Disclaimer: FFXIII and all related concepts are properties of respective owners. This is a fanfic, not for distribution, profit, etc.
Extrinsical here, making pre-notes: As the principal writer of part one, I'd like to note that all mistakes in this chapter are mine alone; in part because my tenses are mediocre at best. The theme song for this fiction is Shionari, from Clannad. The song quote below is from Sleep, by Poets of The Fall. Both songs are chosen for good reasons. :)
And before you start reading - depending on how you feel Fang's character is and should be, and especially if you think Fang's name is The Biggest Flirt in Existence, you may find her terribly out-of-character here. There is no suave, flirtatious Fang here; solely because I do not believe her to be that way. Please consider yourself noted, and if that's the sort of Fang you're looking for, you may want to look elsewhere.
Otherwise, if you're still here, I hope this will be an enjoyable read, and thanks for reading.
.
Cicatrices
Part I: Catch-22
"...fickle words crowding your mind, so..."
.
.
Day One
一
Blue is the first thing she registers.
A mix of bright and dark crystallized blue, all of which that gleamed.
Where...
The distant roar of Ragnarok flashes in her mind.
She jerks up, one hand pressing to the cold, smooth ground - and she can't help but gasp a shuddering breath -
A harsh, stinging slap - "Whether you're forgiven or not, I'll let Serah decide that."
"Is the destruction of Cocoon your focus?"
"Cid. Cid Raines. I believe we can make a deal. Can we discuss?"
Snow frowning down at her, a serious, contemplative look on his face as he considered her words - "I'll leave it to Serah to decide what to do."
"We l'cie...are just puppets under the mercy of our focus."
"Fang!"
"We are partners."
"Pulse is hell. We all know that! It's hell!"
"We'll fight against this focus to the end."
"Wishes can come true. But it will be by our own hands, right, Fang?"
Vanille.
"Vanille - !"
Her gaze snaps to her surroundings.
Blue, blue, blue.
Blue crystals, everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, on the tree-shaped crystal that extends so far up -
And she's awake.
Oerba Yun Fang is awake.
Why is she awake?
Vanille. Where -
Her throat's suddenly dry.
There's nothing - nothing - around her, nothing but crystals and wreckage and dim darkness - and yet...and yet, she finds the strangest urge to look up -
And somehow, just somehow - she knows.
Vanille is up there, past that tree-like pillar, at the very top.
Her eyes narrow and squint, trying to get a better look.
How could a crystal look so much like a tree?
There's even a large fruit-like crystal thing hanging off one of its branches...
She freezes.
The fruit.
No.
It's as if a bucket of ice-cold water is dumped on her.
Vanille...
Vanille is still crystallized.
Day Three
一
Rr-iii-p.
In one swift motion, she sinks her teeth in on one end of the torn blue cloth of the saris, and wraps it around her blistered right hand.
Then the left.
Her hands are shaking.
But she ignores them, just like she's ignoring the cuts and bruises and pain all around her that came with the multiple falls she had.
Blood soaks into the cloth wrapped around her palms.
She takes in a deep breath, looks up; past the crystal tree, and sets her jaw.
And she climbs again.
Day Five
一
She feels a low growl of frustration forming deep in her throat.
It's too damned slippery.
Rubbing lightly at the dull ache covering her entire arm, she flexes her fingers; hearing the sound of bones going crack.
Her hands feel like they have numbed over.
Blood has completely soaked into the cloth wrapped around them.
She hasn't eaten anything.
And the only water source that she has - that came from a broken water fountain nearby - is dirty, stale, and limited. The only reason why there's even water left, is, ironically, due to the crumbled wreckage that enclosed over it.
(she had to lift the broken wreckage up and it gave her cuts in the process.)
But she would be damned if she leaves without Vanille, and there's a part of her desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling building and churning uncomfortably in her stomach; the sinking, sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe -
Her fist slams into the hard, rock-like tree, and pain sears all over her knuckles, extending to her wrist.
