AN: Alright… my second attempt at an epic… we'll see how it goes, won't we? Hope you like it and reviews are always appreciated. By the way… the chapters in this story skip back and forth between the present and the past… Oh and it's set somewhere between Advent Children and the game…
Disclaimer: Sadly enough I do not own any of the final fantasy characters or places…
You know, many philosophies and theories have been brought up in history, such as: "Is that table really there? Is it only there because I am there to see it? If I turn around does it disappear?" Or maybe: "I see blue when I look at the sky, but is the color we both call blue different from one person to the next?" My personal favorite: "Why do you drive on a parkway but park on a driveway?" The most common question however is: "Is this all part of someone's dream?"
If it was part of someone's dream, it would have to be a pretty sick person, but as in the nature of most truly sick and evil people, this person would have to be smart, and have the ability to multitask. They would have to be able to see every person in the world and what they were doing in that moment. They would have to be able to elaborate as they would know everything that was ever written, said, or done. However, like I said, this person would be sick, with all the problems in today's society or any time's society. They would have to want to kill Tifa…
Rude had gotten a little too close to the wrong side. He had leaned over the line dangerously, almost as if teasing it, laughing at it. However, he had never actually taken that step and now looking down at her limp form, he wished he had.
A year had passed since he had seen her. A year since he had seen her smile, heard her laugh, felt her hair, smelled her sweet perfume. He knelt down onto one knew and ran his fingers through her silky brown hair. Rude trembled, both in anger and sadness.
He was angry that Rufus would be so cold, so heartless. Rufus knew about the time Rude had spent with her during those few months. Rude was sure that was half the reason Rufus wanted her gone.
He was sad that she was gone. He didn't know what to say, or think. It was his fault and he knew it. If he hadn't gotten so close to her she wouldn't have died, or hell, he wouldn't have cared.
Rude looked up around the dusty bar that he kneeled in. Chairs and tables had been upturned in the struggle. Broken glass lay against the opposite wall, from the shot glass she had thrown at Reno when he had angered her.
Reno was behind the bar looking around for something to get drunk off of, just as he always did after he killed someone. "Damn," Reno mumbled. "Where's all the Rum?"
Rude smiled and replied, "It's in the cabinet behind you." Rude remembered the second night he had come in here, right after he had killed someone. She had smiled and asked, 'What'll it be?' When he replied 'rum' she got a sour look on her face and turned to the cabinet behind her…
Reno reached up and grabbed the rum, grinning. "Haha, score," Reno laughed, uncorking it and taking a swig.
"You're going to kill yourself Reno," Rude mumbled reaching for a table and turning it right side up.
"I've been drinkin' since I was twelve man," Reno stated, "if I was going to die it would have happened by now."
Rude sighed softly and shook his head, "I'm sure."
"Hell yeah, you're sure!" Reno took another swig and jumped up onto the counter.
Rude continued putting all the chairs and tables back into place, remembering the times he had been in here.
"We should do something with her," Reno said, looking at Tifa, "Cloud could show up any minute. Barret too, that guy scares the crap out of me."
Rude nodded in agreement, "I'll take care of her, why don't you go search the house or something?"
Reno left, taking the rum bottle with him. Rude listened as Reno walked upstairs then got to work; he worked quickly pretending it was just any other person. He'd done this hundreds of times, so why was it so different now?
It was different because he knew Tifa, he loved Tifa. It was different because something as sad as being an assassin is only made sadder when you're sent to kill a loved one. Something as scary as murder is even scarier when it's not your choice.
When Rude was finished, he sat down on the ground and leaned his head against the wall. "Damn," He mumbled, probably the only expression of misery and contempt he had been feeling lately.
Rude looked up and saw Reno leaning against the doorway leading up to the upstairs apartment. He wore a smirk on his lips and said, "You might want to see this…"