My Sanctuary (Vanitas x reader)

Chapter IV: Strength of Heart

A/n: Eyyyy I'm back! Spoiler alert: your dive to the heart and your keyblade are here! I know that I made the description on both very generic and limited, but that's so you can imagine how your own Keyblade and Dive look. Basically, only the information necessary to the story is there. Anyway, I did leave some sample images at the end of the chapter in case you need inspiration. However, if you already have your own design for your Keyblade or dive to the heart, I'd love to hear about it in the comments! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't worry, the actual relationship with Vanitas is beginning in the next chapter! (So much exposition, I know)

Key:

(Y/n)=your name

(h/c)=hair color

(f/c)=favorite color

(f/a)=favorite animal

(e/c)=eye color

(Y/n) POV

Days turned to weeks and weeks into months as (Y/n) trained with Master Xehanort. By now, about two months had passed since (Y/n) had shown up in the World of Arrival. The girl slowly but steadily became acclimated to the strange, desolate world, and in that time it began to feel more and more like a home. Her power grew too and she slowly emerged from her shell of shyness. Even as she adjusted, she remained generally unsocial, though that was mostly due to the fact that there were only two other people in this world: Master Xehanort and Vanitas. The first kept to himself while the latter seemed to actively be avoiding her.

In fact, (Y/n) really only saw Vanitas during their training sessions, where he would snort, scoff, and offer snide remarks under his breath, which were almost always directed at her clumsiness and lack of finesse. (Y/n) tried to ignore the fellow apprentice, and truthfully, she didn't blame him for his hostility. He had been here far longer than she had. He probably felt like she was replacing him or something, even though she was miles behind him in skill. With this in mind, the girl had never tried to bother Vanitas more than necessary. She hadn't ever had a real conversation with him. Actually, she hadn't spoken a word to him since they met on her first day. (Y/n) was admittedly terrified of pushing his buttons, as he was rather intimidating.

Like she did everyday, (Y/n) made her way down the empty halls to Xehanort's throne room for training. Her footsteps were the only sound as they echoed off the stone walls. It was lonely, but that wasn't much of a bother. Today, in fact, it was a relief. Today she had been summoned to the throne chamber where she trained earlier than usual. Admittedly, there was a slight foreboding anxiety and anticipation brewing beneath the surface. Had she done something wrong? Was Master Xehanort displeased with her progress? The girl sighed aloud.

Master Xehanort was a strict and ruthless teacher, not to mention impossible to please. He pushed her, both physically and mentally, to achieve higher and higher. His harsh words and expectations never wavered, as he was never appeased either. He never seemed satisfied with less than her absolute one-hundred percent, which often resulted in (Y/n) working extra hard with little morale during her training. Every session ended with her arms covered in scrapes and bruises and the rest of her body coated in sweat. But, she wanted to gain her teacher's approval and to prove herself a worthy student, and that was enough motivation to keep her going. Xehanort's criticism wasn't all bad, after all, it pushed her to keep trying even when the burdens of training increased. That was what (Y/n) told herself anyway.

Despite all this, the young girl began every day with a spring in her step, hoping that it would be better than the last. She couldn't really explain how she was always so hopeful, especially when work was consistently so hard. It was undeniable that something about fighting felt natural to her, as if she had been doing it all her life. Shrugging it off, she blamed it on her steepening progress, which grew bit-by-bit with every training session.