'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He stood in the dark, dank alley. Refuse from the passing of innumerable people
littered the ground around him. It was cold day. Though packed close together with
the other ShinRa soldiers, he could still feel the winds chill. It bit at his face no
matter which way he adjusted his mask. It found its way into small fissures and
openings in his uniform, always there, always nagging, always.
"Fine mess we've gotten ourselves into, eh, Kaj?" one of the nearby soldiers
elbowed him. He recognized the voice of his friend, Skitter. Friend was not quite the
correct term. A casual acquaintance he had happened to know for 16 years. Nothing
more. Skitter prattled on, "I sure hope I don't get point."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Kaj thought back to when he first met Skitter, in a disreputable pub in the
smoke-filled underbelly of Junon harbor. He was younger, then. Besides the patrons
themselves, the barkeep himself was usually drunk as well, which made purloining a
few gil from him a simple venture. Skitter apparently saw the ease too, for he was
working the very same pub a very week after Kaj began his thieving. Kaj always
suspected Skitter of jealousy of his fine work and constantly warred within himself
over when he would confront his would-be successor.
Kaj was far too docile for such thoughts, however, and so contented himself in
becoming 'acquaintances' with the other drifter. They would work together,
sometimes, once even robbing the very pub they frequented in their youth. Still,
Skitter was only an acquaintance. And as an acquaintance, Kaj thought him easy to
be disposed of. Unfortunately, this was not to be so.
A shout from his commanding officer brought Kaj back to the present, "Form it
up, men," his voice sounded muffled from beneath his mask, "they were seen
heading this way."
They. The infamous they who had caused so much. trouble? No. Annoyance?
No. Discomfort. Discomfort at being marched all over the world in search of this
renegade group, this AVALANCHE. Discomfort at this biting chill.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He had seen them once. Or, one of them anyway. The man with the blond, spikey
mane. It was soon after he had joined the ShinRa army to escape the acquaintance
Skitter. Skitter was not to be outdone. He, too, joined the army and some divine
comedian had seen fit to place them in the same company. Kaj began to think he
hated Skitter. He decided that wasn't it, and, instead, strode upon on air of
indifference toward his comrade.
He and said comrade were in the middle of a marching drill in the upper streets
of Junon. The upper streets. The air. The sun. Kaj had twirled his machine gun in
the same fashion so many times, he feared the bullets within would not know which
way to exit when commanded to. Instead of dread, the thought filled him with
mirth. Mirth from firing at an enemy and looking over to suddenly see his bullet in
Skitter's abdomen. The blood. so much blood.
Then came the one with the spike hair and gigantic sword. Though wearing a
serious face, the man sauntered by the soldiers as if relaxed. Kaj hated this man.
Hated him for sauntering. Hated him for relaxing. Hated him for.
"Look alive," Skitter's voice intruded upon his thoughts, "Here comes Choco
Earl," Commander Earl was neither a bird nor was he yellow; it always confused
Kaj when he heard the nickname for his commander; he let it pass as he always did,
"We're up front here. Old bastard better not give me point."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Mere hours earlier, Kaj was looking forward to a peaceful day of marching and
twirling his gun for ten hours. Then they had showed up. Descending from the sky
like angels, their arrival was associated more with demons. Kaj and Skitter's
company was rushed out to find them. Word had it that they had gone
underground, into the subway. They were making for the Sister Ray, or the 'really
big kill everything machine', as Skitter so affectionately referred to it. The group
had spilt up, some breaking into the ShinRa building, others causing general havoc
throughout the city. His group had pursued those who entered the building.
They were no longer in the building, however. They were on the streets.
Heideggar and Scarlet, two of the higher-ups had given assurances of
AVALANCHE's defeat. A new weapon of some sort. Oh well. It was not in Kaj's
business to wonder. He had done as told and crowded into the alley with the other
soldiers. Despite the annoying cold, he vowed he would be comfortable as long as he
was not point.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
The commander was a mere two men down the line from Skitter. Next to Skitter
was Kaj. Next to Kaj was 0173. He probably had a name, but calling him 0173 in his
mind was better than finding out his true name and having to talk to him. Kaj's
number was 0175 and Skitter was 0174. Skitter called Kaj by his number once. For
some reason unknown to even himself, Kaj had snapped at Skitter. He had a name.
His name was Kaj. Beyond 0173 was the empty street. Heavy footfalls pounded
some meters away. Pounded towards them.
