L'Amour de la Crainte ~ Chapter One

I couldn't remember the last night I had actually slept.

As long as I could recall, every night for close to a month had been interrupted by a vicious nightmare or powerful shiver that awoke me from sleep. It was starting to bother me now -- even though I usually couldn't remember what terrifying dream had swept through my mind, I couldn't seem to shake the noticeable quivering that had begun to manifest itself in my body. And now I was afraid to sleep.

It had to be close to 3:00 in the morning when I jolted into an upright sitting position, inhaling a sharp gasp and casting my blankets off from atop me. I remained in that stance for probably close to 15 minutes, sweating profusely down my flushed face and staring blankly down at the mattress beneath me through the darkness. The only sounds that were audible were the quiet whisper of the breezes wafting through the open window across the room and the hushed breathing of my slumbering bunkmates somewhere around me in the dark. This situation was much too familiar to me.

I slowly slid my legs over the mattress and stood, groggily sauntering my way over to the ajar window and pressing my sweaty forehead up against the cold glass. How long had this been happening? It had to be for close to a year, when I had first enlisted in SOLDIER at 15. Ever since I had left the house...ever since I had come to this goddam campus I had been miserable without sleep. How much longer could it possibly continue? And, more importantly, how much longer could I possibly survive through it?

~*~

"Faster, Avalon, faster!!"

My heart was hammering now, pounding so furiously within my chest that it felt as if my ribcage was being crushed in some sort of tightening vice, and every panting breath that escaped my chapped lips scraped dryly against my throat. I could still vaguely see him -- the tall, stocky man who I knew as Degan Garcia, lieutenant, partially hunched over before me while holding a large yellow punching pad out in front of him. Sweat burned my eyes.

"Avalon, I'm gonna beat your ass!!" he shouted over my loud gasps for air and furious cries each time my fists hit the pad with a muffled smack. "If you fought so sluggishly in a real battle, you'd be dead on the ground right now! Now c'mon -- defensive!!"

I instantly leapt backwards, shifting my weight back and forth between my feet with both fists held up before my face. Several loose strands of wet brunette hair trickled wildly down from my ponytail. He lunged forward, causing me to bend awkwardly to my left side to avoid his attack. He lunged again, this time to the left, and I responded by tilting tightly to the right. Sweat droplets glistened in the phosphorescent light.

"Back on offensive -- one, two!" Garcia backed off once again, holding up his pad, as I instantly switched modes and began to lash out in a consecutive string of punches. "No, faster, I said, dammit!" he bellowed angrily. "Ready -- one two one two one two!!"

My knuckles were completely raw now, and at every contact with the pad a stinging sensation shot across my fist. My legs were burning from the constant weight shift, and the clamp around my chest seemed to have squeezed all the air from me. Jesus, how much longer was he going to make me do this?

"And...time!" Garcia instructed finally, as if able to hear my thoughts. He straightened himself up, sliding the pad off his arm, as I finally hunched over to catch my breath. More sweat spattered to the floor. "....Good," he told me, hitting the button on the stopwatch that hung from his throat. "You lasted ten seconds longer than last time. But your speed is pathetic, Avalon, you should be able to duke out at least eighty punches a minute. And be able to hold that speed for at least fifteen. You will be worked double time until the results are satisfactory, do you hear me, Avalon?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. At ease, then."

I wearily watched after him as he made his way across the gym, towards where a group of teenage males were weight lifting. I struggled to catch my breath for several moments, then huffed angrily. "You stupid asshole," I panted irritably, quietly enough just to ensure that he wouldn't hear me. "I'd like to see you do any better. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. What a prick."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and straightened myself up, shifting the loose strands of hair behind my ear. Dressed only in a sports bra and sweats, the sweat glistening on my stomach and chest almost resembled a glaze of water on glass. That stupid fag. I rubbed at my sore wrists, then shifted my neck from side to side. My lack of sleep was definitely not helping my performance. But how do you explain that to a brainless, heartless jackass?

