It's unforgivable how long I've been away from this series, and I am so sorry. I can't even remember half the things I had planned for this, so…I'll have to rebuild it as I go on. I could blame In The Shadow Of Summer for this (and FT in general), but…that's just an excuse. I really should focus on all my readers, not just the ones reading my most popular story. Ugh, yeah, over a year later and I'm still new to this whole "popularity" thing…sorry.

Anyway. Here's chapter 8 after over a year. Hope you enjoy it.

Ch. 8: Sobering

Okay, I know that I'm new to this whole friendship thing—so call me out on my awkwardness, and I will find you and shove my cane down your throat.

All that aside, Ventus giving me that ultimatum was definitely a turning point for me. How often do you get lectures like that in real life? It's something that you'd only expect to see on sappy sitcoms or tragedy films, and if you do see (or hear) somebody shoving a friendship speech down a throat right in front of you, it's ridiculous enough to make you laugh your ass off at the person acting so hammy, 'cause seriously—have some dignity and man up; you're in the presence of this little thing called the fucking world, asshat.

And to be honest with you, that was my initial (and intended) reaction to Ventus' outburst. I won't lie—I did want to laugh at him for saying something so contrived and unrealistic, but…I don't know; his words stuck to me for some weird reason. It was the first time anybody had actually told me to screw my blindness and live life to its fullest. Jesus, not even my own grandpa ever gave me gripes like that before.

So as stupid as it seemed to be, I ended up being taken by what he said to me. And I let him have his way, because I sure as hell had no idea how to help myself get over this crippling self-esteem issue.

…Which turned out to be a horrible idea. Guys, take notes—this is what not to do when you let somebody help you through your problems. Do not, for the love of God (if one is actually out there), give that person free reign—because they will ruin things for you even more. What they think is best for you isn't what you think is best for you. I know that we could all be wrong about what's best for whom and we just end up leaving it up to fate or whatever, but seriously. Pull back on those reins and give them limits. You'll thank me later.

Not even a day after his speech, Ventus started dragging me out of the house routinely—which frankly confused me, because I thought he was basically hiding out away from his actual family—and had me walk. Everywhere.

I kid you not. He wouldn't flag down taxis or catch buses. He forced me to walk to places, and it was absolute murder on my feet and arms. I didn't even see the point of this stupid exercise—what was this; a training-from-hell attempt to get me out of my metaphorical anti-social shell?

The worst part? It was raining on the day of this particular outing.

…

Yeah, I'm not bullshitting you. It was fucking raining. Ventus was making me walk for miles and miles with icy cold water slapping into my back and face thanks to the wind. Oh, yeah; it was windy, too. I swear; if he ended up killing me trying to help me overcome my handicap, I was going to haunt him from beyond the grave and curse his life into being an even worse hell—especially since I'd finally be free of my whole blindness and migraine-in-the-cold issue in death.

Actually, wait. The rain wasn't the worst part of today. It's the whole I HAVE NO CLUE WHERE I AM induced by random and nonstop twists and turns practically every two minutes. I'd been walking to the point of getting completely disoriented in terms of direction, I was exhausted, I could barely think through the pounding in my skull, and we hadn't even taken a break for God knows how long.

Eventually, I got fed up with it all and snapped.

"Dude, what the hell even is the point of this exercise?!" I finally snapped after wrenching my hand free from his grip in indignation. "We haven't even stopped to talk to people or any of that; how the hell is this supposed to help me?! And where are we, anyway?"

An exasperated sigh and a resigned "I'm just getting you used to walking around a lot" was Ven's only response to my retort. Which hardly counted as an excuse in my book.

"Like I said," I said in exasperation, "how the hell is that supposed to help me, exactly?"

"Well, you're gonna be walking around a lot for what I've got in store for you," he said matter-of-factly. "The first step in getting you to get out of your anti-social shell is to get you out of the house, you know. That's exactly what I'm doing."

Yeah, and probably making us both look like total idiots while at it. I wouldn't have trusted you to help me out with this problem if I knew that this was the best idea you had, you moron.

