Finding Rainbows

By sophomoric genius

Disclaimer: Although the plot and characterizations are mine, Ragnarok and all other components of the game are copyright Gravity and Myung Jin Lee.

Warning: Contains coarse language, a tiny bit of violence and some adult themes.

---

One: Cigarettes and Beer

He dreamt of the sky.

Of that deep, beautiful shade of blue that seemed to stretch on and on and on during those clear days of summer.

The sun's powerful golden beams reached far and wide, blinding anyone who dared stare at his glory with their mere mortal eyes. But even the sun, in all his great and terrible majesty, held no control over the wind. She blew clouds thick and heavy until the sun was completely blocked, and the earlier blue sky became nothing more than a murky gray from here to there and as far as the eye could see.

Then he dreamt of the rain.

The stinging cold drops fell from the heavens, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until it drenched him completely; a bitter and freezing reminder that summer was over.

And then he woke up.

At first, there was nothing. The world was pitch black. Then a sudden crack of lightning, followed by thunder, low and distant. His brain finally registered the steady hum of raindrops pelting down the roof.

It was still raining.

With an irritated grunt, he threw back the covers and swung his feet down the wooden floor, his right hand mechanically reaching for the bedside table. His fingers having found the pack of cigarettes, he hastily took one between his teeth and lit it. He took in one long breath of smoke, held it in for more than two seconds, before slowly blowing it out. He took several more long intakes, relishing the soothing pleasure it gave his nerves.

His eyes idly traveled around the dark room, stopping only to stare at the curtains billowing against the wind. He realized that he had pulled his curtains close before he went to bed, as he always did, but he had not closed the windows. He glared at the steady downpour outside as the drapes danced with the wind.

He'd always hated the rain. And this abhorrence only grew deeper as time went by.

She hated the rain too. And she hated it when he smoked.

But she's gone now.

And he hated the rain all the more.

He crushed what was left of his cigarette on the ashtray, flicked another stick off the pack, shoved it into his mouth and lit it. Then he stood up, pocketed his pack, and headed out. Cigarettes just won't cut it. He needed beer.

---

There was a storm that night.

It was their common dislike of the rain that drew them close. Two wretched souls finding comfort in each other's melancholic presence. What a joke. But every bit true. Those soggy, miserable nights became considerably tolerable because of her. And although he had always been a man of vice, he constantly found himself seeking her company instead of theirs. Cigarettes and beer simply paled in comparison.

But she ruined it all that night with just two words.

"I'm leaving."

The storm continued to rage outside the guild castle's stone walls. For the first time, he actually felt as if the heavens understood.

"Why?"

"Because I have to."

"No you don't."

An exasperated sigh. "Yes, I do."

"A game?" His fist landed sharply on the table top. "Is that all this is to you?"

She did not even flinch. She was used to his temper. "No. But I can't leave him, not now. You know that, Kel."

"Dammit, Hannah! Fuck him! He left you, remember? And now you're gonna go running back to him like nothing happened? The fuck!"

He stood up and kicked his chair sideways. He kicked the table too, sending it violently against the wall. But she remained seated on the bed, a small suitcase at her feet, calm as ever.

"He needs me, Kel," she told him quietly.

"What, and I don't?"

She finally looked up to him, but he had his back on her. "I believe you can take care of yourself, Kel. I have faith in you."

"You know what, you're right." He turned around and glared at her, his dark eyes piercing right through her. He shook his head, a crazed sneer distorting his handsome face. "You're just a girl, Hannah. A girl to serve my needs. Just like those fucking whores. I don't need you. I'll just go get myself another whore."

Her face grew pale as a ghost, blood completely drained out of her face. She stared at him in shock, pain evident in her large brown eyes. But he was so consumed with anger that he hardly cared. He wanted to hurt her. Hurt her just as she had hurt him.

"That's right, bitch. You wanna go? Then go. Good riddance."

"I'm sorry."

"Well I'm not. Fuck you, Hannah."

And with that he stormed out the room. Before he managed to slam the door shut however, he heard her whisper.

"I love you."

---

"Come on, man, wake up. You're not fooling me."

He groaned, lifting his heavy lids with much effort. A sharp pain instantly shot through his head. "Fuck."

"You've had, what? Six bottles? You're not drunk, Kel." A punch on his upper arm. "Up!"

He pushed himself up from his slump on the bar with a grimace. The short nap only managed to sting his eyes. He grabbed the first bottle he saw and gulped it down.

"Shit, man. I was drinking that." The assassin glared at him in disgust.

He set the empty bottle down and gave his friend a passing look. "Quit being such a girl, Trey." He caught the bartender's eye and gestured for another beer.

"I think I know what you need, dude." A shrewd grin replaced the glare.

He snorted. "Then do it, dude. Leave. Now."

Trey just laughed. He threw his arm over his annoyed friend's neck and snatched the ordered bottle out of the bartender's hands even before Kel saw it.

"Your wish is my command," the assassin told him before taking a swig.

It was his turn to shoot daggers. "Then why the hell are you drinking my beer instead of walking away?"

Trey shrugged. "You drank mine." Then a lewd grin. "And about walking, how about we take one now? There's this nice little brothel a few blocks from here. Whadaya say eh, Kelly Boy?"

"The name's Kel! Call me that again and you'll have a pair of arrows sticking out of your chest." He raised his arm, pushing Trey's away from his shoulders with such ferocity that the assassin was forced off his seat.

"Not before I slit your throat," was the quick retort, hands poised, ready to draw out his weapon any second.

The two glowered at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, the assassin broke off the glare-fest and sat back down, shaking his head.

"Alright," he sighed, raising his hands in defeat. "Kel it is. Sheesh. We really have to do something about these freakish mood swings of yours. You're worse than assassins."

Kel merely grunted in reply and searched his pockets to find an empty cigarette pack. He crumpled it and threw it aside with an agitated "Fuck!"

"Yep, that's definitely what you need, dear guildmaster." Trey's lewd grin was back. "Some nice long fuck to get you back into shape."

"What do you mean get me back to shape?" he snapped indignantly. He got up and stared coldly down at his so-called friend. "I don't need brothels. Unlike you, I can get a girl on my own."

And with that, he stormed out of the bar.

"Just get yourself laid, man." Trey called out after him. "It'll make you feel better, I swear."

At least it stopped raining.

---

He thought it was the alcohol at first. But after a split second he realized he wasn't drunk.

He thought he'd forgotten. He'd tried so hard to erase those long red locks and huge brown eyes from his memories. Dear Odin, those eyes! It took months to get those damn eyes out of his head!

"What are you doing here?"

It just slipped out before he had the chance to actually think decently. The question blatantly admitted that he knew her. Why would he know her when he'd completely eradicated her from his life?

Well, at least his tone was flat. He should follow that up with some smart-ass comment.

"Well, of course. That's your place a few blocks down, right? The brothel?"

He saw her wince at his words.

There. Redemption. And his cue to walk away with a smug look was right about now.

"I believed in you, Kel."

Her voice was soft, almost loving. It was almost as if time flew backwards, as if they were still lovers.

But they weren't anymore. She was the one who broke it off.

And he really ought to be walking away now.

"I thought you could take care of yourself. I guess I was wrong."

He scowled. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine."

She smiled at him.

That was the one thing he'd forgotten. How that smile could make him do just about anything.

"Let's talk, Kel. For old time's sake?"

He actually had another snide remark to that. But that smile…

"Fine. Follow me."

--end of one--