away when he saw that familiar crest peak out at him from within blades of emerald green

A chuckle tugged a grin across his lips as the Flood—Shaded a bright magenta pink—practically vibrated with a nervous energy that had Roxas unable to stop a fond coo from departing his lips. It shook under his breath of acknowledgement, skittering a couple inches closer with the apprehensive blink of eyes filled with far more sadness than something so sweet and innocent should ever harbor.

From within the shadows of its tiny body, it drew forth a small brick of chocolate, holding it out in an offer that set Roxas’s heart galloping.

Another coo fell from his lips as the Blonde shrunk down into a crouch and accepted the offered treat in one hand before lifting the creature gently in his other. He carelessly threw the offering into his mouth and nearly melted where he stood. As it was, it took all his strength not to puddle into his weak knees at the rich flavor that coasted over his tongue, accented at the very end by the dust of just the right amount of salt and hint of sugar to have warmth flooding through him with twice the strength it had just moments before.

Of course it’d be my favorite flavor, he thought with a heavenly sigh, unable to keep his fingers from petting over the flood in affection. It purred up at him, sinking into his palm as he scratched beneath its chin with a light chuckle. Filled with a breath of confidence, he brought the little creature up to his lips and pressed a light kiss to its forehead with a slight nuzzle of admiration.

The Flood softened to a rose pink—a color and emotion that even Roxas couldn’t quite identify, but it made him somehow even more flattered than the chocolate. “Did you miss me, Uno? I certainly missed you.”

Uno blinked up at him silently, still vibrating like an unsteady heart. It gave the subtlest nod of its head, but it was more than enough for Roxas’s heart to bleed out to the small creature. “Well, you won’t have to miss me anymore, okay? I think…” A laugh exhaled from his nose as he dropped his voice into a loving whisper, “I think I’m here to stay this time.”

Roxas laughed aloud as the little creature darted out of his palm and landed with a scratch of claws on his chest. Another giggle and a chuckled hey fell off his tongue while it scurried up his torso and whipped around his shoulder. A coo wrestled itself out of him when the little Flood nuzzled its whole weight against his cheek before slipping under his chin and settling against his other ear with another light and quiet purr.

Roxas gently stroked his fingers over its curled shadows as he continued, “and I have a little something to commemorate my return, but I need your help again. Think you can do me this one little favor?” The Flood didn’t even hesitate to nod. God, it made his heart ache. “Alright well, I still have this,” he reminded it, reaching into his pants pocket and retrieving a familiar pastry box. Opening the lid for the first time in weeks, he relished in the scent of bitter sweet fruit that filtered up from the delicate treat folded together in his hands.

Taking a corner of the tart, he broke off a piece of the golden dessert and offered it to Uno with a grin. “Here, bring this piece to Sora and then bring a few of your pals back to me, okay?” The Flood sniffed at the piece for one quick second before blinking at him and disappearing in a void from his shoulder.

Once more alone in his little corner of the world, Roxas began to rip off pieces of the Paopu tart for each of his remaining friends. He set aside three for Xion, Lea and Isa; another three for Aqua, Terra, and Ventus, and then two more for Kairi and Namine. He begrudgingly tore off a small chunk for Riku and placed it into a far corner by itself.

After separating each of the remaining bites to another section of the small case, he was left with only one larger—untouched—chunk to divide.

Just as he began to work out how to break it up, Uno returned to his shoulder in another cold void of swirling energy. Behind it, several red eyes blinked to life in the several magenta shaded Unversed that made his arms their new perch. He offered each and every one a smile before gesturing to the box in his hand with a flick of his finger against its side.

“Alright, guys! I need each of you to take one of these pieces to my remaining friends! They better get to them, too, okay? No eating them along the way! Promise?” He placed a finger to Uno’s nose and chuckled when it gently pressed its forehead back in acceptance of his terms.

But before it could void off to find any more of his friends, Roxas stopped it with a light scratch at its chin. It gently nuzzled into his cheek as he whispered, “I need you to do me one more favor, Uno. There’s someone else who needs a taste of this. I bet you can guess who, right?” With another tap to its nose, the Flood shaded that unfamiliar rose pink and gave a hearty nod of its head before scurrying off his arm and dashing down to the ground. Roxas screamed after it, “bring him back to me, Uno! I believe in you!”

When he looked back at the final chunk of paopu tart that remained, he decided with a sigh, guess I’ll just have to split it once he gets here…if he does. Despite the somber note of loneliness that always came when the Unversed left him—by choice or not—he couldn’t help another light chuckle.

