ADVERSARY
North Corel, 05 N.C.E.
Her arms were wrapped so tightly around his torso, fists balled between his shoulder blades. It was somewhat difficult to breathe comfortably, but comfort wasn't his top priority at the moment. He most likely deserved whatever came of her reaction.
Crono was leaning against a support pole, sharing possibly the most emotional moment of two lives with a girl he barely knew.
It sounded like she had stopped crying, her face buried in his chest, somewhat awkwardly above the bullet hole in his shirt, to his observation. He was sure, however, that she most likely didn't notice. He had put his jacket around her, covering the bare arms that her red shirt had left exposed to the early March breeze.
His chin resting on the crown of her head, he maneuvered his eyes from left to right, up and down the platform at the station. It was empty as far as he could see, no train having come in or left since the one he was supposed to have left on an hour ago. He didn't want to move to look any further down the tunnel, partly because he was afraid he might budge her, and partly because he didn't want to lose contact with her.
Please don't ever leave me.
She had cried to him, as soon as he reached her after his cataclysmic leap from the train.
You're all I've got.
And to that, he had said nothing. There was nothing to say to something like that. He knew she didn't want a sappy answer. Although their time together had been very limited, he knew that wasn't their style.
But she was serious. And her words made him think.
She's right.there's no one else anymore.
They had no friends, no family, no places to call home. They were mere ghosts of who they had been, the only two in the world who could feel each other's pain after their ordeal.
But within the confusion and sadness, there still lay a somewhat positive notion. They had nothing except each other, drawing them closer in a bare, unobstructed way. There would be no more fights, no danger, no constant strain upon the will.
There is beauty in loss.
The saying he'd been consoled by his elders following his father's death reemerged in his mind. Maybe it wasn't just one of those things people said to try and make you feel better.
Maybe it's kind of true.
He swayed her slightly, side to side, returning her constrictive embrace with one arm, slowly touching her hair with the other. It had been something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd first met her, but never got the chance to, given their rocky situation.
A stupid, almost inappropriate smile crossed him. Perhaps it was just nervous release, he thought at first, but he couldn't deny the feeling heaviness he'd felt for so long starting to ease up. He'd made himself so miserable in the past, he guessed it was only fair that he be allowed some levity.
We might even get to know each other.
A mental joke. He still could make them. He wasn't cracked beyond repair after all. What the hell. They could be just fine in a little while. They could get back in the car and drive until the tank was empty and then find someplace to stay and stay there forever and never come face to face with that which nearly destroyed them both ever again. They didn't need anyone or anything.
It isn't our fight anymore.we've done our time.
He still wished he'd had the chance to kill Sephiroth, but it was something he'd come to live with. Right now, he didn't feel the anger. He didn't want to slash his captor up in a homicidal rage. He didn't want revenge.
I don't hate myself anymore.
I don't really hate anything at all.
It took nearly dying (again) to wake him up from what he'd become. He'd survived more than man was meant to survive, but he hadn't handled it well at all. He'd taken it out on himself and those around him. He hadn't been the best in the world at coping with post-traumatic stress.
But it was okay now. He had a feeling that things would work out. They would move on, start over. Part of him wished he'd just met her minutes ago, yet he knew that there were some things about the past that not even he himself could change. Accepting it was something one needed to figure out on one's own.
"Hey." he whispered, so as not to startle her, ".you all right?" She loosened her grip on him, wiping her eyes on his shirt. She lifted herself back a bit, looking up at him. They stared for a moment; then she sank back into his chest with a weak sigh.
"You're a huge fucking jerk, you know that?" she mumbled, her cheek pressed against his collarbone.
He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. She looked up.
"But you're my jerk.okay?" It was almost like she was pleading with him.
"Okay."
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The room went in and out of focus.
The ceiling, floor, and walls were punching at him.
The moonlight glinted off hair, lips, tongue.
Wind from the open window cut through his hair, piercing the hot air around them.
Their eyes glowed; pulsing in unison.
Adrenaline rushed; like the fight of their lives.
Everything was spinning; spiraling into a deathly sharp point.
Bleak memories of addiction.they gradually stripped away.
They had discovered a cure.
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The water was really cold.
It rushed over his clothed body as he lay slumped in the open shower, growing less and less sleepy by the second. He blinked his eyes a few times, his vision clearing from the shock of the freezing blast. Still to groggy to move however, he could only turn his head lazily from side to side.
