O-K! trying to end writers block with a rather darker fic than I usually write. My First FF7 fic, so enjoy!
Fall, splash. Fall splash. Rain had a way of repeating itself, repeating every other raindrop. A brown coat hid his body from prying eyes, as the man slowly made his way down the street; his eyes distant, features unmoving.
A bright expression completed his day, as the man bent to give her a wrapped gift. She tore at the paper excitedly; her posture so much like his own, gasping at the sight of the doll.
Faceless people brushed past; go here go there. Late for a meeting. Going shopping. Running for shelter. Lazily, the red haired man entered the park, allow his gaze to wander over to leaves falling softly from a shrivelled branch. Ahead, some homeless had lit a bin fire, shoving paper into its waiting mouth.
Tapping away at the computer, the headset picks up the call. His eyes widen at the soft voice of the caller. Running out the building, catching the train. Running again, only to catch a glimpse of smoke.
A pair of youths shove the figure out of the way, forcing him into a puddle. He rises, taking his time, a small tear in his eye. The burning bringing memories forth, tearing the present asunder.
He stormed into the house, ignoring the searing heat and the laughter of the bikers. He found her on the floor, out of the flames; dress ripped and torn asunder. Wet tears still dripped from the soulless eyes, mixing with blood.
A small bird remains chirping in the steady rain, singing its heart out for all to hear. The man looks up, allowing the rain to run down his face. A strong wind blows aside the coat for second, revealing to all a muddied blue suit, ripped and charred in places.
The police brought him to an interview room, and thrust him into a chair. The investigator is saying things; stringing sounds together in order to form words. The man doesn't look up, fails to take notice of anything. Finally, the investigator asks the question, and slowly the man nods.
Autumn leaves lazily fall from the tree, softly reaching the ground as the wind still whispers and the rain still pounds. The man turns to look at the late flowers, sitting snug in their bed. Relying on each other to stay rooted, and watching soberly as their petals are plucked, one by one.
He entered the bar, ordering a single pint. Pain flashed through his eyes at the sight of the barmaid. A small, brown haired girl in a purple dress. More tears threatened to fall, but he cleared them and put on a nonchalant expression. More pints followed.
He pulls a rod from under the coat; stares, battles and wars fill his mind for but a second, until he sees the bench. Another blue suit, a name in the mind; Tseng. A blink and he's left, the stone bench the only thing there.
A figure sat by him, also ordering a pint. He turned to look at the distraught man, his facade broken by the drink. The blue suit patted him on the shoulder, before placing a card next to the man, and, on finishing his drink, left the bar.
He moves over to bench, and reads the memorial engraved on it.'In memory of all those lost in the meteor crisis. May they all find their promised land.' The man sits down, not caring for the layer of water.
He still liked a drink, but now had learnt the art of hiding pain. His comrades suspected nothing, thinking of him as an eccentric, yet skilled, addition to the Turks.
There are gonna be three chapters to this, and the next will probably be more or less the same (but with a different character). Bye now!