This idea came to me around 2 in the morning when I was trying to fall asleep...and thinking about it kept me awake even longer. I had just been reading a FFVIII fanfic while listening to music and this is what my brain produced. It's kinda short...but what can you do?

It's a one-shot, and it may inspire another fic, but I'm not sure if I want to do that. We'll see.

I obviously do not own anything from FFVIII, that's all Squaresoft's.

I now present to you: The Night Returns.

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If one happened to be walking down June Av. at four in the afternoon, they would see a something truly beautiful.

They would see a young girl, almost a woman, strolling seemingly aimlessly down the sidewalk. They would be struck in their hearts how stunningly her raven tresses contrasted with the snow that fluttered down in lazy patterns to contribute to the white blanket already covering the ground. They might see the deep intensity in her dark eyes, or the small, self-assured smile on her lips.

But they wouldn't see her heart, or know what she knew.

Her walk was not aimless, she took this route every day, and it kept her out for several hours. It was her escape before she was back to her father's mansion; back to everything that reminded her of what she didn't want to remember anymore.

Rinoa, I don't know what to do with you anymore, you're out of control. Ever since your mother died, I don't want to be near you.

Do fathers say that to their daughters? Do they abandon little girls when they're needed to most? Rinoa supposed so.

She slowed her pace for a few minutes and eventually stopped. She stared at the streets for a time. Closing her eyes, they looked just fine. But they were all empty.

The streets were always empty. The young woman turned her back to them to gaze at the frozen river. It made everything feel alright, even without love there.

The truth? The streets were empty not because of the cold. Not because of the time. All of the people that should be there were out, gone. Out in search for someone new.

But all of these people, going to the clubs and bars, what were they looking for? They were searching for love in all the wrong places. Didn't they know that?

They were seeking lies, not truth. Just a few hits of lust to feel desired, to feel special. An addiction that rests deep inside the human nature, it took over their senses. The city was crying out for it. Rinoa could almost hear the voices of thousands, demanding something that wasn't really love.

'My heart will never break..."

She continued down to Main St. where she would pass one of many clubs filled with the wrong emotions. She could hear the music encouraging the lust.

Holding her breath, she walked on by, feeling as if she was moving in slow motion, ignoring the magnetic draw. And with her head down, she could see her path for miles; it took her past all the joints filled with empty people searching to be filled with other empty people. It was a never ending cycle in this city.

Rinoa was beginning to believe that she was the only one who knew the secret; the only who understood that these people weren't getting love. Still, she walked the streets every day, searching for another who saw the truth, maybe someone to tell her that she wasn't crazy.

Over the next hour and a half she passed all the bars, all the clubs. She sighed heavily, she'd seen no sign of intelligence. She was still alone. She would be alone for the hardest part of the day, and she would probably be alone forever.

And then the sun went down.

As the night returned, she felt her life being taken out of her. She fell to her knees, gritting her teeth against the pain. She fought the feelings of emptiness, of desire. The need for love invaded every sense. She was sick of fighting it. "I'm not falling," Rinoa whispered. But she was just pretending, just fooling herself. She was falling into the confusion.

Someday soon, if she couldn't find another who knew the truth, she would fall into the pain and unhappiness. It would claim and break her heart as it had hundreds of thousands of times to all the others. Had she really no hope?

As her vision began to grow hazy, she thought she saw something. A boy, dressed in black, walking the streets. His back was turned to her, but she had a feeling she'd see him again.

A smile played on Rinoa's lips as she found the strength inside of her to continue.

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The song that this was inspired by is The Night Returns, by Eyes Catch Fire.

Review? Pretty please?