Thinking of the Past.
Ch 1
The Run
A/N: I made a drabble about Hope/Vanille, and I didn't expect it to get so much attention, but it did. And because of that, I'm making another story about Hope/Vanille, but after I start up this one. I thought up this one first, so I'm going to make it first, and then I will work on it. This one is my HopeXoc story. I hope you like it! (No pun intended)
Being a l'Cie could be a curse or blessing, and we all knew this. But lately, all we have seen, everything we have overcome, has been for nothing.
I never asked for any of this, but I got it anyways. They are going to kill me, and I can't even protect myself. What a worthless l'Cie I am.
Or maybe, I wasn't supposed to be one in the first place.
I know my focus. But I won't be crystallized anyways. It's impossible. My focus will never be completed. And it's because of the gun pointed at my face. That startling image of the barrel being pointed to my face would be branded in my mind, even in my after death.
And for the first time in a long time, I was scared. I was scared for my life.
The figure above me squeezed the trigger, and I opened my mouth for one last scream when I heard a gunshot sound from the far right. The person above me gasped then dropped like a lead balloon, and the others around me forgot I was there and geared up for battle.
"Team NORA!" One of the guards shouted.
"Shoot them!" Another said.
I toke that opportunity to scamper away, shaken by the fact that I had almost faced immediate death.
Sometimes death clicks everything into perspective. That people are fragile and easily breakable. A twist to the neck, a gun to the head, things like this make you wonder just how lucky you are to be alive. Or even just how unlucky you are.
I hid in a corner as the battle raged on.
With my asthma, I was easily hyperventilating and unable to breath. I used the wonders of my inhaler, but it didn't seem to work.
Moments later, the guns stopped, but I dare not exit my hiding place. I heard footfalls, and scooted back deeper into the mound of dirt and grime destruction that sheltered me.
A very tall figure appeared and looked down at me, and I squeaked as he held out a hand to help me.
He was tall, six-foot five from what I saw, and he had blond hair that hung out of a black beanie hat he wore. The hand he stretched out to help me up with was adorned with a black glove.
I stared up at him and scooted away from him. I was afraid of getting hurt.
"It's okay! Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you." He said gently, giving me a genuine smile.
"But…I can't....out there...," I stuttered.
What I really wanted to say was that I was a l'Cie, and he couldn't, and probably wouldn't, help me. I just couldn't get the words out. He wouldn't be able to tell that I was a l'Cie, my mark was on the small of my back, covered under my tattered robe.
I must have looked awful with my matted, dirt filled blond hair and my smudged face. I was parched, and my voice responded by not carrying above a whisper and cracking violently.
"It's okay. I'm Snow Villiers, captain of Team NORA. Don't be afraid, we heroes are here to help," he gave me another smile, and I stared up at him, contemplating whether or not I could trust him.
I reached my hand out slowly, and flinched when he reached forward and pulled me to my feet. I must have been weak, because I nearly dropped again when I stood on my feet.
"So what's your name?" he asked me.
I looked up at him again. God, he was so tall…
"Valesti. My name is Valesti Marine Harper. But call me Valesti," I told him softly.
"Okay, Vali," he patted my head, messing up my already roused hair.
"Stay close to us," he started to walk forward, and I followed.
We met up with a group of Purgees, most who looked scared for their lives.
"Stay with them," Snow told me.
I nodded, then looked through the crowd, wondering where I would sit.
A robed figure waved at me, then motioned for me to sit next to him or her.
With no other choice, I walked over to the person and sat down.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"I'm Valesti," I told her.
"Hi! I'm Vanille," she whispered back.
Snow walked towards the group of Purgees as a scrawny looking kid ran forward with a bunch of guns.
He tripped and fell, and I covered my mouth to stifle my sudden laughter.
"Careful with the merchandise," Snow told him, and the boy laughed.
"Hey, let us help!"
"We can't stand around and just wait!"
People in the crowd protested, asking to help Team NORA fight.
"Alright, Volunteers front and center," Snow said. People got up and toke guns, getting ready for battle.
A lady with shoulder length white blond hair stood and took a gun.
"Mom?" A boy next to Vanille whispered.
"Are you sure?" Snow asked her.
She smiled. "Moms are tough," she told him.
Snow held up the last gun, and looked around.
"Anyone else?" he asked. He held the gun out to the boy who had spoken earlier, but the boy scooted away and refused.
Vanille sat up and held her hands out to the gun, and Snow handed it to her.
"Keep them safe," He told us.
Vanille pointed the gun at him and pretended to shoot.
"Bang!"
Snow laughed and pretended to be shot.
Sometimes, even someone elses death can put things into perspective. It can almost shock you as much as the people who knew the dying soul well.
And that's what happened when we walked across one of the bridges and watched Team NORA and the volunteers plummet.
Snow was hanging of the edge of the bridge, holding on to the mom who had volunteered, but even from here you could tell he was losing his grip on her, and reversed as well.
She said something to him, a final word, and they lost each others' hands. Both of them plummeted down screaming.
I stared at the scene in front of me, and the boy who the lady had mothered was standing next to me. He looked lost, shaken, and so was I. I felt so bad for him!
Vanille came over and tried to talk him into continuing forward, but he seemed too lost in thought to hear her.
She had had enough, and she smacked him.
Her actions broke through his thoughts, and he seemed to wake up as Vanille found my hand and dragged us both away.
We shed our cloaks, and revealed our faces to each other.
Vanille was a pretty girl with a light, care free smile. Her hair was a sun tinted brunette color that shone a little red, and she had her hair up in curly pigtails.
My blond hair was a mess, but I hurriedly straightened it out, brushing some of the dirt out of it.
And the boy, well…he was cute. Cuter than cute, maybe. He had a soft feature to his face, and his hair was so blond it shone silver.
"Okay, before we go on, we should introduce ourselves because.." she turned to the boy. "We don't even know your name."
"I'll start," she continued. "My name is Vanille!"
She pointed to me.
"My name is Valesti Marine Harper. But people like to call me Vali," I whispered, referring to the nickname Snow gave me.
The boy looked at Vanille, then me. "I'm Hope," he said.
Hope…That was something we all needed.