She was standing by the sink, toothbrush in hand, fully dressed, looking halfheartedly into the mirror.
"You.uh.what am I doing in here?" he rasped, startling her a little bit. She smiled after a second, taking the brush out of her mouth.
"mmph eemmph ah-." she paused after realizing she still had toothpaste in there. Seconds later, she continued, with a giggle "sorry.just had to lead you in here to wake you up, which is near impossible. We need to get outta here before they realize we're in here."
The fact that they'd never paid for the room dawned on him again. It was something he hadn't considered when they'd snuck in through the window the night before.
"What time is it?" he asked. She checked her watch.
"Just before five.it's a residential inn, they don't check rooms for housekeeping before eight, at least."
"Why didn't we check in like normal people, again?"
"We don't have money for that, dummy. We've only had enough for some food and your.you know." It hurt her to think of what had happened last evening at the train station. He could see it on her face.
"Speaking of food." he murmured, changing the subject. Tiredness had just about left his being. She perked up.
"If we get outta here without the people that run this place noticing, then we still have enough for breakfast and we have the car.and if we need more cash, then I can.improvise."
He grabbed the stall shelf and pulled himself to his feet, clothes and hair dripping with chilled water.
"You mean you can pick some poor guy's pocket?" He said, leaning forward toward her.
"Oh, he probably deserves it. Besides, we saved the world. To the winner the spoils." She gloated, returning his lean, their faces quite close. He sighed wistfully with a smirk.
"So this is ninja love, eh?"
"You got it." She said, beaming, leaning closer still.
"Great.so, what do I do about these clothes?" He looked down at his black Yakuza get up.complete with bullet hole in midsection area.
"Ah, we'll grab you something to wear before we leave, come on, it's just water." She said. He grinned.
"Cool, so you can join me then." And he grabbed her around her body and yanked her back toward him before she could move away.
"Hey! I didn't say.what the fuck, let me out!" She flailed like a cat in a swimming pool. He laughed hysterically.
"Come on, it's just water!" He mimicked her, over and over, until she stopped squirming and accepted the clammy hug under the spray.
"You are a jerk." she muttered.
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The little café was cozy enough; one middle-aged waitress tended to the customers while the morning news murmured on a black and white television screen in the corner of the room. Checkered tablecloths quaintly adorned the tables with a rural ambiance. It was a nice place, they concluded.
"Know why this breakfast is so good?" He said to her between chewing his eggs and drinking his orange juice.
"Why's that?" She asked over her stack of pancakes.
"'Cause we're eating it on our own free will." He responded. They both chuckled.
"Here's to independent thought, baby." She clinked her glass off his, setting it back down. By this time he'd nearly finished his meal, while she was still on her first of three cakes. He'd always eaten fast, he'd explained, it enabled him to eat more without getting full, which is why, he reasoned, he checked in at six-foot-four.
"No Mako therapy, no psionically-induced slave labor." he went on.
"No more zombie stuff." she continued.
"No more acting like we don't notice each other."
"No more fights."
"Unless we feel like it."
"Exactly." She grinned.
"If he comes back we'll fuck him up, but hell, otherwise.we're done with this shit."
"Yeah.I've just about had it."
"Me too.ready to be normal."
"Think we can be normal again?"
"Well, I guess it depends on what you think normal is."
"I mean, like." She trailed off, kind of frustrated and disappointed sounding for some reason.
"Were we ever normal?" He posed the question, feeling a bit philosophical. She fell silent for a moment.
"I guess not." she said, almost mournfully. He knew he was striking a nerve, but he didn't know enough about her to know where.
"Well, I'm sure well figure something." he started to say, but her words interrupted him.
"It's funny.all my life I've always been weird.kinda outcast. Me and my dad always fought, all the court nobles thought I was a loser.I knew they all wished I'd died and not my brother." She said, somberly, but still in control of her emotions. She looked him in the eye. "I guess I like what I do, making my own way, my own rules.but I really just want to belong somewhere, you know? I just wanna.have a normal life to come home to, you know?" He knew that they were both trying to avoid what happened at the train station last night. It was painful for her to say such words to him. She hadn't said them for as far back as she could remember.
