Silence
by Kin Ryu
'In the End, it will not be the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends that we remember.' - Martin Luther King
I'll not be remembered for either ...
Slowly, steadily, Zell crept along the hallway, passed classrooms long since silenced of the students' laughing, the teacher's lecture. Pass the places were a fine bit of his rememberable youth was held. He stepped onto the elevator and watched through the glass panes as it lowered him to the bottom floor. Metal Knuckle was slipped from his pockets on roughened hands and the strap at the wrist adjusted to size.
Red sneakers softly padded across the stairs and to the doorway of the Training Center. He paused at the door and waited, shuffling impatiently from foot to foot. The gears squeaking from lack of grease, the door opened. Zell slid quietly into the underbrush and studied his surroundings. The man had been here for many times in his youth, always on the hunt for monsters, but this time was different.
'You're here, somewhere. Now where?' he whispered to himself and moved from his spot into the open. Trails empty except for the occasional rustle in the plants, he half ran, half walked down them. His excitement kept him speeding up, his worry slowing him. Between the two emotions, he got there soon enough to keep him happy either way.
The scream of a Grat going down in pain brought his mind to attention on the target ahead of him. Squall dipped his gunblade in the water, letting the sticky blood rinse off in the stream and pulled out a tattered rag to clean it. Pulling the cloth along a groove on top of the blade for the bullet, he glanced over at Zell coming out of the bushes.
'Took long enough,' Squall muttered. Zell shuffled back and forth, staring at the remains of the Grat. He ran fingers along his head, rippling the hair out of its spike.
'I ... had something to take care of first.' Not a complete lie. He had been on the balcony, trying to decide whether or not to actually come.
'Well what did you want, Zell?' Again, he bounced back and forth. All that energy he wasn't using, trying to concentrate. But he wasn't in battle, it wasn't as easy when it was words. The moves in battle decided ones existance, if they were misplaced it was easy to reflect the attack and place it properly the second time. With words, the attack could stumble several times and still never land where it should, or the way it should.
'Zell. What do you want?' Squall repeated impatiently. Zell could see the dark rings under his eyes; Squall hadn't been sleeping well lately. Taking a deep breath, the martial artist steadied himself for the attack.
'I needed to tell you something.' Swing.
'I know that part. What did you want to tell me that you couldn't unless we were here?' Stumble.
'I ... I love you.' A rushed punch.
'...' A hit, but hard enough?
'I've known it since I saw you the day you joined Garden. The way you looked in your SeeD uniform. It made me so happy to know you'd gotten in.' A high kick.
'...' Did this one hit anything?
'I was also so hyper because I was nervous. I always wanted to tell you.' Harder, to the center.
'Zell ...' Did it hit? Was this the reaction?
'Squall?' Patience before the next attack.
'Zell ...' Where was the attack?
Attack!
Squall rushed forward to the blonde boy in front of him. He reached out and brought Zell into his arms. The brunette leaned down and kissed him on his fallen crest.
'Squall?' Zell asked quietly, not wanting to break the silence. He looked up into a pair of warm eyes. For the first time since Zell had met Squall, his eyes weren't clouded over and emotionless, but friendly and caring. Was this the real Squall? Or the fakeout before the real attack?
'Shh. Quiet, Zell.' Squall held him tighter; Zell obliged.
A few minutes passed, but they seemed stretched into an eternity that didn't last quite long enough. Squall retrieved Revolver from the ground where he had dropped it and walked off, his back to Zell.
'Don't tell. I need to be cold, for the team. I can't have emotions ruining everything. I can't have you,' Squall said without looking behind him. Zell sat down on the plank bridge, putting his head in his hands, he cried.
I'll not be remembered for either ... But will I be remembered at all?
~o~
ANs: Yeah ... So I got the idea when I saw our year end video and that quote was in it. I don't remember if Martin Luther King or his son who said it. Just bare with me if I put the wrong name, or even better, send me an email telling me who did say it and I'll fix it. R&R!
by Kin Ryu
'In the End, it will not be the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends that we remember.' - Martin Luther King
I'll not be remembered for either ...
