Rated T for language, alcohol use, suggestive themes, and any possible sexuality.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Fanfiction you are currently reading.
Theme ( 036 ): Split
: alcarazpaaants
. 分裂 .
Running.
They're running; their legs are streaming past the gravel, past the paths of destruction. They're bleeding; they're hurt. But they're running. Their sight is bleary, their teeth are grit—and they're running.
He's pushing past squad generals, pushing past the injured, and pushing past the innocent. He keeps going, and there is only one goal set in his mind at this very moment.
She's stumbling over fresh corpses', stumbling over the floor grounds, and stumbling over her own legs. She keeps going, and there is only one goal set in her mind at this very moment.
Their chests are heaving, and their legs are crumbling before them. But they can't allow themselves to stop; they keep going.
Throughout the battlefield lies nothing but despair, and nothing but the smell of rust, rotting skin, and salt. There lies a feel of humidity, one equal to the thickness of perspiration in the air. And the sky, the sky is as visible as the sea. But it does not hold beauty.
At one point, she tips forward onto her knees, hands pressed deeply onto her thighs. She's gasping for air, and she's wondering where he is. She's wondering if he came out alive.
At one point, he rams blindly into a ragged corner, body recoiling onto the ground. He's wincing due to his loss of blood, but he's wondering where she is. He's wondering if she saved her own life prior to those in the war.
The nations drag their survivors away from the paths of bloodshed, and they briefly glance at them and ask if they need any assistance. Both shake their head, for they have someone still out there to search for. Someone they have to know is okay.
And so she picks herself up, diving forward towards the eastern cliffs. It's her next stop.
And so he jumps back up, dashing towards the northern range. It's his next stop.
Through the dust and bodies, she sees a spark of blond rippling in the dryness of the air. He sees a faint rosiness bouncing towards his direction.
In an exchange of names, names yelled out to their fullest potential, their bodies clash.
She's alive.
He made it.
And once again, they are reunited.
. 分裂 .
Author's Note: Fear not, Yvette is alive! I realize that it has nearly been a month. I got caught up with God knows what, and then school. School has gotten on my bad side the entire beginning of the semester; therefore, my stories die down with me. My updates will be more frequent again, though. So, I'm sorry for the delay of time, but I am back! As for requests, I'm putting them off as of now. The time for requests will come again soon enough.
This outlook on how I displayed the closure of the currant war raging in the manga ( yes, mild spoiler; best be shutting your eyes . . . ) is practically irrational and not possibly as epic, I know. But for the most part I needed a background for this drabble, and this is what came up.
Yvette's back! Show her some love, eh?