She exhales, pressing her head to the cold, unforgiving tree; and she's trying to suppress it, trying so, so hard -
Why aren't you awake, Vanille?
Day Seven
一
Pain spreads on her back from her most recent fall; and she's biting back a hiss and the urge to throw up.
She can taste the acid and bile from the back of her throat.
Her stomach's rebelling against her, and Fang feels the strongest temptation to sock a punch at it to shut it up.
But she doesn't, because she's pretty damn sure that will make her throw up.
Instead, she sinks into the floor, the back of her head slamming against it non-too-gently.
She's sore, nauseous and weak.
Damn it all, this is pathetic.
And she's feeling the strangest desire to laugh.
What the hell is this?
Is this the result for failing her focus the first time around?
Or is this the result for rebelling against their focus and -
Her thoughts grind to a halt.
She barks out a laugh, running a bruised, rough hand over her weary face.
She's doing it again, even though there's some part of her that knows - really, really knows - that she shouldn't have to. Not anymore.
Lightning would so punch her if she could see her right now.
( - and she's suddenly wondering how are they and how long has it been and are they still alive and - )
She exhales again, deeply this time, before forcing herself up.
The lethargy's weighing her down, but she shoves it to the back of her mind, and she stands.
A wave of dizziness assaults her.
Her eyes shut, briefly, in a bid to make the dizziness pass (it doesn't), but she trudges up to the crystal tree all the same - and she's limping; a fall some...seven? eight? times ago caused a sprain on her right ankle.
Then she's preparing to climb again, hand lifting to grasp at crystal spikes of the tree.
Her grip on them tightens.
Vanille...wake up.
Wake up.
Please.
Day Nine
一
There's something tapping at her forehead.
Something sharp and pointed, but not enough to hurt.
Tap. Tap tap tap.
But she can barely open her eyes.
Etro, she's so tired. And numb. And heavy.
Tap tap tap.
She doesn't even feel hungry, and it's a morbid sort of relief to her to not feel the hunger pangs anymore.
Tap!
And the tapping is growing increasingly annoying, too.
With strength that she has no idea came from where, she lifts a trembling hand to swipe at the pest tapping at her forehead.
She doesn't hit anything - or at least, she thinks she didn't, but she can't really tell with how numb her hands are.
"Kweh!"
That sounds like a chocobo.
A chocobo?
"Kweeeh!" It sounds fairly indignant.
The tapping resumes.
Harder this time, like it's impatient.
"What?" She somehow manages to growl; her voice scratchy and dry and soft (it hurts to even speak).
"Kweeh!"
She forces her eyes to open.
Her eyes scroll up nearly to the eyelids, and her blurry vision comes face to face with a small, yellow...thing.
A baby chocobo, some innate part of her identifies immediately based on its size.
It's sitting... or standing... on her forehead.
And it's pecking at her again.
Just brilliant.
Did she mention that the tapping - or pecking - is getting irritating?
"Stop it," she mutters, head turning to the side from where she's lying in a bid to shake it off.
It yelps another kweh and stumbles down to the floor.
And proceeds to make two complete barrel-rolls before coming to a halt.
It's completely amusing for reasons Fang can't understand, and she can't help but muster a grin.
"Kweh!"
She watches it get up, flapping its wings at her, as if trying to tell her something.
"What?" She asks it. "I don't get what you're trying to say, damn it."
Now it looks annoyed.
The baby chocobo pads up to her forehead again, and pecks angrily.
A faint grimace forms on her face. "Stop it already." She bats it away wearily with a cloth-wrapped palm that's completely crusted in black blood.
"Kweeh!"
It's also beginning to remind her of the baby chocobo that lives in Sazh's hair (and not for the first time, she wonders how clean his hair is).
Her thoughts stop at that, and her head lifts suddenly despite the heaviness of it.
"Chocobo..?" she croaks out.
"Kweh!" It looks like it's nodding.
Its wings flap again.
This time, she's really trying to read what it's trying to say.
Vanille has always been better than her at that; the girl has always related to them naturally, even when she had not been trained. Where else for her, it's often a hit or miss thing.