"It's strange.we look at our pasts to describe who we are. I grew up poor as hell. My dad died before I was old enough to understand anything. All the junk I made up about him was just stuff I'd tried to cover up the pain with. I'd say, oh, yeah, he was a great fighter, a great man, blah blah blah. I learned to fight just like him. Bullshit. All of it. I don't think my father ever even picked up a sword once. He was freaking farmer, for God's sake. I learned to fight cause I was pissed. I was pissed of at the world, pissed off at life. I knew this guy who made swords named Melichoir. I'd always hang around and ask him questions about warriors and swordsmen. One day I talked him into giving me one of his wooden long swords, you know, the kind that armored knights use? Yea, so he gave me one, but when he saw me try to use it, he told me I swung it with the fury of a Kensai. So you can assume the rest. He gave me a kendo, yeah, you know, a wooden katana. He drew up a few sword forms on scrolls for me and gave me some books on Bujistu.yeah.what they used to call unarmed combat back in the old days. Anyway, he musta felt sorry or something, cause he put all that time into the stuff he did for me for free. I couldn't have paid him.anyway.I guess what I'm trying to say is, I tried so hard to disguise what happened because I thought who I was depended on what my situation had been, but it turns out, now that I accept that, I'm cool with it. I wished things could've been different, but they turned out like they did and.now I'm having coffee and breakfast with a beautiful girl.I guess I'm doing okay, hm?" he concluded his speech.
She sort of understood what he was trying to tell her. Stylistics weren't really that important at the moment. A smile touched her face after a pause.
"Well if that's your logic, then, hey.I can live with that."
"So don't worry about what happened in the past, we can do whatever we want now. You wanna be normal? Hey, we'll be as normal as cold cereal and milk." He reassured her, lightheartedly.
"You wanna know something funny?" She asked, eagerly.
"What's that?"
"I'm only half Wutaise." She said, like a schoolgirl sharing gossip.
"Really? Didn't know that.guess I still don't know as much about this world as I should."
"Yeah. My mom was a journalist from Midgar during the war. They met, and hit it off.then she died giving birth to me and my brother.my dad kinda always spited us for that.me especially cause I was the one she lost it with." she explained, a little uneasily.
"Damn."
"But, you know, I'm not embarrassed about it.not with you, at least." they were intimate words.
"Don't be. You shouldn't be." He reassured. She nodded.
"Last night was something, huh?" she blurted with a nervous laugh. His eyes widened a bit from the outburst.
"Well, hey, sure.I mean, yes.hell yeah." He started out unsure, but then concluded with an awkward smile. They both laughed moments later.
"Well then here's to many future last-night-like experiences." She toasted him again, bringing him to raise an eyebrow.
"I thought we toasted to normalcy?"
"That was my orange juice glass, silly. This is a coffee mug."
"Oh.well then, by all means." he agreed.
"Totally." They continued on with their breakfast after Crono ordered seconds, sparing their rapport for warm food.
Until one of them happened to notice the small crowd standing in the corner, diligently watching the television screen.
"What's so interesting that it could hold up the hostess, waitress, and cook in this town?" he wondered aloud.
"Dunno.fire maybe? Crop prices falling?"
Her assumption was immediately disproved upon the sight of brigades of armored infantry marching through the city streets of Midgar.
"What in the hell.Yuffie, look at this." He unconsciously wiped his face off before standing up and walking over toward the crowded set.
"Hold up, I'm coming."
".five-thousand regiment under Five-Star General Blake.General?" the reporter asked.
"We've taken the appropriate measures to secure the city from invasion from the forces of Guardia, formerly minions of Sephiroth himself. Our men are ready, willing, and capable to meet any challenge they may be met with."
"Sir, have there been any plans made for a preemptive strike on the rival nation?"
"Well, I cannot answer that in the interest of national security, but I can assure that all measures possible to ensure homeland security will be taken, preemptive or countermeasure."
"Has there been any civilian resistance thus far?"
"Well, naturally, and completely understandably, some were alarmed, but no real problems were faced during the initial occupation. However, it brings me great sadness to say that the man we'd counted on to help us most of all has had other ideas. Mr. Cloud Strife received an earnest plea for assistance this morning, and acted belligerently. When we tried to calm him, he.had an outburst of aggression. I know it sounds major, but it's most likely a product of his psychological instability over the years. Whatever the case, he did injure several men and is now in the process of being apprehended."
