Sweat mixed with salty tears as they ran down the Turk's cheeks. Shaking hands slid into the messy raven locks, soon gripping them until the knuckles had turned taught and pale with the force used to do so. It was a rare moment for Tseng-to lose control as he was now, that is. Dark, weeping eyes, screwed shut tightly as if he were trying to either block out the images that had just played over in his mind's eye, or if he were desperately trying to claw at the darkness so that he could get them back. So that he could pull her back and into his arms, where she belonged all along.
A scream of agony tore from Tseng's throat, making the smallest of the Turks at the door inhale sharply and jump back away from the scene. The blonde known as Elena had backed into Rude, who was standing just outside the door, his own emotions hidden behind the dark glasses he wore, even when indoors. The boldest of the four, however, decided to step into the room to offer comfort for the elder man.
A mistake he soon regretted, as once Tseng had caught sight of the others presence, he leapt from the bed and struck forward blindly at the redhead. Reno had just enough time to dodge the first punch before Tseng came back around to connect with his upper back. The long ponytail that the redhead wore was the perfect leverage that Tseng needed in order to throw his opponent into the wall. At his current state of agony, he wasn't planning to fight by any sort of guideline, even if Reno was one of his teammates. He soon had him pinned against the stone wall, with his right knee grinding mercilessly into his spine, causing the other to grunt in pain.
"Tseng! What's gotten into you?" Elena had started forward, but Rude was holding her back. Reno was his partner, yes, but even he knew how strong the Wutai man was, and when in a state such as this, he knew it wouldn't be wise to try to reason with him without a considerable distance set between them. Reno grunted from the wall, causing Tseng to direct his attention momentarily away from Elena.
"The hell's wrong with ya, yo? Get the fuck offa me!"
"What are you three doing here?" He mused instead, keeping the gripping hold he had on Reno's arms and back in place, while his dark gaze shifted towards Rude. The dark-skinned male kept his voice as even as possible.
"The President sent us, Tseng. You've been MIA since yesterday morning."
"And you thought to come here...last." His words formed more of an 'are you fucking stupid' statement, rather than a question. "Interesting."
"T-Tseng... why were you dreaming about the flowergirl? Again.." The saddening tone in Elena's voice made one of Tseng's eyebrows quirk upward. It was no secret that the little blonde had been in love with him since before he could remember, but the feelings were not, and would never be reciprocated.
"She's been dead fer a year or so, yo." Reno muttered, but his words ended in a sharp yelp of pain falling from his lips as his already bruised spinal cord met harshly with the metal frame of Tseng's bed. Even Rude's mouth had dropped open slightly at the brash display that Tseng emitted once the subject of the fallen brunette was brought up.
"I swore that I would protect her. I failed her, and worse yet, I have allowed her murderer to walk free, whilst we run around like little puppets for a man who couldn't care less for our safety, or the safety of anyone else but his own." Tseng's words were a result of his pain and anger spilling forth, bubbling over the surface and flooding the damn between reason and hatred. Dark eyes slid to hover over the expression of each of his friends in turn; from Reno who was glaring at him from the bed, with blood running down from his nose and the left corner of his mouth, to Rude, who stood with his shades having slid down just enough to reveal a slight glimmer of fear in his brown eyes, and finally to Elena, who's face was contorted into a strange mixture of sadness, worry, and jealousy. Three friends, each so different in personality, all wanting to help Tseng through his pain.
The best thing that they could do, however, was get out of his way.
"Sephiroth!" Tseng's voice could be heard throughout the barren wasteland. The Wutai man, normally so reserved and quiet, was stalking the seemingly empty land, looking for the ex-General. His hatred for the silverette had blocked out all reason and common sense; all he wanted now was blood shed. Sephiroth's blood. He needed to see the man suffer for the crimes he had committed, not just for the city, but for his own sick revenge as well. There was a part of Tseng that didn't believe he was doing this for the city at all. He wanted to avenge Aerith; he wanted revenge for what it was that had been taken away from him so quickly, and so mercilessly. He wanted Sephiroth to die.
"Come out here, you fucking coward!" He called out again. Tseng held in his hand the one weapon that he had always chosen to use: a simple gun that packed a powerful shot. It wasn't the most practical choice to use against the silverhaired abomination, but Tseng's practicality had pretty much been smothered along with his common sense.
"Aren't we a bold one," the smooth voice that came from behind the ravenhaired Turk made his blood ice over and the hair on the back of his neck stick straight up. The voice that struck fear into the hearts of so many throughout Midgar. The monster whom had smiled as he tore his world apart. Sephiroth.
Tseng's blood soon started to boil as he turned around to meet his fate. The fallen angel, as Elena had so often referred to him, was standing there with a smug look of knowing written across his face. Even now, as Tseng gripped the gun between shaking fingers, the man mocked him. He truly was a monster. One who needed to be destroyed. "Die," Tseng had muttered just before he lunged forward at the man once again. This was no mirage; this was real. This was his moment of truth. Kill or be killed.
The first shots that Tseng had fired had been deflected easily by the sword Sephiroth so lovingly caressed and held dearly to the black hole that was his heart. The third, however, had succeeded in sliding through the ex-general's flesh, awarding Tseng with the sickening sound of skin tissue and muscle ripping open. The other didn't seem to be afflicted with the small yet painful wound, however. With a smirk of wicked intent, Sephiroth pushed off of the platform he was perched upon and swing masamune downward, striking at Tseng's left shoulder. The Turk was quick, just barely, and was able to roll out of the way just in time to watch the sword come down to a crashing blow beside him.
"You," Sephiroth spoke with a hint of amusement haunting his voice. "I have seen you before. My curiousity is peaked, however, at why you have sought me out on your own. Perhaps you've discovered some unfinished business with me, or.." Sephiroth rose into the air, slashing down swiftly at Tseng once again. The Turk lifted his arm to fire again, but soon found blistering pain searing through his arm as Masamune slid in deep, and almost through the bone of his forearm. Dark orbs met glistening jade as he peered up at his sword enemy. "Perhaps you hold some connection to the little girl found with the flowers by her side."
Sephiroth's words only added fuel to the fire. Like a moth to a flame, Tseng fell for Sephiroth's trap and wrenched his arm backward to dislodge it from the sword. If he had been at himself, he would have discovered right then that the ex-general was merely playing with him. But why? For what reason? Not that the silverette needed one, of course-Sephiroth never needed a reason for creating the catastrophic disasters that he did. He simply seemed to enjoy watching the world bend and burn around him. What wouldn't bend to his will, was destroyed.
Three more shots were fired into the air, each one directing straight for Sephiroth: One at his chest, another at his shoulder, and finally, one aimed directly for his head. Tseng was awarded once more with the sound of ripping flesh, but unfortunately enough for him, the sound that he had heard was not his mortal enemy being ripped open. It was not the silverette's scream that shattered the otherwise silent air around them. It was not the ex-general that had been thrown into the air like a piece of raw meat and carved like a Thanksgiving turkey.
It was not Sephiroth that was left laying on the stained gravel of the Midgar road, staring up into the sadisticly twisted and gleaming eyes of his attacker, but Tseng instead.
"You are a fool," Sephiroth muttered as he looked down at the cracked expression that the Wutai man wore. "Or, should I say, you were a fool."