Slowly, steadily, Zell crept along the hallway, passed classrooms long since silenced of the students' laughing, the teacher's lecture. Pass the places were a fine bit of his rememberable youth was held. He stepped onto the elevator and watched through the glass panes as it lowered him to the bottom floor. Metal Knuckle was slipped from his pockets on roughened hands and the strap at the wrist adjusted to size.
Red sneakers softly padded across the stairs and to the doorway of the Training Center. He paused at the door and waited, shuffling impatiently from foot to foot. The gears squeaking from lack of grease, the door opened. Zell slid quietly into the underbrush and studied his surroundings. The man had been here for many times in his youth, always on the hunt for monsters, but this time was different.
'You're here, somewhere. Now where?' he whispered to himself and moved from his spot into the open. Trails empty except for the occasional rustle in the plants, he half ran, half walked down them. His excitement kept him speeding up, his worry slowing him. Between the two emotions, he got there soon enough to keep him happy either way.
The scream of a Grat going down in pain brought his mind to attention on the target ahead of him. Squall dipped his gunblade in the water, letting the sticky blood rinse off in the stream and pulled out a tattered rag to clean it. Pulling the cloth along a groove on top of the blade for the bullet, he glanced over at Zell coming out of the bushes.
'Took long enough,' Squall muttered. Zell shuffled back and forth, staring at the remains of the Grat. He ran fingers along his head, rippling the hair out of its spike.
'I ... had something to take care of first.' Not a complete lie. He had been on the balcony, trying to decide whether or not to actually come.
'Well what did you want, Zell?' Again, he bounced back and forth. All that energy he wasn't using, trying to concentrate. But he wasn't in battle, it wasn't as easy when it was words. The moves in battle decided ones existance, if they were misplaced it was easy to reflect the attack and place it properly the second time. With words, the attack could stumble several times and still never land where it should, or the way it should.
'Zell. What do you want?' Squall repeated impatiently. Zell could see the dark rings under his eyes; Squall hadn't been sleeping well lately. Taking a deep breath, the martial artist steadied himself for the attack.
'I needed to tell you something.' Swing.
'I know that part. What did you want to tell me that you couldn't unless we were here?' Stumble.
'I ... I love you.' A rushed punch.
'...' A hit, but hard enough?
'I've known it since I saw you the day you joined Garden. The way you looked in your SeeD uniform. It made me so happy to know you'd gotten in.' A high kick.
'...' Did this one hit anything?
'I was also so hyper because I was nervous. I always wanted to tell you.' Harder, to the center.
'Zell ...' Did it hit? Was this the reaction?
'Squall?' Patience before the next attack.
'Zell ...' Where was the attack?
Attack!
Squall rushed forward to the blonde boy in front of him. He reached out and brought Zell into his arms. The brunette leaned down and kissed him on his fallen crest.
'Squall?' Zell asked quietly, not wanting to break the silence. He looked up into a pair of warm eyes. For the first time since Zell had met Squall, his eyes weren't clouded over and emotionless, but friendly and caring. Was this the real Squall? Or the fakeout before the real attack?
'Shh. Quiet, Zell.' Squall held him tighter; Zell obliged.
A few minutes passed, but they seemed stretched into an eternity that didn't last quite long enough. Squall retrieved Revolver from the ground where he had dropped it and walked off, his back to Zell.
'Don't tell. I need to be cold, for the team. I can't have emotions ruining everything. I can't have you,' Squall said without looking behind him. Zell sat down on the plank bridge, putting his head in his hands, he cried.
I'll not be remembered for either ... But will I be remembered at all?
~o~
ANs: Yeah ... So I got the idea when I saw our year end video and that quote was in it. I don't remember if Martin Luther King or his son who said it. Just bare with me if I put the wrong name, or even better, send me an email telling me who did say it and I'll fix it. R&R!