Vanitas' thoughts are too slow and syrupy to appreciate that he's shocked Riku with this information. And even if he wasn't, there's no guarantee that Vanitas would even realize that's what's so surprising. Living in it every day, with every keyblade wielder knowing what Darkness is and what it does to a person, then why should this be any kind of surprise? Vanitas was made of it, he'd never gotten the chance to try and be anything else, even back when he wanted it. Back when it was mostly just jealousy filtered through a lens of hatred.
Ventus was everything he didn't get to have. He was everything Vanitas should have been, but he'd been sifted out of his heart and left this hungry, yawning void, separated from any stimulus that wasn't the empty abandonment of the desert. All he'd wanted was to find a way for it to end, and Xehanort told him to do that, he had to but them back together.
Even now, he's not sure how to reconcile the fact he has the x-Blade in his possession, because the actual weapon is meaningless in his palms. Having it doesn't make him hurt any less. It's no different than that wooden toy Vanitas snapped in half in Neverland. But it's the only tether he has to Sora, or to Master Xehanort, and Vanitas isn't sure what he would be without them both lingering like ghosts, defining him even when they aren't around.
Riku reaches for his cup and Vanitas, clicking back into the conversation, frowns at him and possessively pulls it away. It's not out of reach, cuddled in against his chest like that. He and Riku are sitting close enough that Riku could still take it from him.
"Yes you have," He argues, though it looks more like a pout, misunderstanding completely. "You tried to give me that gross..." He raises wiggles his unoccupied wrist, where it dangles off the edge of the bench. "... with the salt."
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Ventus was everything he didn't get to have. He was everything Vanitas should have been, but he'd been sifted out of his heart and left this hungry, yawning void, separated from any stimulus that wasn't the empty abandonment of the desert. All he'd wanted was to find a way for it to end, and Xehanort told him to do that, he had to but them back together.
Even now, he's not sure how to reconcile the fact he has the x-Blade in his possession, because the actual weapon is meaningless in his palms. Having it doesn't make him hurt any less. It's no different than that wooden toy Vanitas snapped in half in Neverland. But it's the only tether he has to Sora, or to Master Xehanort, and Vanitas isn't sure what he would be without them both lingering like ghosts, defining him even when they aren't around.
Riku reaches for his cup and Vanitas, clicking back into the conversation, frowns at him and possessively pulls it away. It's not out of reach, cuddled in against his chest like that. He and Riku are sitting close enough that Riku could still take it from him.
"Yes you have," He argues, though it looks more like a pout, misunderstanding completely. "You tried to give me that gross..." He raises wiggles his unoccupied wrist, where it dangles off the edge of the bench. "... with the salt."