Finally, he thought, I’m actually…home…

~0~0~0~0~0~

“What?!” Vanitas barked at the little rose shaded Flood practically dragging him to his hill. “What is the hurry? Where are you taking me? Why are you that fucking color?!”

Needless to say, Vanitas was…

Confused. Confused was a good word.

Imagine his surprise when the little abomination leading him along to his favorite hill ported into his bakery right in the middle of whipping together a mean batch of Red Island specials and all but ushered him out of his sanctum with all the strength its tiny body could muster. It was bad enough he couldn’t fucking identify why the little shit was currently the sad color of Aqua’s favorite high-end Rosé, but nothing topped being out in these student infested grounds without actually knowing why he was even here.

And the little shit was not helping to clear up any of these annoying mysteries. “Are you ever going to tell me why you dragged me away from a perfectly good batch of cookies?”

“Hey, be nice to your Unversed!” Vanitas stopped mid-step and groaned into the evening air.

Of course. Of fucking course that’s why he was dragged here. Why else would one of his own minions escort him across the grounds if it wasn’t for the one—the only—Roxas? How hadn’t he sniffed this plot out from half a mile away?

He was getting soft—that was the only explanation, unless Blondie here had a better one to light up his fucking day. “Whatever. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Watching the sunset—what else?” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Granted, there really was no better area to watch the sunset than this spot right here. Standing at the edge of the sea—right where Roxas had his toes inching dangerously close to the incoming waves—was the only place in Scala one could appreciate the true depths the sun plunged into the world below theirs. Where a person could simultaneously feel high-tide inching up the bank, as if displaced by the golden light shimmering off blocks of white stone miles below, and also enjoy the first rays of silver moonlight from behind clouds of indigo and violet. It was also the only place dark enough out in this lamp of perpetual light that offered a venue to stare into glowing crimson eyes and beyond to the many glittering worlds hiding behind the shining wards of the Castle.

It was…a sight, surely, but that was never what Roxas came for. Not his—

He caught himself with a sharp glare at the traitor now buried in Roxas’s lap. He still wasn’t sure what that color was—what it meant—but it was starting to irk him. He could feel the itch to destroy something bubbling up in his veins; could feel his annoyance blossoming as yet another—less friendly—Unversed somewhere on the school grounds. Felt the electricity of his strength flaring into a big enough force he could get the fuck out of whatever this was before he was tamed by whatever fucking spell had his minions curled up to the goddamn Traveler like a motherfucking cat.

But the more of it that trickled out, the more obvious his tension became, and the harder it was to hide. To just jump into the many shadowed corners of the School and disappear. Especially now, when those cerulean blue eyes looked like a tsunami just waiting to come crashing onto his golden shores. Contrasted by the coming dark of night, they were somehow still so remarkably blue that he wondered—not for the first time—how anyone could fear the darkness with such a sharp sword on their side.

Yet, even with all that light reflecting back at him, the echoes of a storm ricocheted in the glare the Blonde shot him. It was so familiar in so many fucking ways, but it was also unique in a way Ventus’s and Sora’s never were. It carried a weight in it that was more feral, than anything. An instinct that went for the throat and didn’t let go until his target was silenced once and for all. Even now, when there was no one around to protect. No heartless to fight. No nobodies to kill.

It was just the two of them—and honestly?

Vanitas was scared.

He couldn’t stay here any longer.

He needed to go.

To leave.

To find a nice, lonely little hole where he could sit and just—“Vanitas, wait!”

He jerked back before Roxas could even touch him, stumbling back a few steps in blind fury. Harsh words settled at the tip of his tongue, but he made the mistake of looking up. Of peering into wide sapphire pools and seeing the fear and longing that reflected there. The regret. It reminded him of so many times before. All the times before.

Of nights lying on this very spot—together—in the quiet of a somber night. Sharing scars and emotional battles while watching distant worlds blink in and out of sight with every dragging hour that passed. Of being so close he could smell the sweetness of sugary syrup lingering on Roxas’s lips atop the metallic aftertaste of blood long since shed. Of being so distant even warmth could hardly travel between them, even when they were pressed side by side.

Recalled so many sleepless nights watching the exhausted Blonde fight sleep for his sake, only to lose the fight with his head balanced precariously on his shoulder, arms bunched between them and huddled in that goddamn coat. So many early mornings that came before the sun could dare rise and peppered by the furious rush to regain lost space before anyone could admit how far they had come. Could see that maybe—just maybe—between the two of them, someone might actually have a heart.

