A/N: A short, sweet FFVI story for a change. I don't have too much to say. I enjoyed writing it.
I had a lot of problems with coming up with a title so I sent it to my beta using the "working title." She said it was okay the way it was, so...I kept it. Not like I had any better ideas :'D
Green.
Conspiciously, disturbingly green.
People stared. Some openly, some taking little peeks when they thought I didn't notice. I couldn't decide which was worse. It took me some time to realise the reason they barely could take their eyes off me, but...one day in South Figaro, I was waiting for Locke and Edgar to return from the item shop, enjoying the warm rays of sunshine. I was only slightly aware of the people's eyes on me as they passed by until a child of about five years of age came to me and asked in a bright, loud voice:
"Why is your hair like that?"
His mother came running to the scene, apologising and smiling at me, but I felt like she secretly wanted to ask the question herself.
That's when I started to look around me.
Locke didn't have green hair, nor did Edgar or Sabin. I had seen so many people in Narshe, Figaro and the Returners' hideout and none of them were the same as me. Blond, auburn, chestnut brown, greyish white, even raven black. Never green.
People really stared a lot.
I became more self-conscious. I disliked crowds. I didn't like seeing new people because I couldn't help noticing how they stared at my hair before looking me in the face.
It was night at the Returners' hideout but I couldn't sleep. So much had happened in such a short time.
"I heard she wiped out 50 imperial elite soldiers in mere minutes," had Banon said.
"She doesn't remember a thing," had Edgar said.
I wanted to say I had no idea, that I could never do something like that. But even though I couldn't remember, I knew that the leader of the Returners was speaking the truth. My body remembered all too well how to kill.
Finally I got out of my bed and took a candle with me. I wandered to the empty hall, sat down in the big dining table and fiddled with a combat knife I had taken from my room.
There were a lot of things about me that were wrong but I decided to start by changing the most obvious one.
My left hand held my hair in place while my right hand willed the knife upwards and a revoltingly green lock fell to the floor. I could barely see it in the dim candlelight. It felt good. I took a hold of another wisp of hair and brought the knife closer when someone caught my hand from behind, snatching the knife from me with their nimble fingers.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I turned around and looked up to Locke's deep brown eyes. I still couldn't read people's facial expressions perfectly but I could see he was curious and...something else I didn't quite recognise.
"I'm cutting my hair," I said simply. No reason to try to hide it.
"I can see that," he said, taking a seat next to me and putting the knife on the table beside the candle. "But why like this, all alone in the middle of the night? And it's not like the knife is exactly made for the job."
I bit the inside of my cheek. I hadn't planned to be caught in the act.
"I don't like it. It makes me stick out too much," I explained vaguely.
"That wasn't really an answer to my question but alright." He tapped his boot twice, thoughtfully, before looking at me again. "I'll have to disagree, though."
"About what?"
"Of course it's up to you what kind of a hairstyle you want but I think it's great the way it is now. It's unique, like a rare jewel. People are naturally drawn to unusual things, though they don't always know how to deal with stuff they aren't used to." He paused and I looked at him blankly. "Look, I'm a Treasure Hunter, so I should recognise a worthwhile treasure when I run into it!" He smirked at me, poking his chest with his thumb for emphasis. I wondered – was he trying to cheer me up?
"A normal girl would probably smile in a situation like this," I thought and turned the corners of my mouth upwards, surprised at how it was much easier than before. It was probably not a very radiant smile but Locke noticed it anyway.
"Good, that's the spirit," he beamed at me. "Let's both get back to bed, okay? Decisions made while brooding in the dark are usually bad ones, trust me." Locke stood up promptly and took both the knife and the candle with him. I followed him to the bedrooms obediently, feeling a bit silly but essentially much better than a few minutes ago. I climbed to my bed and felt fatigue strike immediately. As Locke bid me good night, I let sleep take over, carefully cherishing the slight smile on my lips.
I woke up when I heard someone knocking on the door.
"Miss Terra?" It was one of the Returners, he had been guarding the entrance when we had arrived to the hideout.
"Y-yes?" I quickly jumped out of the bed and put on my shoes. Having to sleep in day clothes could be convenient at times. "Come in!"
The wooden door opened to reveal a tall man in his early thirties. "We're about to begin the meeting. Banon wants to see you before that, so..."
"Yes, I'll be there soon. Just a moment..."
The door closed again and I sat down on the edge of my bed. I couldn't help being a little embarrassed that I was the last one up, but at the same time I felt oddly...energized. Like I had just slept years' worth of fatigue away. I glanced at a dusty mirror on the wall to see if I was presentable and was immediately reminded of the previous night. I touched the spot where I had already cut. You couldn't see the difference unless you knew to look for it, but to me it felt like something was missing there.
"...Treasure..."
On my way to see Banon, I passed the hall with the big table. There was everything from animal bones (leftovers from numerous dinners) to smelling socks under the table but the green lock of hair had disappeared.
A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you'll leave me a word or two. (Praise is great and suggestions for improvement are awesome!)