"I'm sorry, sir.Cloud Strife? Are we speaking of the same man here?"
"Yes, I'm in as much shock as you are. I hope we can get to the root of this terrible tragedy as soon as possible. He was a great man to have on our side."
The denizens of the café stood in silence. Most couldn't believe it. Cloud? The local boy done good? The savior of the planet? AWOL?
Yuffie touched Crono's shoulder.
"I can't believe this." she said, in a hollow voice. He didn't hear her.
You can't go back, Crono.
You promised it was over.
You promised her.
You promised yourself.
It's not your fight.
You did your time.
You can't go back.
You can't.
He looked at her, in all sincerity. He opened his mouth to tell her the inevitable.
"I know." she said.
"I have to. I owe him.my life."
"We have to."
"No, you can't. It's too."
"Bullshit. You promised we'd stay together."
"But this is different."
"No it's not. If anything bad happens to you, then it's gonna happen to me, too."
"Yuffie, I couldn't forgive myself if you."
"I can handle myself. You know that. And you're not the only one who owes Cloud." He couldn't argue with her. As much as he had his doubts, she was going, whether he liked it or not. He'd promised her, after all.
"There's some gear at the mansion we can use.then we can probably hop a ferry back to Midgar."
"That'll take days. We need something faster."
"There.is that helicopter on the mountain."
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He braced her with one hand on each arm as she cried silently, looking down at the still bodies of her former friends. Then, at last, he turned away. Some things you just needed to be left in silence to cope with.
It wasn't fair. Shio and Mia were two kids, just like them, only younger, less involved, bearing more of a future, dead on slabs. For what? He couldn't answer that. Such was the nature of unfairness.
They had to move quickly. There was no telling what Cloud and the others' situations were, but one thing was for sure: wasted time would be deadly. He swiftly moved through the equipment piles, designating the essential and discarding the auxiliary. Climbing harnesses were extremely useful for both climbing treacherous things and economically storing equipment. They were like full-body utility belts.
He armed light but efficient. Two low-density handguns slid into the holsters at his thighs. He slung Chi/Shio's sleek, compact submachine gun over his shoulder, letting it almost conceal itself below his arm, and fastening it to his chest. He clipped his belt harness nearly full of 9mm magazines. One could carry too many guns, but one could never have enough ammunition. The last compartment he used for a roll of medical tape. It seemed feeble, but it prevented further horrendous ripping in whatever wounds he might receive.
Finally, came the last piece of his arsenal. He gently removed a sharkskin- gripped titanium katana from the shelf in the makeshift training hall. It wasn't his prismatic blade, but it was a damned good piece of workmanship. He hadn't touched a sword in weeks. A few strokes and stances got the rust out of his joints, however, and he soon tied it to his belt in its scabbard, blade facing up, as all traditional katana were worn.
He passed a mirror on the way out of the hall. In reality, it was a one- way window to the study on the other side, but all he saw at the moment was the man staring back at him.
The top half of his black mesh bodysuit looked like a normal piece of clothing, and the bottom was covered by his loose, flowing tan pants. His hair somewhat grown in, his headband fixed on his forehead, he looked like a hybrid of two different worlds. Part warrior, part assassin. Part traditional, part chillingly cutting edge. It was fitting, he decided. It was the best self-analysis he'd given yet.
When he returned, he found both bodies covered. Yuffie was suiting up as well, fighting to keep herself composed. She wasn't doing too bad. Most of the girls he'd known wouldn't have been able to get themselves together so quickly. Frivolous as she could be, she was equally tough.
In silence they headed out toward the staircase, only stopping once.
They looked wordlessly upon the woman in the capsule by the stairs. Her brown hair swung in gravity-free motions. Her limbs hung limply. She looked deathly deprived, but still peaceful.
"I could break her out." he said, monotone.
"She'd die.you have to be taken out slowly.we don't have any of the activation codes.he said something about time-release, but he was babbling about it happening in the Hour of Revolution or some shit. We'll get her out though. We just."
"I know."
"Let's do this." They bowed their heads in sad respect, and started up the stairs.
In their hurries, they'd failed notice the small LCD screen on the side of the capsule near the wall. It read:
23:35:15.
23:35:14.
23:35:13.
23:35:12.