"Kweh!"
Get up!
"Bit hard, don't you think?" she tells it. And it is hard; she hasn't eaten for...how many days now? And what little water was left is all gone, and she's suffering from all sorts of injuries and she's awake but Vanille's not and -
"Kweh!"
Still have to.
Then it glances up, up, and for some reason, Fang just knows where and what is it looking at.
"Kweeeh."
Stop being lazy already.
"I'm not." She's beginning to feel irritated again.
It proceeds to stick its beak up at her.
"Kweh." It sniffs at her. (Translation: You so are.)
Sniffs?
Chocobos could sniff?
And for some reason, it's looking particularly deadpan (how does it even manage to look like that?).
That look's making her feel guilty for all sorts of incomprehensible reasons.
"Stupid bird," she mutters, head knocking back onto the floor wearily.
But her fist tightens all the same.
She inhales, exhales, and presses her hand down on the cold floor.
Up.
She slips, twice, while trying to get up - and curse it, even sitting up is painful, let alone trying to stand.
But somehow, one way or another, she still manages to drag herself to the tree again.
She's sitting up now, back resting against cold crystal trunk; and the chocobo is on her raised knee.
It's preening at her approvingly.
She can't help but chuckle at it.
"Yeah, yeah."
Her trembling hand lifts to brush against it.
But all she brushes against was air.
Fang stares in complete confusion.
The chocobo's not there anymore.
It's not.
She knows it didn't fly down to the floor, or up, or around her, or anywhere; because, as exhausted and dehydrated as she may be, she's still completely lucid.
It's just not there.
In the dim darkness of blue and silver, there is only silence.
Silence, and her.
She's -
She barks out a sudden, harsh laugh; her trembling hand fisting in on her hair as she presses her head to her knee.
Oh, this is great.
This is just so great.
( - Vanille - Vanille, please - )
She's hallucinating.
Day Eleven
一
She hasn't moved from her position.
"Hey."
She's being nudged.
But she ignores it; she really can't be bothered to lift her head up from where it's resting against her knee to entertain some hallucinations, especially when she's just so damned tired.
"Aw, come on. It's not nice to ignore an old man," the one nudging her complains.
She could feel someone plopping down beside her.
And though Fang doesn't look up, she knows Sazh is leaning against the tree, hands clasped behind his head, one knee raised to cross over the other.
What she doesn't expect, however, is for him to be completely silent; and it's enough to make her turn her head around just a little to look at pseudo-Sazh.
Like the chocobo, he's staring up at the tree.
Sazh looks pensive, eyebrows furrowed; and his demeanor is oddly serious despite the casual way he sits and the way his foot is tapping at the floor.
"You know," he says without looking at her, "you can't keep doing this."
Shut up, she tells him mentally, turning to rest her forehead on the knee again.
(she still can't really be bothered to voice her disagreement aside from in her head; not to mention speaking hurts.)
But Sazh sounds like he heard it anyway, because his sigh is deliberately loud.
"You're as stubborn as the soldier!" he complains.
Your point?
"Right," he mutters, and grows silent.
And for a while, there's only the tapping of Sazh's foot breaking through the stillness.
It's enough to lull her to sleep, strange as it is.
There's just something oddly comforting about it.
Her consciousness feels like it's going to fade, and some small part of her is telling her that this is not falling asleep, this is blacking out -
"Take a break already," he says suddenly, but his voice seems distant. "I'll watch while you rest."
She almost believes him.
"Hey!" he sounds offended. "I'm not that lazy."
She knows he's not, but she doesn't believe him anyway.
( - because, really, it's just a hallucination - )
And quite suddenly, she feels like she doesn't want to sleep, despite her exhaustion and lethargy and fading consciousness and all that oblivion will offer her - because when (if) she wakes, she knows he will be gone, and there's only so much she can do to shove everything down before they break her -
"Still gotta sleep," he says simply, his voice so much softer now, almost as if it's disappearing -
Fuck you.
Sazh just sighs.
"You can't stop it, Fang."
