Heroes Die
By: The DayDreaming
Dedicated to: Me, of course! My birthday is coming up on July 21st, and this is probably the only piece of fanfiction writing I'll get out for a while. I consider this an early present to myself!
Warnings: Uh, confusingness and randomness. If you read this and feel totally lost, have no fear, for I had no idea what I was doing while writing it. I think it's angst, but I'm not a good judge, so I'll forewarn that there are some fairly dark themes. Just a tiny bit. I also didn't proofread! (Is bricked.)
Pairings: None so to speak of. Perhaps a very faint hint of Yuffentine, just to appease those who wish poor old Vince would get a bit more action in the fandom. Very, very slight. Like, nonexistent.
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Kingdom Hearts! I am but a mere pawn in Square Enix's game to conquer all life.
Summary: Yuffie is afraid. (A drabble in 4, unrelated parts.) "She wasn't quite sure, but the image of a cape-toting little daisy-boy of a hero strung on a clothesline just wouldn't leave."
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one, That Which We Perceive
For some, the realization of what they have comes a bit too late. For others, it can arise a bit too soon. Who could go through life, thankful for everything they ever had, right from the very start? And then again, who wanted to be so ignorant as to not notice?
Yuffie thinks Aerith might have been one of those early-birds, the kind of person that's always thankful and understanding. Who can really be thankful though, after stupid chocobo-heads run off, and heartless destroy the very things you work so hard to put a smile on for?
Yuffie thinks that Squall was one of those late-bloomers, the kind of person that doesn't realize what he has until it's gone. Who can really be so ignorant as to think that life goes on forever?
Yuffie thinks that Sora can't be put into a category, because the kid is so ignorant and aware at the same time that he really doesn't deserve her judgment. Who could be so impudent as to defy her system?
(For the sake of not being a hypocrite, she doesn't categorize herself, either. Because, really, who is she to say that she knows she should be thankful, but doesn't try to be?)
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two, Hated and Lost
She hates it. Just it. Just everything.
Why do they ever try in the first place? Leon-Squall and Aerith say that it's her home and that they have to rebuild it (rebuild rebuild). But the heartless, the heartless, they keep tearing everything apart (her home her home).
(what home?)
They're going no where fast, and it was in her nature to run away (coward coward). She hates not knowing what to do. Not doing anything. Doing something, but having nothing to show for it (do as does do what you should). Every day, every single day, they worked and pushed and gritted their teeth (she hid in a closet to avoid the hardest work), only to have the heartless destroy it time and time again (can you really blame them blame a creature fulfilling its purpose).
(where is your purpose?)
How can she love a planet that does not love her? How can she call a place that lives to die, a home (what home what home)? She hates the fact that they make her call it home (strangle-hold loss of breath/belief). There's no purpose to fixing what can't be fixed, no purpose in staying, no purpose in living (if not a purpose here, than where if not a purpose here, than why stay at all). They make her stay, they make her stay.
(can you love that which restrains you?)
And so, she hates it. Hates it. Hates rebuilding. Hates her home. Hates being a coward. Hates doing but never getting. Hates the heartless.
She hates her little heart out until there's nothing but prepared rhetoric and a predictable happiness that isn't quite sad, quite happy, quite under control. She hates so much that she doesn't even realize she's got nothing to love, doesn't even realize she's hating at all.
She hates hates hates hates hates hates hates hates hates, and still there's more and why she isn't taken into darkness like Cloud was she'll never know.
(And for hating everything, a dark, niggling little thief's voice whispers in the back of her mind, "And you hate them, too." Yuffie doesn't ever want to think about who "them" pertains to, even though she has a pretty good idea.)
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three, Caped Crusaders
She figures that there isn't much she can't handle. She was the Great Ninja Yuffie, after all. No matter the demon, no matter the dire situation, no matter the annoying, super cliché bad guy in the way, Yuffie would always be the one laughing in the end. Who needed knights in shining armor or heroes, when you had someone as uber-awesome as Yuffie?