And seriously, what do you know about social interaction that I don't already? You had about as much experience mingling with people as much as a snake does doing tricks on a unicycle. As in, none whatsoever.

…Somebody remind me why I agreed to this again.

"You're being a smartass again," Ven suddenly accused me, his voice indignant. "I can see it on your face."

"Oh, just perfect. Can you tell me what's on your face, then? You know, for sake of comparison and getting even for you invading my thoughts. I think that's only fair."

"Acting like a dick isn't in your best interests if you want to kick blindness in the ass, Vanitas."

"Last I checked, I didn't have an overt desire in trying to overcome this not-seeing business. You kind of strong-armed me into it."

"That's because you need it. Badly."

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Well, considering that you had to ask…"

I waved off his answer before he could finish. "Forget I even asked."

"Make up your mind already."

"Seriously, just shut up."

Ventus sighed again—this guy really should've been the one to coin the term smartass. "Okay, fine. Have it your way."

"Yeah, thanks. Take me home while you're at it, if you don't mind. It's freakin' cold, and my head's about to explode."

Ven sounded really put-off as he complained, "Actually, I do mind, but I've got this bad feeling you're gonna gore me with your cane if I say no."

"Great, we understand each other. Now quit dawdling and take me home."

"Yeah, yeah; whatever you say, Prince Stuffy."

I exhaled irritably. It was going to be a miracle if I didn't go to town on him before we reached our front porch.

I suddenly felt a buzz in my right pants pocket—it was my phone; someone (as in my old man; he's the only other phone number I had on its contacts list) was calling me.

I sighed irritably and—because I really wasn't in the mood to deal with him at the moment—fished the phone out of my pocket and held it out for Ventus to answer in my stead. "Here, you answer it."

Ventus sounded miffed as I felt the phone being lifted from my grasp. "Why're you giving this to me? Who's calling, anyway?"

Seriously, you moron; who else would be calling me? Only one other person in the world knew my phone number, and it just so happens that that person is my—oh, sorry; I mean our—annoying-as-all-hell grandfather.

"It's Gramps," I grumbled while holding back the overwhelming urge to knock him upside the head, brushing damp locks of my hair out of my face as we walked. "He's probably worried or something. How long have we been out today?"

"Uh…we left at around seven in the morning, and it's close to four now, according to your phone," Ventus answered, sounding somewhat distracted—he must be answering the phone now. "This thing is pretty outdated, by the way. Ah—hello? …Uh, no; this isn't Vanitas…"

I bit my lip before something slipped out of it that I would regret seconds afterward, letting Ven's phone conversation fade out into a drone in the background as I buried myself in my own thoughts. As much as someone annoys you to death, there are some things you just don't say to them. It's called tact, and—surprise, surprise—I actually do have some of that; thank you very much. I just…tend to forego it more often than not. All in the effort of projecting the aura of an asshole and all. It helps to keep people from bothering me.

All of a sudden, Ven paused so abruptly that it was a couple paces before I realized that I wasn't hearing any footsteps next to me (we'd been avoiding crowded places in our treks to reduce the chances of us getting separated). It was enough for me to be pulled out of my thoughts, so I made sure to stop right there in my tracks the moment that realization came so that I wouldn't end up wandering off into traffic or something like an idiot trying to find him.

"Ven?" I called out, feeling a bit nervous in spite of myself. "Hey, you still with me?"

No answer was forthcoming. Unease gripped my heart now—no, no, no; now was not the time for something like this to happen. Damn it; did I somehow manage to lose him? Or the other way around? I honestly would've welcomed this on a different occasion, but this silence was really freaking me out—it felt heavy, like something huge was about to drop on me.

I then suddenly felt Ven's strong hand snatch my right wrist and violently yank me forward, startling me and forcing out a stunned, "Whoa!" as I was dragged along.

I struggled to catch my balance as we sped down the sidewalk, Ven jerking my arm left and right at random intervals (maybe to keep me from running into people?). "Dude, slow down! Why'd you suddenly —?"