Choco Earl tapped Skitter on the shoulder without a word. Without a word.
Skitter was not point. He kneeled down as if in thankful prayer, though the military
called it a 'ready crouch'. His gun pointed out into the street. Choco Earl stood
before Kaj and 0173. He lifted his right hand. Kaj's eyes followed that hand through
its half-arc. Watched it fall solemnly through the air. Watched it land on his
shoulder. His shoulder. 0173's shoulder. Without a word, the nameless number back
up a step and crouched down.
"You're point, son."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
As the commander moved to the rear of the line, Kaj nudged his way to the front.
The footfalls were close now.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He cocked and leveled his weapon as a shadow fell across the street. It was a
rather large shadow, he thought.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Kaj moved into the dim light of a streetlamp. The man with the gun-arm seemed
to loom over him. Kaj squeezed the trigger and the bullets seemed to go everywhere
except into the enemy. He resisted the urge to see if one had shot into Skitter.
Then Kaj's chest exploded.
He felt himself falling. He hit something and slid off, continuing the descent. He
had fallen into 0173. As he looked up, Kaj saw an intoxicating woman punch the
man in the jaw and 0173 straightened upright. Then he too, was ripped through
with bullets.
A moment later, the battle was ended. The rest of his comrades, including Skitter
had retreated. The man with the gun arm thundered past his head. The female
deftly made her way through the bodies as well.
Then came the spikey-haired one. Relaxed. Sauntering. He could see it. He
thought he saw the man with the huge sword turn and grin at him, mocking him.
What little life that was left within Kaj burned in rage. Then, the spikey- headed one
was gone, and Kaj's rage flew from him. In its' place was something Kaj rarely felt.
He felt relaxed. Peaceful. He felt himself get up. Yet he was still lying down. He
was going up. Up. Up. Up. Sauntering through the sky.
***
ShinRa company four came upon two bodies from another company. Quickly
they ran past, knowing the terrorists were near. Hamin ran with his head down. He
looked at the bodies distantly. He saw one was marked 0173. Another was 0175.
Hamin didn't care.
Hamin had no time to consider this.
Hamin was preoccupied with one thought.
He ran on, this one thought pervading his senses.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He stood in the dark, dank alley. Refuse from the passing of innumerable people
littered the ground around him. It was cold day. Though packed close together with
the other ShinRa soldiers, he could still feel the winds chill. It bit at his face no
matter which way he adjusted his mask. It found its way into small fissures and
openings in his uniform, always there, always nagging, always.
"Fine mess we've gotten ourselves into, eh, Kaj?" one of the nearby soldiers
elbowed him. He recognized the voice of his friend, Skitter. Friend was not quite the
correct term. A casual acquaintance he had happened to know for 16 years. Nothing
more. Skitter prattled on, "I sure hope I don't get point."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Kaj thought back to when he first met Skitter, in a disreputable pub in the
smoke-filled underbelly of Junon harbor. He was younger, then. Besides the patrons
themselves, the barkeep himself was usually drunk as well, which made purloining a
few gil from him a simple venture. Skitter apparently saw the ease too, for he was
working the very same pub a very week after Kaj began his thieving. Kaj always
suspected Skitter of jealousy of his fine work and constantly warred within himself
over when he would confront his would-be successor.
Kaj was far too docile for such thoughts, however, and so contented himself in
becoming 'acquaintances' with the other drifter. They would work together,
sometimes, once even robbing the very pub they frequented in their youth. Still,
Skitter was only an acquaintance. And as an acquaintance, Kaj thought him easy to
be disposed of. Unfortunately, this was not to be so.
A shout from his commanding officer brought Kaj back to the present, "Form it
up, men," his voice sounded muffled from beneath his mask, "they were seen
heading this way."
They. The infamous they who had caused so much. trouble? No. Annoyance?
No. Discomfort. Discomfort at being marched all over the world in search of this
renegade group, this AVALANCHE. Discomfort at this biting chill.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He had seen them once. Or, one of them anyway. The man with the blond, spikey
mane. It was soon after he had joined the ShinRa army to escape the acquaintance
Skitter. Skitter was not to be outdone. He, too, joined the army and some divine
comedian had seen fit to place them in the same company. Kaj began to think he
hated Skitter. He decided that wasn't it, and, instead, strode upon on air of
indifference toward his comrade.
