Word: Oblivious
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII (Turks)
Pairings: None.
Rating: G? PG, perhaps?
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all its indicia, characters, etc. are not mine. They belong to SquareSoft, Square Enix and Tetsuya Nomura, who brought these characters to life in the first place. Mew.
Summary: In the midst of a war, they wait. (AU - may turn into a continued story.)
They sat in the grey, dingy rooms that made up the safe house complex in Junon's gallery district. Outside the shuttered window, they could hear the whiz and then the crash as shells came raining down from another sector.
The two that sat in the chair didn't pay any of the activity outside any heed, even as the chess game they were playing rattled on its table from an impact half a block away. The pieces slid a bit to the right side, leaving their designated squares. A rook toppled. Tseng picked it back up in a smooth, unruffled motion even as a shriek reached their ears.
Across from him, Elena fidgeted nervously. "It sounds as if there's a war going on out there."
Tseng shrugged, the folds in his blue suit following the motion of his shoulders perfectly. Undisturbed, like the rest of him.
Biting her lip, she tried to distract herself by shoving the pieces back onto the board with one finger, trying not to open the blinds to sate her curiosity. Tseng eyed her with the cool gaze he had worked at and perfected over his years in Shinra's elite. She was still young, this rookie. Green around the gills, not yet fully ready to take her place in the small band of men that called themselves the Turks.
He supposed that was why there were here in the first place. He had sent Rude and Reno out an hour ago. They had not come back, a fact which didn't really bother him, but which seemed to be eating the blonde Turk up slowly, even if she tried not to show it. Factor in the small war being waged outside, and he was surprised she hadn't started wearing an impatient groove in the floor earlier.
They were here as... a safety measure. This civil unrest that raged on the streets right now would eventually burn itself out. In the meantime, he had been ordered to wait. And so he would wait. He was nothing if not good at executing his orders to the letter.
Another rattling shook the walls, and this time there was no salvaging the game as the small table it was set on rattled ferociously and sent the pieces jolting off, scattering off into different directions across the hardwood floor. Tseng sighed.
Elena immediately moved to recover the pieces, but Tseng stopped her, placing a firm hand on her arm. She reddened slightly, though to her credit, she managed to hide any other evidence even while meeting his unfathomably black gaze.
"Leave it. I'll make some tea. Would you like some tea?"
She nodded mutely, placing the pieces she had picked up back onto the table. "Yeah.
Do you need any help?"
Tseng smiled a bit. "If you can find the teabags, I'm sure I can boil some water for us."
They abandoned the table, even as another rattle sent the pieces she had picked up spilling onto the floor again, the black and white pieces scattered like a mosaic on the scuffed wood.
Notes: Like I said, this was written as a writing exercise for the LiveJournal community 15minuteficlets. Aside from the glaringly obvious spelling errors, this has been left unedited. I'd been toying with the idea of turning this into a longer fic, but I'll be honest with myself. I'm still working on Cardcaptor Hermione (yes, it lives), and I'm kind of happy with writing shorter pieces now.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this humble bit o' story. Comment. Criticize (constructively). :) Feeeed me, Seymour.