A/N: Welcome. Between Blazes Hunk Report, and A Side Project I'm devoted to, I seem to have caughten a touch of Sad and Awesome KH/FF stories. Dunno why. Anyway.
Me and a friend were trying to come up with why Cloud had a bandaged up Buster Sword. And the way he looked. (A Reasonable solution. We know he was supposed to be Vincent.) After some discussion and squee filled moments, we came up with this thing. I hope anyone reading enjoys.
Disclaimer: Face-Runner Does not own Final Fantasy or Any of its Affiliations.
000000000
"How Come your leaving so soon?"
"Y'know those stories our Moms used to tell us before we go to bed?"
"Yeah...the ones where the brave guys become heroes?"
"MmHmm. I've decided to become a Hero too!"
"W-What? You can't be! Its really dangerous, in all those stories?"
"Do you want to be stuck a kid forever, never having any fun? To be free, of rules, of freedom itself?"
"Well...I never actually thought about it. I mean...it'd be nice but, how're we gonna stay in touch? I won't be able to say hi to you or do any of the stuff we do normally!"
"I'll send some postcards. Deal?"
"Okay...Hey."
"Hmm?"
"If you ever...Um... become a hero...Can I follow right behind you?"
The Spiky haired Youth looked at the smaller, spiky haired kid.
"Heheh. Sure!"
Cloud closed the palm of his hand. A small, silver trinket inside of it. The Fighter sighed heavily. This small pendent was all he had left of his best friend.
Five years ago, his best friend in all of the town, and perhaps his only friend, decided to become a hero. Whether Cloud thought it was on impulse, or agitated boredem, he did not know. All he did know, was he had stoped replying a few weeks ago. Mail came regular like through the years themselves, every week came a new postcard. Details on events that had happened, and a photo or two. Cloud felt kind of bad every now and then, as he didn't have alot of exciting news to tell his partner.
He took it all in stride though. Something Cloud felt he had taken granted. They both practically grew up together, as such he had no qualms about it. People had always wondered what happened to him.
They both kept it a secret to not tell anyone.
Cloud sighed again. The small locket was closed, its contents unknown to the world but one person. Only the onwer himself knew what was held inside it, and only he knew how to open it. The blonde seventeen year old didn't mind at all. Kept the memory alive.
KERRSHT! "Hollow Bastion Tram Station Within The Mile. All passengers please gather your belongings. That is all." KSHCKT.
That was the whole reason Cloud was on this trip. To find his friend and figure out what happened. When the mail stopped coming, the Chocobo-Head became worried. He looked to the postal service, but they temselves had no idea either. It all came to a head all that moment in time.
Cloud had resolved to train himself, harshly, and porpously. Day after day, night after night in the Sandlot, he had trained himself. Liberating a sword and a few supplies from a few shops, Cloud had snuck to the Tram station in the dead of night, and payed his fare. It had been atleast an hour on the train itself, and he would be at his destination soon.
His first objective was to find a place to stay. He had enough Munny to book a room for a few weeks, and during that time, would find out as much as he could.
His second item on the To-Do list was to search for info. See if they knew anything. Or any local news.
One he got those two things out of the way, he would plot his next course of action.
The train stopped at the designated station, people filed out in an almost too orderly fashion. Picking up his belongings, and stepped out over to one of the railings. Peering over, he was met with a sea of people.
"Ah...Man."
The crowd had been nuts. People this way and that clamored to get stalls or shops. Whether it to bid on something, or to buy an antique of the kind, people were everywhere.
This worked to irritate Clouds major pet peeve. Crowds just weren't his thing. He preffered Ghost towns and quiet villages. Sprawling cities, he did not. Like in any throng of people, it was hard to move. And on his opinion, movement was everything in a battle. His best friend had taught him that. No movement, you might as well be a sitting Bite Bug.
Looking for any escape from the mass, he maneuvered towards the right, and was rewarded by stumbling onto an old saloon porch. A wooden one at that. Various holes lined up in some places, dust collected in the corners, forgotten forever, and a few dusty table cloths. Seems nobody's occupied this part of the abode for awhile.
Entering the door wood and glass door, Cloud became welcome and guest with smoke and flickering lights. He coughed for a second into his red muffler. Hefting the black guitar case onto his shoulder, he looked for a second, and saw a bartender sitting glumly on the countertop, arms resting.
Thinking he had found jackpot, Cloud ambled to a ratty red leather seat. A classic bar stool in all its glory. Setting down his bag and case, Cloud folded his hands in a knowing gesture, scanning the bartender.
"Is this a Room and Board establishment?" It seems the bartender was a jumpy fellow. As it looked like the poor man nearly jumped out of his vest. Cloud noticed the tender looked dishevled. Unbuttoned waistcoat, collar free white shirt, and unbuttoned white wrist cuffs.
This guy didn't look professional in the slightest.
"H-Hey. Welcome to our...Well, 'Sailors Anchor' Saloon. I'd offer you something to drink, but our too kind owners wouldn't take to kindly to it."
Cloud rasied an eyebrow. Owners who don't let anybody in? How the hell is that possible?
"How so?" Cloud was curious. This didn't seem like any other Inn right now. The Bartender slapped his goggles upon his forehead for a second, studying Cloud. He finally came to a conclusion when he stopped looking up and down. "Your not from around here, are ya?" Cloud shook his head.
"Well, I guess I better fill in the 411, huh?" The guy cracked his neck for an entire moment, before leaning forward close to Cloud. Cloud leaned in as well. "You've heard of private businesses, right?" The blonde shook his head uncertainly. "Not really no..." Twilight Town had its fair share of businesses, but none that he knew were PRIVATE.
Not to mention, he wasn't exactly Job Savvy. About the only thing he could do with jobs, were putting up posters for the Bi-Weekly and Yearly Struggle Tournaments.
The Bartender spoke again. "See, this group of sailors and dockworkers hang around the Port, right? Seeing as how they work all day, they thought they deserve to have a little comforter to get them through." That didn't seem so bad. "The problem, the gang and their boss, are complete and total assholes." That was a tad different. "The guys don't even let other people in! They just beat'em to a pulp, and just throw'em like ragdolls into the backalley." Now that really wasn't right.
"Why don't any authorites get involved?" Cloud pondered to the Tender.
"The head cheese and the captain of the force are in cahoots. This just doesn't go to this crappy little place, it infests other businesses too. Like a fricken; Mafia I tell ya."
Cloud leaned back. Going over this info. It seems he'd be alot of trouble if he stuck around long enough. "Are there any other Inns around here? I don't want to cause trouble." The Bartender stopped messing with his ear, and looked at Cloud. He shrugged his shoulders. "Hell If I know. Probably. Though, I think the closest one is about six blocks from here."
Cloud sighed deeply. Great. On top of shady dealings, he was scarce a room tonight. "One question though...If people but those guys arent allowed here, how come I'm here, sharing your presence?" The Bartender smiled. "The Sailors arn't gonna be off work for another hour or so I-" The front door to the saloon swung wide open. In walked a gaggle of tall, beefy looking men. Wearing an assortment of uniforms one way or another.
They were talking and laughing as if anything in the world could be off for all they cared. Cloud hastily grabbed his things, fully intent on leaving before anything bad happened.
"Who's this runt?" Too late.
000000000
A/N: Hurr...raaayyy. I'm so haaaapy. Read and Review. Well, atleast Read.