He's quick, and Vanitas expects it, so it's difficult to say if Vanitas is faster or not when he moves half a beat later. Riku's fist narrowly misses connecting, but only by a breath. Vanitas can feel his hair move, caught in the breeze created by the full swing. He's spent hours fighting, he's had a spirit put it's hand through his midsection— but the sharp, caustic excitement that comes from the promise of a fight still surges through his blood.

"Come on!"

Vanitas doesn't summon his Keyblade. Some primal, vicious part of him taking their sudden close quarters as a different kind of bait. Instead, he makes a grab for Riku with both hands as claws. They're in the middle of the Invincible, surrounded by tables and barstools. Maybe a spirit would have stopped them, if they hadn't been so rattled by all that just happened.

As it stands, Vanitas makes to get his fists into Riku's torn jacket, prepared to reverse their positions and throw the other boy up against the counter he'd just shadow-stepped away from.