THE END
Part Twenty-Five
North Corel, 05 N.C.E.
Her arms were wrapped so tightly around his torso, fists balled between his shoulder blades. It was somewhat difficult to breathe comfortably, but comfort wasn't his top priority at the moment. He most likely deserved whatever came of her reaction.
Crono was leaning against a support pole, sharing possibly the most emotional moment of two lives with a girl he barely knew.
It sounded like she had stopped crying, her face buried in his chest, somewhat awkwardly above the bullet hole in his shirt, to his observation. He was sure, however, that she most likely didn't notice. He had put his jacket around her, covering the bare arms that her red shirt had left exposed to the early March breeze.
His chin resting on the crown of her head, he maneuvered his eyes from left to right, up and down the platform at the station. It was empty as far as he could see, no train having come in or left since the one he was supposed to have left on an hour ago. He didn't want to move to look any further down the tunnel, partly because he was afraid he might budge her, and partly because he didn't want to lose contact with her.
Please don't ever leave me.
She had cried to him, as soon as he reached her after his cataclysmic leap from the train.
You're all I've got.
And to that, he had said nothing. There was nothing to say to something like that. He knew she didn't want a sappy answer. Although their time together had been very limited, he knew that wasn't their style.
But she was serious. And her words made him think.
She's right.there's no one else anymore.
They had no friends, no family, no places to call home. They were mere ghosts of who they had been, the only two in the world who could feel each other's pain after their ordeal.
But within the confusion and sadness, there still lay a somewhat positive notion. They had nothing except each other, drawing them closer in a bare, unobstructed way. There would be no more fights, no danger, no constant strain upon the will.
There is beauty in loss.
The saying he'd been consoled by his elders following his father's death reemerged in his mind. Maybe it wasn't just one of those things people said to try and make you feel better.
Maybe it's kind of true.
He swayed her slightly, side to side, returning her constrictive embrace with one arm, slowly touching her hair with the other. It had been something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd first met her, but never got the chance to, given their rocky situation.
A stupid, almost inappropriate smile crossed him. Perhaps it was just nervous release, he thought at first, but he couldn't deny the feeling heaviness he'd felt for so long starting to ease up. He'd made himself so miserable in the past, he guessed it was only fair that he be allowed some levity.
We might even get to know each other.
A mental joke. He still could make them. He wasn't cracked beyond repair after all. What the hell. They could be just fine in a little while. They could get back in the car and drive until the tank was empty and then find someplace to stay and stay there forever and never come face to face with that which nearly destroyed them both ever again. They didn't need anyone or anything.
It isn't our fight anymore.we've done our time.
He still wished he'd had the chance to kill Sephiroth, but it was something he'd come to live with. Right now, he didn't feel the anger. He didn't want to slash his captor up in a homicidal rage. He didn't want revenge.
I don't hate myself anymore.
I don't really hate anything at all.
It took nearly dying (again) to wake him up from what he'd become. He'd survived more than man was meant to survive, but he hadn't handled it well at all. He'd taken it out on himself and those around him. He hadn't been the best in the world at coping with post-traumatic stress.
But it was okay now. He had a feeling that things would work out. They would move on, start over. Part of him wished he'd just met her minutes ago, yet he knew that there were some things about the past that not even he himself could change. Accepting it was something one needed to figure out on one's own.
"Hey." he whispered, so as not to startle her, ".you all right?" She loosened her grip on him, wiping her eyes on his shirt. She lifted herself back a bit, looking up at him. They stared for a moment; then she sank back into his chest with a weak sigh.
"You're a huge fucking jerk, you know that?" she mumbled, her cheek pressed against his collarbone.
He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. She looked up.
"But you're my jerk.okay?" It was almost like she was pleading with him.
"Okay."
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The room went in and out of focus.
The ceiling, floor, and walls were punching at him.
The moonlight glinted off hair, lips, tongue.
Wind from the open window cut through his hair, piercing the hot air around them.
Their eyes glowed; pulsing in unison.
Adrenaline rushed; like the fight of their lives.
Everything was spinning; spiraling into a deathly sharp point.
Bleak memories of addiction.they gradually stripped away.
They had discovered a cure.
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The water was really cold.
It rushed over his clothed body as he lay slumped in the open shower, growing less and less sleepy by the second. He blinked his eyes a few times, his vision clearing from the shock of the freezing blast. Still to groggy to move however, he could only turn his head lazily from side to side.