No.
And yet, she can feel her head going blank -
( - and she knows no more -)
一
He's gone now.
She knows he's gone even before her consciousness returns, and before she opens her eyes.
But in his place - in his place -
Fang sighs.
"Go away," she says (croaks) wearily, ignoring the way her throat hurts; glaring daggers at the person standing before her from where she's lying down. Despite her blurry sight, only two people she knows have pink hair, and only one wouldn't hesitate to radiate her discontentment.
To that, Lightning Farron crosses her arms, but remains silent.
She groans.
"First the chocobo, then Sazh, now you?" she complains. At the same time, her vision clears, and she sees the soldier whose eyebrow is quirked at her.
Her mind's really playing cruel games with her.
She's a masochistic person, isn't she?
"You," Lightning enunciates clearly, as if in response to the little mental jibe she made at herself, "are an idiot."
Go away. You are not even real.
Lightning moves to rub at the bridge of her nose with a hand, sighing. Then her hand moves down to rest easily on the handle of the sword hanging by the back of her hip.
The soldier thumbs at it, as if considering something.
It's a couple long beats before pseudo-Lightning speaks again.
"You're dying," she says simply.
Her expression's fathomless and inscrutable.
( - and Lightning's saying it like it's a normal everyday occurrence, which she can't help but snort at - )
Of course Fang's dying. She hasn't eaten, she's ran out of water who-knows-how-long-ago, she's injured all over, she's too lethargic to even sit up, and she knows she's much too dehydrated but she's not feeling it and that should be bad -
"Do you want to die?" There's a curious note in Lightning's soft words.
Even as the soldier said that, her head had tilted to look up.
She doesn't answer. She doesn't know.
Lightning sighs again, unbuckles her weapon, and moves to sit next to her.
It's a posture she's seen too many times now, Lightning leaning against a tree with a raised knee; hands clasped around it with her sword resting against the shoulder -
She doesn't know how a hallucination could seem so real.
The soldier looks up again, the back of her head pressed against the tree trunk, and is completely silent and motionless.
Fang doesn't think Lightning intends to speak again, and eventually, she turns too, to stare at it.
But she's wrong.
Lightning did break the silence.
"What will you do if Vanille never wakes up?"
She doesn't know when she moved, or how she even moved in her current state, but she did.
With strength that should've been non-existent, her fist had cracked into the crystal tree, and she could see small lines of cracks on it.
She probably broke her wrist in the process.
She thinks she did, because she's pretty sure she heard the sound of bone cracking, though she can't feel it.
But Lightning's not there.
She's not there anymore.
There's only silence and blue and darkness all around her, no pink or sword or orange or rod -
And Fang feels a bitter laugh forming deep in her throat, and it's so dry and tough to even choke out that it's painful; her mouth feels like there's something thick and dry swirling around it, and she's not sure but she thinks she's losing her balance again -
Vanille. Vanille.
Please.
Wake up.
Oblivion claims her.
Day Thirteen
一
She's hearing voices.
" - one - here - !"
Is she hallucinating again?
Then she feels as if a light of sort has been aimed directly at her face, and it makes her eyebrows furrows even though she can't muster the strength to open her eyes.
Go away already. You aren't real.
Footsteps.
Rapid footsteps.
"F - Fang..?"
It's a familiar male voice.
But she can't remember who.
Someone's running towards her. The sound of footsteps is getting louder.
But it's really all in her head, isn't it?
So go away already, damn it.
"Bloody hell," that voice breathes out again. "It's really her."
And she suddenly remembers whose voice it belongs to.
Snow.
She can feel a hand curling around her neck to lift her up slightly.
"Fang. Fang! Can you hear me? Fang!"
Stop it. Stop it. Go away.
"We are leaving now! NOW!" Snow bellows at someone, and there are scrambling feet all over and so many voices that are more like incomprehensible buzzes and noise - "and get me Lebreau - !"
A warm thumb brushes against her cheek.
"We got you, Fang. You hear me? Fang! Fang - !"
一一一