Though, she surmises to herself, if she were to ever come into a situation where she needed to be, well, rescued (she called it friendly assistance of the minimal kind), than she wouldn't want one of those wimpy, wish-washy innocent-and-pure fight-for-the-light kind of heroes to whisk her away to safety. A person like that just isn't real enough to save her uber-awesome ninja behind. In her opinion, they should be hung up on a clothes line and set out in the sun to dry. Why? She wasn't quite sure, but the image of a cape-toting little daisy-boy of a hero strung on a clothesline just wouldn't leave.
Instead, if she had to be rescued, she'd prefer guys with ragged red capes and messy black hair, brilliant crimson eyes, and having a way of holding a weapon that just screamed badass. Yes, that was her kind of hero. At least that way, it wouldn't be so embarrassing when she's telling her comrades how it was that she got herself snagged on a fence while running away from a dog the size of her foot (though she adamantly claims that it was a heartless dog that was going to bite off her face).
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four, Heroes Die
Yuffie is afraid.
Afraid of what, she isn't sure.
Perhaps, she's afraid of what will happen to Aerith. Aerith is always there, nothing to fear of leaving. But, Yuffie's afraid that she'll leave anyways, if only because, when she sleeps, sometimes Yuffie has sword-through-the-stomach dreams, of Aerith being crimson red instead of emerald green.
Yuffie is afraid.
Afraid of who, she isn't sure.
Perhaps, she's afraid of Squall-Leon. Leon tries his hardest, his very best, while Squall is shut in a closet. But, Yuffie's afraid he'll try too hard, try so hard that he snaps, and suddenly there's no more Leon, and Squall is lying on the ground, heart slowly fading into a darkness where no one can reach it, save for a person who is probably dead.
Yuffie is afraid.
Afraid of when, she isn't sure.
Perhaps, she's afraid of when she'll die. Yuffie is always vibrant and alive, and the last thing anyone would expect is for her to fall into a grave. But, Yuffie's afraid of that darkness, that unknown, pending void, and so she whispers to herself that all hearts return to Kingdom Hearts, and that there's nothing to fear; death is like sleep, and she'll never be missed by anyone, but damn it, she didn't want to die.
Yuffie was afraid.
Now, she isn't. There's no need to be, when all her fears have been fulfilled.
Yuffie was afraid, but now there is that calm hollowness of one who is about to sleep, the tired, heavy lids that cover eyes just witness to the realization of a heart's worst fears; the thud of two bodies replays, replays, replays.
A yellow flower wilts in her pocket, a Griever pendant rusts into a stain on her hand.
(Upon hearing her paranoia, Aerith smiles and tells Yuffie, "Don't be so afraid. Nothing like that will ever happen." Leon nods his head and the two leave. Yuffie's shoelace breaks.)
They say death is like sleep.
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I am now everything good that you did (that you did).
I'm tossing out all of the things you kept hid
Like the scars on your knuckles,
The way that you chuckled
When the bottle made way for it.
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And I know you hear me.
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Sometimes, we watch our heroes die
And we don't know why, and we don't know why they left us so young.
Sometimes, we watch our mirrors cry
And we don't know why, and we don't know why they left us undone.
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I'm not sure what this is. I was reading some stories in the FFXII section and reading one gave me the sudden urge to write. It was very liberating to just type without really thinking of a plot or motive. I'd like to just sit down and type like this again. I also tried out a new style, this sectioned drabble thing. I've always loved drabbles that are sectioned like this one, I don't know why. So, I tried it out, and I really like it. I also experimented with repetition, which I might have done a bit too much on. And for anyone whose read A Memory Like a Scattered Dream, you'll see my trademark font changes. I haven't given up on that story, by the way. I just have a bit of writer's block.
The lyrics at the end are "Heroes Die" by Ronnie Day, a song which I highly recommend. I love this song, so, if you get the chance, look it up on YouTube or something (But I do not recommend the music video for it, since it kind of ruined the meaning of the song for me.)
All and all, I really enjoyed writing this, since I missed writing about Yuffsters. I haven't been to the Yuffie section for a while, and I feel really bad about it, but, hopefully, I'll be back soon with another Clouffie to officially apologize.
If you're confused about anything in the drabble, or have a request, just ask me and I'll be happy to reply. Well, please review! The DayDreaming out!