The Flowers of Midgar
Prologue
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy Seven, or any lyrics I might use.
This is a simple fanfiction about complex people; i.e. this is part "Shinra" fic, part romance, part adventure, etc. There will be many mature themes dealt with in this fic, that's why it's rated R. If you don't think you can handle reading mild yaoi, excessive violence, swearing, rather long stretches of logic to get from point A to point B, then go away now and find some cheerful little G-rated fluffy thing to waste your time on. There will be little to no fluff in this fanfic.
Read and review, check out some of my other works. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and if you choose to impart some, give me specific examples as to what you would like to see things changed to. Flames are always appreciated, and will be used to cook my dinner and heat my house. I will try to update as often as is physically possible, but I'm a college freshman, and I have a lot of crap to do etc. Enjoy.
They say flowers haven't bloomed in the soil of Midgar in more than a hundred years, when a curse was placed on the city. They say that the "curse" can only be broken when the "ruler" of Midgar gives his heart to someone, when this "ruler" truly loves someone for their self, not money or fame or any other human desire. Not even great sex, although that must always be factored into the equation of any relationship in Midgar. They also say that Santa Claus visits good children every year during Yule.
No one in Midgar believes the "curse" can be broken, but everyone believes in a curse. More often than not they blame their misfortune on it, and say it was caused by a rich man betraying the love of a poor girl from the slums. Don't buy it. It's a lie. There is a curse, and it can be broken, but by the "ruler" loving a girl with a heart of purest ice. It doesn't matter why he loves her, just that he does.
The unfortunate hero of our tale is a young woman, named Hero. Well, her real name was Grace, but everyone called her Hero, because that was what she was to them. She lived in Sector Three, had two degrees from the University of Midgar, and made her living running the highest "quality" bar under the Plate.
By the time she was twenty-five, Hero had lived on both major continents and every town on them, and had opened her bar in Sector Three. She lived above the business and rented rooms to her employees. She had the largest private library in the slums, and she loaned books to anyone who was willing to learn within the confines of the bar. Very rarely were books allowed to be taken outside the building. Hero almost never left the slums, preferring them to the fake glitter of the city above. She was very soft voiced and well learned, she never yelled or needed to, and she never seemed to change. That last was perfectly true: a batch of experimental anti-aging serum she got nicked with during the War saw to it that she never got that first white hair or wrinkle.
Hero had short black hair, eyes the color of warm honey, and a tear shaped scar on her forehead, the mark of a Wutainese exile. That scar meant that she would never have a problem walking through the slums alone at night. It was virtually unheard of for a non-native of Wutai to be given the mark of an exile; it showed the Council of Wutai feared her power, and had felt threatened by her presence. Whenever anyone was rude enough to ask, Hero simply smiled. They never asked again. You see, Hero was incredibly beautiful, and so was her smile, but both were completely devoid of warmth. When Hero smiled at you, the chill that ran up your spine told you more clearly than anything else that you were dealing with a killer. Yes, she was kind to children and animals, but there was a coldness in her that nothing and no one had ever warmed. The Wutainese had seen this, and though they had loved her as one of their own for her love of their ways and skill in battle, they had been terrified by that coldness. She was about 5' tall, with a great figure for her body (in other words, she had been approached more than once for a job at the Honeybee Inn) and was very well toned. She wasn't muscular, just toned, and she worked hard to keep it that way. She hated the thought of actually /looking/ as strong as she was, so she hired people to do the heavy lifting and hauling drunks out of her bar. She loathed needless violence, and was well known to go to the Gainsborough house just to enjoy the flowers. She was famous for being a good enough friend and a terrible enemy, and the people of the slums loved her dearly.
This is the tale of how the coldness in Hero was slowly replaced with a fire of love for someone who actually loved her underneath all the ice, and how that fire burned away the "curse" of Midgar.