I was interrupted by a taut, "We need to get home" on his end. The way he sounded was kind of odd—it was almost like he was holding something back. His grip felt weird, too—it felt tense.

Now, normally I would ignore whatever remark he threw at me and gripe at him some more, but the tone of his voice made me back down in favor of a less biting response.

"Hey, is Gramps mad at us or something?" I opted to say instead. "Ven, talk to me; what's going on? What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything," Ven answered me tersely, still not slowing down. "And it wasn't him. It was someone else."

"Hold up; what?" He couldn't be serious. Gramps was the only person who ever called me on my phone. Who else could it have been? "Who? No one else knows my number! Nobody else could've called—!"

"Somebody else used his phone to call you."

Something like a vice clamped around my chest at his response. "…What? Who?"

Ventus didn't answer me right away this time—and if I'm being honest here, I barely even noticed that he was refusing to give me a forthright answer. I was too busy struggling to comprehend what Ven had just said to me—someone else had used my grandpa's phone to call me…and for what? Where was my grandpa if that was the case, anyway? Who could it have been to get Ven to act so weird (well, weirder than usual, at least)? Who else could he be associated with? If this ended up being all an elaborate practical joke…let's just say that getting jailed for life would be worth my response without a doubt and leave it at that because this was not funny. At all.

"It was the police," Ven finally replied in an unsteady voice, only worsening my paranoia because I'd never heard him sound like this before—not ever, from the moment I'd first met him until now. "Something—something's happened back at home."

Do you remember how I said a while ago that as much as I hate it, there are still times where I'm glad that I was born blind? What I was met with once Ven and I got home gave me the exact opposite feeling—that usual feeling I get about being born blind, and what I typically like to complain about…only a thousand times worse.

First of all, it was really noisy—tons of yammering voices, a bunch of blaring sirens, and constant bursts of radio static, which I recognized to be walkie-talkie feedback.

So Ven had been serious for a change—there really were police officers here. And it seemed like there was a crowd, too, and a pretty big one at that, since I was constantly getting pushed and jostled around as Ven pulled me through what felt like a sea of people.

My first reaction to this was, unsurprisingly, complete shock, 'cause hey—that's the typical response to being greeted by something like this.

Second was an odd sense of dread. I describe this feeling as "odd" because there wasn't much basis as to the reason I was feeling this way other than knowing that something bad had happened judging from the way Ventus had been talking earlier…which was also natural in a situation like this. It's normal to feel apprehensive when you know something bad happened to a family member, right?

Why did this feel so wrong, then? Why did every cell in my body scream at me to run as far away as I could from here? This feeling couldn't be normal; this wasn't something people in real life felt. This was too surreal to be real.

In spite of all the clamoring people around me, my skin felt strangely cold and clammy. By the time I was finally free of the stifling crowd, my clothes were so tightly plastered against my body thanks to the sweat that it felt like I'd just taken a bath in a huge vat of liquid glue before running here—and trust me; it felt extremely gross.

"Young man, no one is allowed on these premises at this time!" A middle-aged man's voice suddenly boomed somewhere right in front of us. "Stay behind the tape!"

A firm hand clamped on my shoulder and started to push me backward until Ventus finally spoke up and protested, "Wait a second, officer—I'm the one that just spoke with you over the phone, remember? I'm Ventus, and this is Vanitas—you called us here!"

Just like that, the hands lifted away—which was good, because this policeman's grip had been ridiculously strong. Man, and to think that I thought Ven had a strong grip.

"Well, you got here rather quickly." There was a grunt somewhere in front of us, though a bit farther away than before. "Normally, I wouldn't take minors into a crime scene, but…in any case, come along now."

There was a bit of a pause before Ventus tugged lightly on my arm and muttered, "C'mon, Vanitas. Let's go."

…Shit, I'd been frozen like a statue that entire time. I had to work to move my legs. It took me a bit of time, but I managed to start walking woodenly as I was pulled along, which was good—my thoughts were too busy racing around in my head for me to focus on something like walking at the moment.

