Fly showed me Five Chances by Sweet Wisteria - and then Only Five by Izzy-Lawliet - and proceeded to dare me into taking Izzy's challenge (Both did really well with what they had, by the way, and I recommend reading and reviewing them both). Never mind that the last bet didn't work in his favor (the one which I won in the posting of Back Side Story), but I thought it would be fun to just let go and throw all caution to the wind. Hyne knows I needed a break from my job and from trying to come up with goods for Leon's birthday story as well as Fly's. And then there's Gunmetal, but that's neither here nor there...
And the lucky pairing is... err...*cough* Ienzo/Zexion x Zack.
... What? It was bound to happen...
...eventually....
Izzy-Lawliet's challenge rules:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Put iTunes or other equivalent media player on random.
3. For each song that plays, write something related to the theme you picked inspired by the song. You have only the time frame of the song: no planning beforehand: you start when it starts, and no lingering afterward; once the song is over, you stop writing. (No fair skipping songs either; you have to take what comes by chance!)
4. Do 5 of these, then post.
Last Song by Gackt
He looked up at the ceiling, counting the cracks as he saw them. Each crack he recalled having always been there since the house first bore the attacks of the Heartless invasion nine years ago without falling.
His house had survived with scars to tell the tale, just as he had.
He stretched a hand out, reaching up toward those cracks as his mind drifted to other things. He thought back on all the time that had passed, between then and now. He remembered, foggily, a time long ago when that ceiling was strong and unmarked, when he and another had sat under that ceiling together, simply talking and idling time away.
"… Hey?"
"What?"
"Think you could come out and meet me tomorrow? Just for a second?"
"Why? Can't you come over?"
"… I can't say right now."
"Fine, I'll come. Will you wait?"
"Sure. Just come, okay?"
He never made it. That day was the last day left for Hollow Bastion.
As he closed his fist and drew it back, he choked on a sob as he remembered the urgency in his friend's voice.
I'm so sorry…
Trust Me by Nobuo Uematsu
"Ever flew before in your life?"
He looked across the ravine, at where the other man was standing. The latter merely smirked and remained perched on one leg, the other arched back as he balanced perfectly. Behind him was that long white wing shaped like a bird's. And as he stood there, that wing did not move; only stretched out as though it were a solid piece.
"What?"
"I asked, ever flew before in your life?"
He paused to think about it. Finally he shook his head.
The other grinned and offered his hand. "Want to try?"
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Ever done it before?"
"Not once."
"Then I know for sure it's not a good idea."
He did not speak further – there was no comeback in words. Instead, he seemed to just kick off the ground with the one leg he stood on, and launched right at him.
As they met head on, they fell.
Roxas by Yoko Shimomura (In the words of Sweet Wisteria: What are the odds?)
The stars were gone. One by one, they had disappeared from the sky above.
He was down below, staring up at the black sky that had lost so much light. It was nothing more than a flat black shadow that looked back down at him.
Each star was a world, and with each star that was gone, another world was gone with it.
As he spotted one star, he wondered if that was the world he hailed from.
He wondered, to himself, if he would ever go home.
He wondered if he would ever care to try.
Losing a heart did that to a person.
He stopped looking, for there was nothing more he wished to see or remember.
He had a new job to do, as a Nobody.
Nothing else mattered to him.
Nothing…
"Just come, okay?"
Nothing…
On My Way by Corrinne May
His home seemed so far away from where he was, in this alien world that was not that much different from what he was familiar with.
Here in the open wilderness, it was just him and the motorcycle he had managed to find. As he leaned against it – and it against a rocky cliff – he consulted the wrinkled map in his hands. Sitting in between the handlebars, his cup of coffee was turning color in the cold air.
He could no longer remember how long he had been traveling, but as far as he was concerned, if it was a clue toward getting home, he would take it.
He had made a promise to each of them. To the girl he had fallen head over heels for; to the little scared kid that clung to him as his baby brother; to the other scared little boy who looked to him as a hero and leader.
And to the one he had stood by – the one who had learned with him, who knew him, and saw him as no other did.
The one who saw him as just another regular guy… but one he could count on.
The one who was his friend.
He knew he had to go back. He had made that promise, after all.
He turned to the bike and set it right. The coffee was forgotten now.
"Let's get going, Fenrir."
Canon in D Major by Pachebel
The spring rain was coming down gently, washing away the last dredges of snow from the land. Beneath that white ice was new life, fresh and green and waiting its chance to come forth.
He held out a hand, feeling each droplet land upon the surface of his glove. As it pooled, he finally tilted it, allowing that pool to slip away and return to the ground, where it would help the new life along in its way toward its destiny.
The rain came a little more forcefully, changing from a drizzle to a shower. Still, he remained out, just watching all that was about him.
He remembered, foggily, a boy who enjoyed the rain, running about it like a mindless puppy too excited to stop. The memory was a strange one, as he relived moments of that equally strange boy jumping about, catching stray drops of water in his hair and then shaking himself out again, all in the open. Somewhere in that memory, he remembered being there, being ambushed by that wet, happy boy, and being assaulted by sprays of rain water.
It was a strange, strange memory, yet somehow, it made him feel something.
Something… warm. Like light.
It made him feel… what was that feeling again?
Happiness.