That was ridiculous, of course. In this bright sea of Somebodies, they were both Nobodies. Shadows of original, carbon copies who would always be more—do more—than either of them ever could.

The difference was that Vanitas had accepted that. Why couldn’t Roxas?

“This is pointless,” he growled out, meeting that steady gaze with a narrowed leer. “I’m going back—”

“No, Vanitas, please—”

“What?!” He barked, edging up on the Blonde until hardly an inch remained between them. Close enough that he had to look down his nose to accommodate the couple inches he’d grown on the Blonde these past few years. Even with that advantage, Roxas still met his muddied glare without a flake of hesitation. “What possible reason could you have to want me around?!”

“Plenty! Do you want me to list them?”

“Do you have a list?”

Roxas nodded with that same flaming confidence. “I do, actually. Do you wanna know what it starts with?”

“No.”

“Because you’re the only one who never tried to stop me. Do you wanna know the second reason?”

“I already told you—”

“Because you were the only one who waited for me.” Vanitas’s glare darkened.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!”

“Is it?” The heat had left his voice, leaving a weak shudder in its wake. “Is it?” His voice cracked with a desperation that had Vanitas reeling back from him in a mix of apprehension and speechless anger. “Then, where are the rest of them? Huh?! Where are they?!”

“Roxas, what are you—”

“Do you remember this?” The Blonde reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar brown box from its depths. It looked innocent enough, but he didn’t need the top opened to already know what special secret lay hidden within. But Roxas still opened it up and showed him the broken-up contents with a heavy frown.

Vanitas felt his chest seize. A mix of jealousy and regret pooled in the barren depths of his torso, beating at his ribcage with enough force to almost make him think he might actually have a heart in there. Seeing such a small piece remaining from the much larger tart he’d originally given the Blonde carved a scar far too deep for his already shattered emotions to take.

But there was no retribution hiding in those big blue eyes. Just wave after wave of pooling sadness. “I gave a piece of my heart away to all of my closest friends,” he told him while daring a step closer, “but not a single one of them is here, except you.”

“And what?” His voice was surprisingly soft—almost neutral—despite the turmoil building in his chest. “Why does it even matter?”

“Because I want to share the final—largest—piece with you.” His breath hitched and eyes widened. With…me?

He swallowed the knot in his throat and steeled his eyes into another piercing glare. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“Fuck no—Roxas…” He cut himself off with a moan, turning away from those fucking blue pools so he could think straight for a minute. Darkness be damned, how did one deal with this?

You know what you want to do.

Of course, he did, but it couldn’t be that easy. It was never that easy.

Instead, he fell back on the basics. “Is this because you’re leaving for good this time? Because I will not—”

“No, Vanitas, I’m here to stay.”

“—be blamed for letting you…what?” That made him turn. Had gold falling on darkened blue with a disbelief that had him reaching out to touch what he was now sure was a fantasy. But no—it was real. He felt the radiance that came off the man before him—knew it better than any other energy on this damn island. “You’re what?”

“I’m back,” Roxas told him, daring to inch back into his space. Close enough Vanitas could feel his breath warm against his skin. “I’m home.”

“And this—” Vanitas asked with a flick to the box still seated in his hand, “—is how you tell me?”

“What? Upset I’d give your gift back to you?” No, I’m upset I wasn’t first on your list.

“I’m not gonna eat something that’s probably already spoiled sour.” Roxas’s lips split with a smile despite his jeer.

“What, afraid of trying your own baked goods, tough guy?”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “Of course not!”

“Then, why not? Is it because it’s me?” Something about the look in those eyes—the lingering trace of doubt—softened the tight grip he had on his words.

He admitted, “yes,” and watched that bright smile immediately droop, but he saw Roxas work hard to keep it from turning into a frown.

Even still, he saw how painful it looked to swallow the knot in his throat to get his next question out. “Do you…wish it was someone else…?”

“No.” The word was bit out from between clenched teeth and said with a tightness that did nothing for the seeds of doubt sewn deep into that fragile gaze. His fists curled painfully at his side, cutting crescents into his palm for blood to trickle slowly out of.

For once, he doesn’t know what to say. He always knows what to say. Why is this somehow different?

He doesn’t know, but it only makes him angrier. “Look—”

“No, it’s okay.” It hurts. It hurts. It fucking hurts—that sound. That voice. You did that to him, he heard his inner demons croak with glee. You’re the reason he’s a dam seconds away from overflowing. “I understand, Vanitas. Thanks, for meeting me here...”