What did that police officer say about a crime scene? What the hell had even happened? Why did I still want to run away from here so badly that I could hardly even breathe?

I could feel the terrain change beneath my feet—asphalt, lawn, asphalt again, wood, and finally carpet—we were inside the house now, and it was almost deafeningly quiet in here even in spite of all the noise going on outside. We kept on walking. It never seemed to end, but then we finally stopped some timeless minutes later.

But there were no words.

"Where's my grandpa?"

The words had left my mouth before I'd even realized it. They had sounded strange coming out of me—I sounded like a whimpering six-year-old asking for his parents. I might've been more unsettled by that fact if I weren't feeling completely numb right then. I still couldn't tell why, but I knew—my attitude had all but entirely drained away by this point. I couldn't find it in me to act or even feel snarky anymore. All I the feeling I had left was this overpowering desire to find my guardian that I couldn't explain to myself.

I heard Ven mumble my name beside me, but I hardly paid attention to it. My hands clenched into fists as I tried again.

"Where is he?" I repeated, more forcefully this time when no answer came, somehow yanking my hand out of Ven's grip. "Tell me where he is!"

The atmosphere was so heavy that somebody could have sliced through it with a knife. Still, nobody would answer me. There were voices, but they weren't giving me the answers that I wanted. It was meaningless noise.

My chest suddenly felt even tighter. My head started throbbing. My throat constricted without warning.

I couldn't breathe.

I cursed internally. Fuck, what was going on? What was happening to me? What was wrong with me?!

Right then, someone took my hand.

"…Get on your knees, son," the policeman said.

I didn't even bother questioning how ridiculous that command sounded as I did as I was told. He moved my hand to the left and rested it on a cloth, which felt oddly lumpy and uneven at first until—

My heart just about stopped as my other hand shot forward and I swiftly and vigorously ran my fingers over the entire length of the cloth without pause multiple times. My hands froze after about the third or fourth run, and the horrible truth lodged itself into my brain at that moment once I registered what my sense of touch was detecting.

It was most definitely a person underneath this cloth. This person was cold and completely stiff, which meant that this person was…

"Hey…" I could feel my fingers twitching over his face. "Hey, old man…this isn't funny at all, you know that? Get up…right now."

Everybody else was silent. I could feel Ventus trembling next to me, but I ignored him.

"Didn't you hear me…?" My hand tensed over his face. My head still throbbed. My throat still felt constricted. My words were breathless, and my voice was weak. "I told you…you got me…you got your laugh. This act is pissing me off, old man. Get up already…damn it…!"

At that point, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Somehow, I knew that this was Ventus and not the policeman that had brought us here.

"Vanitas…" His voice was hoarse. His grip nearly crushed my shoulder. "Knock it off. This isn't a joke."

I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. Every muscle in my body tensed. None of the pain would abate. I could still feel my tight chest, my throbbing head, my constricted throat. The pain was all still there, and it only increased by the second.

…No. No more. I couldn't. I wasn't ready for this. No part of me was ever ready for this.

That's why none of this could actually be happening. This was all a nightmare. I just had to wake up.

Somebody, please wake me up…!

I gripped my head and screamed as hard and long as my throat and lungs would let me.

Then my mind blanked out.

…Yes. This chapter is me reminding both you and myself that this is a tragedy. It's jarring, yes, but we both need this.

I think part of the reason why I took forever and then some on this update was probably because I subconsciously wanted to pad this story somehow and make it longer…even though I don't really need to. Why did I want that? I'm not too sure. Yeah, I…honestly can't say, really.

Seriously, though; I'm really, really sorry about making you all wait so long for this update. I have no excuses, just…I'm sorry. I'll be doing my best to stay on top of things from now on, since things have died down some since last update. I won't be making any promises on that, but I do promise to do my best.

Anyway, thank you so much for your infinite patience, everyone, and thank you so much for reading. I'll try to get the next update out in a timelier manner (or as timely as I can make it with five other stories to work on as well as school starting up again soon).

And I'm sorry if this chapter felt awkward in any way. I'm still trying to get used to Vanitas' voice again.