He and said comrade were in the middle of a marching drill in the upper streets
of Junon. The upper streets. The air. The sun. Kaj had twirled his machine gun in
the same fashion so many times, he feared the bullets within would not know which
way to exit when commanded to. Instead of dread, the thought filled him with
mirth. Mirth from firing at an enemy and looking over to suddenly see his bullet in
Skitter's abdomen. The blood. so much blood.
Then came the one with the spike hair and gigantic sword. Though wearing a
serious face, the man sauntered by the soldiers as if relaxed. Kaj hated this man.
Hated him for sauntering. Hated him for relaxing. Hated him for.
"Look alive," Skitter's voice intruded upon his thoughts, "Here comes Choco
Earl," Commander Earl was neither a bird nor was he yellow; it always confused
Kaj when he heard the nickname for his commander; he let it pass as he always did,
"We're up front here. Old bastard better not give me point."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Mere hours earlier, Kaj was looking forward to a peaceful day of marching and
twirling his gun for ten hours. Then they had showed up. Descending from the sky
like angels, their arrival was associated more with demons. Kaj and Skitter's
company was rushed out to find them. Word had it that they had gone
underground, into the subway. They were making for the Sister Ray, or the 'really
big kill everything machine', as Skitter so affectionately referred to it. The group
had spilt up, some breaking into the ShinRa building, others causing general havoc
throughout the city. His group had pursued those who entered the building.
They were no longer in the building, however. They were on the streets.
Heideggar and Scarlet, two of the higher-ups had given assurances of
AVALANCHE's defeat. A new weapon of some sort. Oh well. It was not in Kaj's
business to wonder. He had done as told and crowded into the alley with the other
soldiers. Despite the annoying cold, he vowed he would be comfortable as long as he
was not point.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
The commander was a mere two men down the line from Skitter. Next to Skitter
was Kaj. Next to Kaj was 0173. He probably had a name, but calling him 0173 in his
mind was better than finding out his true name and having to talk to him. Kaj's
number was 0175 and Skitter was 0174. Skitter called Kaj by his number once. For
some reason unknown to even himself, Kaj had snapped at Skitter. He had a name.
His name was Kaj. Beyond 0173 was the empty street. Heavy footfalls pounded
some meters away. Pounded towards them.
Choco Earl tapped Skitter on the shoulder without a word. Without a word.
Skitter was not point. He kneeled down as if in thankful prayer, though the military
called it a 'ready crouch'. His gun pointed out into the street. Choco Earl stood
before Kaj and 0173. He lifted his right hand. Kaj's eyes followed that hand through
its half-arc. Watched it fall solemnly through the air. Watched it land on his
shoulder. His shoulder. 0173's shoulder. Without a word, the nameless number back
up a step and crouched down.
"You're point, son."
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
As the commander moved to the rear of the line, Kaj nudged his way to the front.
The footfalls were close now.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
He cocked and leveled his weapon as a shadow fell across the street. It was a
rather large shadow, he thought.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'
Kaj moved into the dim light of a streetlamp. The man with the gun-arm seemed
to loom over him. Kaj squeezed the trigger and the bullets seemed to go everywhere
except into the enemy. He resisted the urge to see if one had shot into Skitter.
Then Kaj's chest exploded.
He felt himself falling. He hit something and slid off, continuing the descent. He
had fallen into 0173. As he looked up, Kaj saw an intoxicating woman punch the
man in the jaw and 0173 straightened upright. Then he too, was ripped through
with bullets.
A moment later, the battle was ended. The rest of his comrades, including Skitter
had retreated. The man with the gun arm thundered past his head. The female
deftly made her way through the bodies as well.
Then came the spikey-haired one. Relaxed. Sauntering. He could see it. He
thought he saw the man with the huge sword turn and grin at him, mocking him.
What little life that was left within Kaj burned in rage. Then, the spikey- headed one
was gone, and Kaj's rage flew from him. In its' place was something Kaj rarely felt.
He felt relaxed. Peaceful. He felt himself get up. Yet he was still lying down. He
was going up. Up. Up. Up. Sauntering through the sky.
***
ShinRa company four came upon two bodies from another company. Quickly
they ran past, knowing the terrorists were near. Hamin ran with his head down. He
looked at the bodies distantly. He saw one was marked 0173. Another was 0175.
Hamin didn't care.
Hamin had no time to consider this.
Hamin was preoccupied with one thought.
He ran on, this one thought pervading his senses.
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'