Rinoa's Loss
She sat there, staring off into space, thinking of him. Somehow she had to regain his love.
She would sit there, that same chair, that same place, on her mantlepiece a photo, the only photograph she had of him, tattered and torn. She would gaze longingly at it, hoping one day he would return to her. But he never did.
*
Rinoa slowly got up from her chair; she walked into her kitchen. An old newspaper clipping lay on the table next to where she stood. She stopped to read it, even though she knew it almost off by heart.
WOMAN SAVED BY LOCAL HERO
A YOUNG WOMAN in perilous danger was saved by her boyfriend earlier today.
In the Restarante Leviathano, a fire somehow broke out when a cook accidentally dropped a match onto some sort of flammable material. The place was up in flames very quickly, and was evacuated but the young woman was trapped inside. Not waiting for the fire brigade, he went inside to try and find her, and within a few minutes everyone was safe outside, with the fire brigade putting out the fire. The woman, Rinoa Heartilly, says "I
She stopped reading at that point. Squall had saved her, and she'd never really felt like she'd thanked him enough. So she had to find him. She felt like that she shouldn't be dwelling on past memories, she should be trying to find him, search the world, and one day they would be reunited, in his arms forever, where she should lie, where she should be. To keep their bond unbroken.
She took the photograph from her mantlepiece, and she kissed it, and she muttered, "See you…" and walked out the door.
*
She walked down the lane, and walked into the small shop, the owner of which she had knew so well, until Squall had left her. Without reason.
The old lady came from her till, and said, "Rinoa, where have you been all this time?"
"I was out of town." she lied, not wanting her old friend to know the truth of her supposed disappearance.
"But what happened to you? What are all those scars on your arms?"
She made up some more, some rubbish about running into some thugs in Deling City, wishing she had put a cardigan or something over where she had cut herself, so sad and depressed, herself to blame, herself only-
But she had to move on. Those days were gone, wasted. It was time she would never regain, and she had to accept it. Scarred for life, ugly, maybe even hideous, but if she was in Squall's arms, nothing else would matter, only him and her, destined to be together, forever, forever, and never parting, always close, close, closer, closer-
But she had to find him first. She left the small shop, set off on the long hard weary track what she thought would lead to him.
*