She was standing by the sink, toothbrush in hand, fully dressed, looking halfheartedly into the mirror.
"You.uh.what am I doing in here?" he rasped, startling her a little bit. She smiled after a second, taking the brush out of her mouth.
"mmph eemmph ah-." she paused after realizing she still had toothpaste in there. Seconds later, she continued, with a giggle "sorry.just had to lead you in here to wake you up, which is near impossible. We need to get outta here before they realize we're in here."
The fact that they'd never paid for the room dawned on him again. It was something he hadn't considered when they'd snuck in through the window the night before.
"What time is it?" he asked. She checked her watch.
"Just before five.it's a residential inn, they don't check rooms for housekeeping before eight, at least."
"Why didn't we check in like normal people, again?"
"We don't have money for that, dummy. We've only had enough for some food and your.you know." It hurt her to think of what had happened last evening at the train station. He could see it on her face.
"Speaking of food." he murmured, changing the subject. Tiredness had just about left his being. She perked up.
"If we get outta here without the people that run this place noticing, then we still have enough for breakfast and we have the car.and if we need more cash, then I can.improvise."
He grabbed the stall shelf and pulled himself to his feet, clothes and hair dripping with chilled water.
"You mean you can pick some poor guy's pocket?" He said, leaning forward toward her.
"Oh, he probably deserves it. Besides, we saved the world. To the winner the spoils." She gloated, returning his lean, their faces quite close. He sighed wistfully with a smirk.
"So this is ninja love, eh?"
"You got it." She said, beaming, leaning closer still.
"Great.so, what do I do about these clothes?" He looked down at his black Yakuza get up.complete with bullet hole in midsection area.
"Ah, we'll grab you something to wear before we leave, come on, it's just water." She said. He grinned.
"Cool, so you can join me then." And he grabbed her around her body and yanked her back toward him before she could move away.
"Hey! I didn't say.what the fuck, let me out!" She flailed like a cat in a swimming pool. He laughed hysterically.
"Come on, it's just water!" He mimicked her, over and over, until she stopped squirming and accepted the clammy hug under the spray.
"You are a jerk." she muttered.
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The little café was cozy enough; one middle-aged waitress tended to the customers while the morning news murmured on a black and white television screen in the corner of the room. Checkered tablecloths quaintly adorned the tables with a rural ambiance. It was a nice place, they concluded.
"Know why this breakfast is so good?" He said to her between chewing his eggs and drinking his orange juice.
"Why's that?" She asked over her stack of pancakes.
"'Cause we're eating it on our own free will." He responded. They both chuckled.
"Here's to independent thought, baby." She clinked her glass off his, setting it back down. By this time he'd nearly finished his meal, while she was still on her first of three cakes. He'd always eaten fast, he'd explained, it enabled him to eat more without getting full, which is why, he reasoned, he checked in at six-foot-four.
"No Mako therapy, no psionically-induced slave labor." he went on.
"No more zombie stuff." she continued.
"No more acting like we don't notice each other."
"No more fights."
"Unless we feel like it."
"Exactly." She grinned.
"If he comes back we'll fuck him up, but hell, otherwise.we're done with this shit."
"Yeah.I've just about had it."
"Me too.ready to be normal."
"Think we can be normal again?"
"Well, I guess it depends on what you think normal is."
"I mean, like." She trailed off, kind of frustrated and disappointed sounding for some reason.
"Were we ever normal?" He posed the question, feeling a bit philosophical. She fell silent for a moment.
"I guess not." she said, almost mournfully. He knew he was striking a nerve, but he didn't know enough about her to know where.
"Well, I'm sure well figure something." he started to say, but her words interrupted him.
"It's funny.all my life I've always been weird.kinda outcast. Me and my dad always fought, all the court nobles thought I was a loser.I knew they all wished I'd died and not my brother." She said, somberly, but still in control of her emotions. She looked him in the eye. "I guess I like what I do, making my own way, my own rules.but I really just want to belong somewhere, you know? I just wanna.have a normal life to come home to, you know?" He knew that they were both trying to avoid what happened at the train station last night. It was painful for her to say such words to him. She hadn't said them for as far back as she could remember.
