The Joke
Note: This is meant to be short and unfinished-seeming. Well, maybe not on purpose, but I'm not working on it anymore.
Why had I never noticed it before? Looking back at all the times I had sparred with him, the times I had taunted and teased him for the same features I was admiring now. A feeling of wry humor rose before it was crushed by grief and guilt. He's so… so… beautiful.
I finally killed him. I studied the shadows and hollows that were much more visible now as he lay in death. His quick movements, cool façade, and determined eyes could hide the fact no longer.
I had killed him.
Ironically, not with a blade, gun, or fists.
Funny. I had never thought that stress alone could kill a person. Especially not someone like him, I thought mirthlessly.
I stood creakily, sore from kneeling before the coffin. How long had I sat there contemplating my fallen foe? I turned and began walking out of the chapel, avoiding the accusatory glares from black-clad mourners.
I stopped a couple dozen paces from the steps and looked into the branches of a tree. Winter's coming, I noted. The trees were leafless and grey; the equally dark sky seemed heavy and I felt the massive dark promise pressing me into the brown grass.
"A dead day." The voice startled me and I turned to see Quistis. "Even nature is mourning him." Her red-rimmed eyes and pale skin contrasted sharply with the formal SeeD uniform she wore. Despite her exhaustion and grief she pinned me in place with a scowl and glare.
"You killed him. He fought on the side of good and died, but you... you are still alive." Her voice curdled with scorn and disdain. I saw a flash of her white handkerchief and noticed her hands were trembling. Locking her eyes on mine she sent such an intense look of hatred that I was amazed my heart kept beating.
Eyes narrowing further, she spoke again. "You are nothing compared to him." With a final glare she whirled and stalked off.
"I know," I said softly. I finally realized the joke. I was nothing compared to him and nothing without him. He was a better man—fighter, friend, lover, enemy—than I could ever aspire to be. Next to him my only function was to highlight his virtues and prove his superiority. He won, I lost. I betrayed, he was loyal. All my shortcomings and vices only served the purpose of providing a contrast between despicable villain and venerable hero.
Yet even had I not lived in his shadow I still would have been nothing. A nameless, faceless idle spectator living in awe of the newsmakers and overlooked entirely with good reason.
The joke is on me, I understood. Everything I was existed only because it was the opposite. There must be a villain for there to be a hero.