He made the mistake of looking up again. Of plunging into sapphire pools without any spells left to keep breath in his lungs or carry his prone body back to the surface. Without any harness to keep him afloat, he could do nothing but drown in the hope that remained bright within the navy stroke of night shadowing normally cerulean depths. Felt it pulling him deeper and deeper into the pain and suffering he saw etched there in every scar they’d given each other over the years. Toward the wealth of regrets both of them have teetered on since the first time they opened that door and decided two shadows could be the ones who held the fort in the eclipse of darkness.

Vanitas licked his lips and let a sigh out through his nose. Felt the electricity at his fingers diminish just enough that he could touch the Blonde’s skin without scorching flesh. Roxas let him—trusted him—with a frown. But no matter how hard he tried, the words wouldn’t come.

So, he let go and sucked back in a breath with a glance at the lit body of the inlet. “Guess that’s it, then, right?” When he heard no reply, he gave an uncaring shrug and turned around on a heel. “Well, good—”

“You know what? Fuck this.” Vanitas had barely processed the words before a strong hand was on his shoulder and turning him back to glaring oceans of determination. He opened his mouth to question him—maybe tell him to watch his language—but then choked—literally—on the piece of paopu tart Roxas pressed into his mouth.

Vanitas’s eyes bulged open as the Blonde threw his arms up in victory and barked a laugh of triumph. A startled moan was swallowed up as the saccharine taste of paopu mixed with the salty sweet bitterness of pastry dough, filling that empty spot in his chest with a warmth he’d never felt before. It had a smile threatening at his lips for the first time in years, refusing to leave even as he fought to brush it off with a roll of his eyes. It was made further impossible when he watched Roxas share the most pitiful high-five with the rose-pink Unversed before coming back to him like a puppy back to its master.

The Blonde made the mistake of showing him the last little sliver of Paopu that remained stark against the dark cardboard, just waiting for the trouble Vanitas had in mind for it. His lips split into an impish grin as he sneered up at Roxas and calmly folded his arms across his chest.

“You know, can’t say I like it. I think that’s the last one I’ll ever make.” The Blonde Keyblader pouted—actually pouted—with a light jab to his arm.

“You asshole, you know you’re gonna have to make more, right? I already shared a piece of it with Sora and you know he’s gonna—”

“Hey, Roxas.”

“—Be begging you to…” Cerulean blinked up to mischievous gold with a confused furrow. “Wha—” Flashing forward, an afterimage remained where he once stood, a benign-enough shadow smirking in triumph. It was enough of a distraction for Roxas to gape and frantically look up to try and find his real body.

From behind him, Vanitas grabbed at his shoulder and turned the Blonde with a jerk, earning himself a startled hey—before he shoved the final piece of tart between his lips and toward the back of his throat.

He barked his own laugh of triumph whilst Roxas coughed and hacked on the pastry. His Unversed shot him a harsh glare as it scrambled over and lightly patted the Blonde on his foot. The Blonde held up a hand to reassure it and gulped down the rest of his gift with a forced swallow.

Letting out a heavy breath, he glared up at Vanitas from his stance doubled over and panting. “Seriously?! That is not how you share a paopu fruit, you asshat!”

“What? You’re the expert now?”

“Well, yeah!” Roxas challenged, though there was no fire behind his words. “I’ve had to listen to Sora moan and groan about the legend for literal years now!”

“And he’s definitely the leading authority on all things mythological.”

“Really? Really?! Is sarcasm the only response you can muster after almost killing me?!”

Vanitas grinned with a shrug. “That’s what you get.”

“For wanting to be friends with you?!” Roxas stifled a chuckle and worked hard to keep a grin off his lips. “Is it too late to take that tart back?”

“Only if you want it as an Unversed.” The Blonde actually thought about that for one long moment before narrowing a glare on him and releasing a breath through his nose.

“As…tempting as that sounds…friends is better.”

“Friends is—”

“ROXAS!!!” Vanitas took a knowing step back as blue eyes widened in horror. A dark snicker fell off his lips just a second before Sora crashed into Roxas with a wide smile, tackling him to the ground.

Vanitas watched with a truly impish grin as Roxas struggled to pry the brunet off while fending off cuddles from his other.

Making a scene of ignoring that cerulean plea for help, he couldn’t help a light chuckle. Friends…I think I can live with that.

#scala #roxas #vanitas #paopu fruit #just two shadows #being shadows #novallion

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