"It's strange.we look at our pasts to describe who we are. I grew up poor as hell. My dad died before I was old enough to understand anything. All the junk I made up about him was just stuff I'd tried to cover up the pain with. I'd say, oh, yeah, he was a great fighter, a great man, blah blah blah. I learned to fight just like him. Bullshit. All of it. I don't think my father ever even picked up a sword once. He was freaking farmer, for God's sake. I learned to fight cause I was pissed. I was pissed of at the world, pissed off at life. I knew this guy who made swords named Melichoir. I'd always hang around and ask him questions about warriors and swordsmen. One day I talked him into giving me one of his wooden long swords, you know, the kind that armored knights use? Yea, so he gave me one, but when he saw me try to use it, he told me I swung it with the fury of a Kensai. So you can assume the rest. He gave me a kendo, yeah, you know, a wooden katana. He drew up a few sword forms on scrolls for me and gave me some books on Bujistu.yeah.what they used to call unarmed combat back in the old days. Anyway, he musta felt sorry or something, cause he put all that time into the stuff he did for me for free. I couldn't have paid him.anyway.I guess what I'm trying to say is, I tried so hard to disguise what happened because I thought who I was depended on what my situation had been, but it turns out, now that I accept that, I'm cool with it. I wished things could've been different, but they turned out like they did and.now I'm having coffee and breakfast with a beautiful girl.I guess I'm doing okay, hm?" he concluded his speech.
She sort of understood what he was trying to tell her. Stylistics weren't really that important at the moment. A smile touched her face after a pause.
"Well if that's your logic, then, hey.I can live with that."
"So don't worry about what happened in the past, we can do whatever we want now. You wanna be normal? Hey, we'll be as normal as cold cereal and milk." He reassured her, lightheartedly.
"You wanna know something funny?" She asked, eagerly.
"What's that?"
"I'm only half Wutaise." She said, like a schoolgirl sharing gossip.
"Really? Didn't know that.guess I still don't know as much about this world as I should."
"Yeah. My mom was a journalist from Midgar during the war. They met, and hit it off.then she died giving birth to me and my brother.my dad kinda always spited us for that.me especially cause I was the one she lost it with." she explained, a little uneasily.
"Damn."
"But, you know, I'm not embarrassed about it.not with you, at least." they were intimate words.
"Don't be. You shouldn't be." He reassured. She nodded.
"Last night was something, huh?" she blurted with a nervous laugh. His eyes widened a bit from the outburst.
"Well, hey, sure.I mean, yes.hell yeah." He started out unsure, but then concluded with an awkward smile. They both laughed moments later.
"Well then here's to many future last-night-like experiences." She toasted him again, bringing him to raise an eyebrow.
"I thought we toasted to normalcy?"
"That was my orange juice glass, silly. This is a coffee mug."
"Oh.well then, by all means." he agreed.
"Totally." They continued on with their breakfast after Crono ordered seconds, sparing their rapport for warm food.
Until one of them happened to notice the small crowd standing in the corner, diligently watching the television screen.
"What's so interesting that it could hold up the hostess, waitress, and cook in this town?" he wondered aloud.
"Dunno.fire maybe? Crop prices falling?"
Her assumption was immediately disproved upon the sight of brigades of armored infantry marching through the city streets of Midgar.
"What in the hell.Yuffie, look at this." He unconsciously wiped his face off before standing up and walking over toward the crowded set.
"Hold up, I'm coming."
".five-thousand regiment under Five-Star General Blake.General?" the reporter asked.
"We've taken the appropriate measures to secure the city from invasion from the forces of Guardia, formerly minions of Sephiroth himself. Our men are ready, willing, and capable to meet any challenge they may be met with."
"Sir, have there been any plans made for a preemptive strike on the rival nation?"
"Well, I cannot answer that in the interest of national security, but I can assure that all measures possible to ensure homeland security will be taken, preemptive or countermeasure."
"Has there been any civilian resistance thus far?"
"Well, naturally, and completely understandably, some were alarmed, but no real problems were faced during the initial occupation. However, it brings me great sadness to say that the man we'd counted on to help us most of all has had other ideas. Mr. Cloud Strife received an earnest plea for assistance this morning, and acted belligerently. When we tried to calm him, he.had an outburst of aggression. I know it sounds major, but it's most likely a product of his psychological instability over the years. Whatever the case, he did injure several men and is now in the process of being apprehended."
