Title: The Last 100 Days
Chapter 2: The First Day
Challenge Prompt: Something fell from the sky.
Summary of the Chapter: Look up there. Is it a bird, a plane? It's getting bigger and its got spiky black hair. Does that sound familiar? The sentiment hurts, but I haven't thought to cover it up just yet.
Aerith woke up, after fretful rest had taken away all the smiles and flush, leaving her haggard and pale. She looked at the cracked mirror that served as her only vanity piece. It reflected the night's toll on her. Her hair, messy and wet from sweat, certainly needed to be swept back, uncovering hollow eyes.
She looked at the clock. Usual time, as always. She twisted her hair into its customary plaits, picking up the limp ribbon, worn from use, and tying it expertly round the middle plait. Her heart seemed to twist with the twisted pink fabric, as her nimble fingers fastened it on.
Last night...
It was futile to think it hadn't happened. It had. And it was a fact, anything the Planet said was not false, however whimsical.
She picked up the basket, headed for the door, doubled back to give her foster mother a kiss on the temple, and then left, her pink dress swishing with the morning breeze.
Aerith felt herself jostled through the regular Midgar bustle as ShinRa executives got to their workplace and the rest of Midgar tried to get away from it. She couldn't just stand still in the middle of the road, as much as she would have liked. She hadn't the time to address the issue closest to her heart.
How am I going to tell him that he's going to die?
She got to the church as the bells knelled 8 times. 8 am. Only 16 hours left of this first day. When did time start slipping away so fast? She needed his warmth, his laughter, his smiles, forever. As long as it was him, she'd give anything for that to happen.
The flowers drooped here and there, so she used whatever powers she had to keep their thin stalks healthy. She smiled, a little sadly. This healing used to make her feel happy and satisfied. Now, after Zack had fallen from the roof and filled her heart so fully, it was as if, without him, she would be nothing, like a balloon with hardly enough helium to keep afloat. With him, she was floating amongst the stars and the Lifestream every time.
That's way it was ironic that he hadn't "floated" into her life. He had fallen into it.
Her eyes unconsciously looked to the ceiling, where she'd prevented the carpenter from covering up, to the gaping hole that had brought Zack smashing through boards and landing in her flowers and in her life.
She worked for hours, that could have been just minutes. She felt like ages had passed, ages and eons. Every single scuffed shoe on concrete had her running towards the door and peering outside, only to wave to a little boy, or help a man find his way, or carry groceries for old dears. No Zack.
Finally, her mind screamed in happiness, the shadows of flower and Cetra grew longer and she felt the light of the street lamps get darker. She was happy, elated that the time had passed so fast. But her happiness was immediately caught by dread and misery as she realised hours had slipped by and Zack's last 100 days had gotten shorter by hours.
She was so confused. She wanted time to move faster, so she'd see him faster. But she wanted time to slow down, so the 100 days would drag longer.
What did she want?
All this turmoil of feelings were tamed as the door, softly yet amplified by her want to hear it for so long, creaked and groaned and announced the entry of a certain spiky-haired SOLDIER operative. His bounds were laced with gaiety and her heart lifted and fell at the same time. He was even more handsome than before, yet now, it was as if he had an expiry date after which he would disappear forever.
His final steps and his warm hug were enough to dispel unhappiness for at least a single, bliss-filled minute. She could smell him, sweat from an earnest day's work, excitement, mud caked on leather boots, laughter, gel, respect for his mentor (she had yet to know his name), all these were spun together in a complex beautiful web that fully encapsulated who Zack was.
To think all that just fell from the sky. Even if she was an angel, she doubted she'd have as great luck as she had had that day.
Make it last...
Whether it was the ghostly voice of the ever-haunting Planet, or if it was just her memory kicking back in, it was enough to get her pushing Zack away and stumbling a bit. 100 days. It rushed back to her, and she was trapped again in a maze of feelings and limited time.
Zack was surprised by her sudden actions, and sensed her innate fear of the unknown. He gently took her hand and settled her down on the floor, pulling her to rest her head on his strong shoulder. He felt her soften immediately, and he felt the rush of affection that came with being within a meter of her.
"Zack?"
Her voice had grown stronger, after minutes of silence and peace had tamed the waves of emotions for the moment.
"Yeah?"
"If you-" she choked up a bit, then composed herself, "-had a choice, you wouldn't leave me, right?"
Her eyes were wide and trusting and endearingly fearful for his safety.
"Aerith, even if I didn't have the choice, I'd add it in on the bottom line and then tick it."
She smiled, inhaling deeply the concrete smell of her love. His conviction fooled her for a few minutes that the Planet, maybe, just maybe, had been lying. Then she realised the one thing that could keep them apart, and not even Zack could stand up to it.
"What if," she gulped, "what if it's ShinRa? You can't do anything if they order you right?"
She heard him sigh, and in the seconds of silence later, she had her answer.
"We'll just hope that never happens then." She grinned, with him near her, solid and alive, it was so much easier to deny what would soon come to pass. Then they lapsed into comfortable silence.
Aerith knew she needed to give him something, the first of a hundred little memories she'd remember forever. The last hundred memories she'd have with him. The last hundred sights, sounds, smells, smiles that she'd carry with her as a burden and a blessing. Then she looked at the flowers, the one thing that would last longer than this time, and the idea formed just like that.
An hour later had her and Zack bent over, backs twinging with pain, as their hands worked slowly to weave blades of grass together. Having taught herself to do it, back when she had been young and imprisoned by ShinRa, where the only greenery had been grass, she laced them together almost as fast as her fingers could possibly move.
Zack's hands, on the contrary, were clumsy and slow, but eager to learn as he was, with her small hands guiding his calloused palms, the braid grew longer, till it snaked into a messy pile in her lap.
He tried starting on one of his own even.
"Zack."
"M'doing it right. Right?"
"Zack, no. Remember, three blades, not two." She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as he pouted.
"But it's so much easier to do two..."
"If you want it to look nice..."
He sighed dramatically and returned to their combined braid.
The snapping of grass, which happened when the grass was too dry and the hands were too inexperienced, released the smell she could only describe as 'green' into the air. She carefully stored it in her memory.
Then the church bells sounded 8 times, in a strange deja-vu from the morning. Zack's head flipped up and she could almost see his mind whirring and counting the knells. She didn't want to see him leave, that memory would make this happy one sad. Her eyes closed.
The woven grass was laid down, the rustles and the whispers of grass on wood. She felt him move and the small rush of love as he brushed lips over her forehead. The boots hit the ground, that rhythm that was his. And the final creak of the church door allowed her to sink back into the despair and restless sleep.
The sun rose. The sun set. And the first day was over.
A/N: That makes the first day. Thanks goes out to the above beta/co-writer GoldenShinyWireofHope for her invaluable guidance and advice. And for all the things that were made so much better through them. I'd hug you if it wasn't so inconvenient or awkward.
Moiranne Rose (still not begging, just wishing)
