crane
by AAR
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There's a certain magic to this myth, thought Snake from his lounged position against a couch. Ness and Lucas were perched on the arms of the couch with colored paper scattered between the two of them. Yesterday, it had been Red and Toon Link, and the day before that…a childish dream.
(An ancient Japanese legend promises that anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by a crane, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury. This makes them popular gifts for special friends and family.)
He was expected to die in half a month from the FOXDIE virus, which was of course, no surprise to the hardened ex-soldier. It was simply the price for living.
Master Hand had listened quietly to Snake's blunt explanation on his upcoming date with death and had told him the Smashers would be given a break and him a peaceful place to die in.
Everyone was fine with the break, until Snake let the real reason why there was a break slip through his mouth while drunk from the alcohol he had been consuming in copious amounts before. The women overreacted to his little sentiment
(Ha, Wolf! You can—can rant on and on about how dangerous and life-threatening and how short of a life you get while being a hunt—hunter is, I've got a month to live out the rest of my good life!)
and the men had taken it with a good ounce of doubt. Snake? The practically immortal, gruff mercenary dying? The thought was impeccably stupid.
When Snake had disproved their thoughts however, the drunken Smashers had choked him with a (unfeminine, unmanly, but still comforting) group hug. The very next day, Snake was mobbed by sobbing children asking why he would die. Speechless, Snake had let a maternal Peach and Zelda take over, and he had hidden from the angry 'mothers' in a newly discovered alcove.
Comforting weepy kids were not his specialty, and neither was it Peach's surprisingly. Instead it was Zelda who had assured the children's conscience, with a myth no less.
(If you fold a thousand paper cranes by hand, Snake will get better!)
"Should I ask where you will put these one thousand cranes?" asked Snake drily. He watched the pile of colorful cranes grow one by one. Lucas, a twelve year old, glanced down at one of the more uncle-like figures during his stay at the tournament.
"Nah, we can probably hang them up secretly in your room with wire and string," Ness cheerfully replied. Adept fingers folded an orange crane without difficulty.
"There is the possibility we could just scatter them all over the room," suggested Lucas mischievously. A cyan tinted crane was tossed towards the pile.
Snake snapped out quickly, "Over my sick body." Lucas tsked at him patronizingly.
(I've complete faith in this project. The idea is a little laughable and childish, of course, but children suffice on any kind of hope there is.)
The ex-soldier fumbled for the light switch, and when he turned it on, a chaotic maelstrom of lurid colors met his failing eyesight. Six hundred and thirty-five paper cranes were scattered across his hotel room, covering all the tables and surfaces they possibly could.
Hissing at the blinding scene his normally tidy room was in, Snake slammed the door shut and lurched towards a wooden chair not covered with the paper birds. He sighed in relief as he reached the stable piece of furniture, and his spine slumped against the back of it.
A man could tell when his time was up, and Snake knew it was his. He laughed inwardly at his vulnerability, at his own, subconscious dependence on those proposed one thousand cranes. One gloved fist landed on a cream colored paper crane and with a strained intake of breath, Snake smugly said his last words to an empty room, "I'm free."
Author's Notes: MGS4 never, ever happened, and this is admittedly not my best work for an dying character thing. Oh well. Bring on the harsh critics!