Author's Notes – This one is definitely not going to be a funny or heart-warming entry. Never the less, I hope it still resonates in some shape or form with you all (or at least those who bother to review).
(Prompt: The Hero's End)
The picture.
In her hand, he stared back at her from a point frozen in time, one taken roughly a year ago. It wasn't a candid shot, just one he had to take to update his Garden photo ID, a photo for which she had to bribe the hired photographer to send the picture file just so she could develop it into a regular photo back then. It wasn't the most comforting of photos, but it was the closest thing she had to one at the moment.
He — the commander, the world's saviour, the revered hero and now...the victim.
In the back of her mind, Rinoa should have been prepared to deal with this, fully aware of the risk involved with falling in love and growing attached to someone who could easily be here the one day and gone the next.
But this was different.
This was far from going on a mission and coming home in a casket.
He was already at home, probably in the midst of getting ready to go to bed from Dr. Kadowaki's estimated time of death and his state of dress described in the coroner's report. He did not die valiantly in battle, from any complication from a long-past injury or even from a successful assassination attempt.
Squall Leonhart had died from a complication from an undiagnosed heart condition.
It was the bitter irony that Rinoa wasn't prepared to deal with.
He was a fit and healthy twenty-four year-old who had undergone regular check-ups and physicals for the past twelve years or so – how could have something so vital had slipped through their fingers?
Not like any answers they could offer would matter, Rinoa bitterly thought, answers only help the living, those who could maybe get a second chance.
The raven-haired woman tucked the photo away in her pocket, testing out her brave face in front of the fridge's highly reflective metal finish before she'd have to go outside of her apartment and take the train to Balamb Garden for the funeral.
Her reflection showed a calm, blank expression with a touch of tiredness on her features. It was a passable brave face though she wasn't sure how long it would remain adequate as she found herself taking out the photograph and sticking it on her fridge with a small magnet. Rinoa studied his face only to find similar features staring back at her and for some perverse reason, she let out a small chuckle after she'd taken a step back and let herself lean against the opposing countertop.
"...I guess I can't bug you with that joke about married couples starting to look like each other since we never did get the chance to marry." she quietly tried to joke. "But it's okay. I'll still bring it up if you ever decide to visit me in a dream. I'll even let you roll your eyes at me."
Although she knew that the photograph wouldn't say anything back to her, it didn't make a difference to her as she sighed.
"I know that I should be the first person to know that you were only human but, I just...didn't expect you to go this way, Squall. You deserved better than what you got, you always did — in life and...I guess in death too."
Rinoa stopped herself before she said anything else — not only to avoid offending him further should he be listening to her from the otherworld, but also because she'd realized that there had been a grain of undeniable truth buried somewhere inside her irrational lament.
While his death was not one befitting of a world saviour's or of a SeeD mercenary's, it was still his in the end, no matter how anti-climactic it had been. And in spite of all the titles surrounding his name, he was only human beneath it all.
And when the tears started to form in the confines of her eyes, Rinoa made no effort whatsoever from stopping them from cascading down her cheeks to her collarbone.
Like him, she too was only human.