"I'm sorry, sir.Cloud Strife? Are we speaking of the same man here?"
"Yes, I'm in as much shock as you are. I hope we can get to the root of this terrible tragedy as soon as possible. He was a great man to have on our side."
The denizens of the café stood in silence. Most couldn't believe it. Cloud? The local boy done good? The savior of the planet? AWOL?
Yuffie touched Crono's shoulder.
"I can't believe this." she said, in a hollow voice. He didn't hear her.
You can't go back, Crono.
You promised it was over.
You promised her.
You promised yourself.
It's not your fight.
You did your time.
You can't go back.
You can't.
He looked at her, in all sincerity. He opened his mouth to tell her the inevitable.
"I know." she said.
"I have to. I owe him.my life."
"We have to."
"No, you can't. It's too."
"Bullshit. You promised we'd stay together."
"But this is different."
"No it's not. If anything bad happens to you, then it's gonna happen to me, too."
"Yuffie, I couldn't forgive myself if you."
"I can handle myself. You know that. And you're not the only one who owes Cloud." He couldn't argue with her. As much as he had his doubts, she was going, whether he liked it or not. He'd promised her, after all.
"There's some gear at the mansion we can use.then we can probably hop a ferry back to Midgar."
"That'll take days. We need something faster."
"There.is that helicopter on the mountain."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------
He braced her with one hand on each arm as she cried silently, looking down at the still bodies of her former friends. Then, at last, he turned away. Some things you just needed to be left in silence to cope with.
It wasn't fair. Shio and Mia were two kids, just like them, only younger, less involved, bearing more of a future, dead on slabs. For what? He couldn't answer that. Such was the nature of unfairness.
They had to move quickly. There was no telling what Cloud and the others' situations were, but one thing was for sure: wasted time would be deadly. He swiftly moved through the equipment piles, designating the essential and discarding the auxiliary. Climbing harnesses were extremely useful for both climbing treacherous things and economically storing equipment. They were like full-body utility belts.
He armed light but efficient. Two low-density handguns slid into the holsters at his thighs. He slung Chi/Shio's sleek, compact submachine gun over his shoulder, letting it almost conceal itself below his arm, and fastening it to his chest. He clipped his belt harness nearly full of 9mm magazines. One could carry too many guns, but one could never have enough ammunition. The last compartment he used for a roll of medical tape. It seemed feeble, but it prevented further horrendous ripping in whatever wounds he might receive.
Finally, came the last piece of his arsenal. He gently removed a sharkskin- gripped titanium katana from the shelf in the makeshift training hall. It wasn't his prismatic blade, but it was a damned good piece of workmanship. He hadn't touched a sword in weeks. A few strokes and stances got the rust out of his joints, however, and he soon tied it to his belt in its scabbard, blade facing up, as all traditional katana were worn.
He passed a mirror on the way out of the hall. In reality, it was a one- way window to the study on the other side, but all he saw at the moment was the man staring back at him.
The top half of his black mesh bodysuit looked like a normal piece of clothing, and the bottom was covered by his loose, flowing tan pants. His hair somewhat grown in, his headband fixed on his forehead, he looked like a hybrid of two different worlds. Part warrior, part assassin. Part traditional, part chillingly cutting edge. It was fitting, he decided. It was the best self-analysis he'd given yet.
When he returned, he found both bodies covered. Yuffie was suiting up as well, fighting to keep herself composed. She wasn't doing too bad. Most of the girls he'd known wouldn't have been able to get themselves together so quickly. Frivolous as she could be, she was equally tough.
In silence they headed out toward the staircase, only stopping once.
They looked wordlessly upon the woman in the capsule by the stairs. Her brown hair swung in gravity-free motions. Her limbs hung limply. She looked deathly deprived, but still peaceful.
"I could break her out." he said, monotone.
"She'd die.you have to be taken out slowly.we don't have any of the activation codes.he said something about time-release, but he was babbling about it happening in the Hour of Revolution or some shit. We'll get her out though. We just."
"I know."
"Let's do this." They bowed their heads in sad respect, and started up the stairs.
In their hurries, they'd failed notice the small LCD screen on the side of the capsule near the wall. It read:
23:35:15.
23:35:14.
23:35:13.
23:35:12.
THE END
Part Twenty-Five