An amused giggle from behind me brought me to my senses. "Uh oh, busted by Garcia again, eh, Kay?"

I remained motionless for another second or two, catching my breath, then turned to face the entertained-looking blond that strode up beside me. "...Yea, yea, laugh it up," I huffed irritably, wiping away the sweat from my forehead. "Is everyone treated like this, or am I just goddam lucky?"

The girl -- who I knew as one of my good friends named Aimee -- smiled and gave me a reassuring punch on the shoulder. She was a real sweetheart, Aimee, about 5' 6" with long blond hair and sparkling green eyes. She was as old as I was -- sixteen -- and we had been friends ever since we had begun rooming together after joining up to train for SOLDIER. It was kind of funny to think how such a sweet girl was preparing to become a disciplined killing machine. Then again, I guess funny really isn't the word. "Take a number, Kyra," she told me. "I'm thinking of starting a petition to get that guy's ass back out onto the road."

I was still massaging my sore wrists, but I got a laugh out of the mental picture. "...Yea, I'm sure that'd go real far," I replied. "The entire faculty loves him. What a two-faced asshole."

"....Ladies....?"

Both me and Aimee turned at the sound of the voice, and I wasn't surprised to see the tall form of a seventeen year old upperclassman named Gordon Mathers. He was rather difficult to miss -- between his bleach blond hair and unkempt goatee sprouting from his chin, Gordon was the type of guy you'd recognize across town. He was regarded as one of the absolute perfect catches according to most of the female students; however, I had watched Gordon behind the scenes after harboring my own secret crush on him, and away from the eyes of adoring women, he was an absolute dick. Aimee, however, undeniably had the hots for him.

"Hey, Gordon!!" she greeted enthusiastically, almost unnaturally. "How...how are ya?" She seemed to be turning different shades of red.

He put on a rather fake-looking grin, then dramatically flexed his muscles. I wished I had a thumbtack to pop his expanding head. "Just bench pressed 230 pounds and figured you two lovely chicks looked lonely. Either of you available to pop by my dorm at...say...seven o' clock tonight? It's usually empty around then, if you know what I mean...heheh...."

I think Aimee's face had more of a violet tint to it now. Hell, I would have been perfectly amused to sit back and just watch her. "...R...Really?" she stammered breathlessly, lifting her hands to her cheeks. Yea, that's it, play hard to get. Jesus. "W...well, if...if you don't mind, I'd....I'd absolutely love to!!"

Gordon beamed again, then directed his vision over towards me. "How 'bout you, Kyra?"

"Huh?" I cast a surprised glance over at him, unable to conceal my confusion. I didn't even know he knew my name. "...H...hey, didn't you hear Aimee? She said she'd go."

He flashed me his straight white teeth again. "Well, the more the merrier, I always say..."

I think I blushed slightly, because my face felt hot. "H....You wait just a --"

I was silenced as the gym door flew open with a loud bang, and simultaneously all heads turned to face the source of the noise. Even Gordon ceased his flirting to whirl about, and I shifted myself slightly to the side to glance over his shoulder.

Standing before the doorway was a tall, muscular young man, with long silvery hair held back by the nape of his neck in a loose ponytail. He wore a tight black jumpsuit, which most men wore when working out, that truly emphasized and magnified his already conspicuous muscle and bone structure. He was one of the most amazing sights I had ever seen -- he couldn't have been any older than Gordon, though his incredible height and chiseled expression made him appear older, and although he wore a wooden facade of somberness and ice, I could see he was noticeably handsome, with a pair of enigmatic blue-green eyes that I had never seen anywhere else. He stood motionlessly at the door to the gym for several moments, entirely aware of everyone's flabbergasted stares, then took several gradual, heavy steps into the room.

Instantly the other students began to shift to either side, clearing him a path and whispering among themselves. "Sephiroth...." I heard Aimee rasp from somewhere beside me. "Here we go again....Oh crap, he looks kinda pissed off today, doesn't he....?"

"I'm...I'm not sure..." I whispered back, unable to remove my eyes from Sephiroth's tense form. "He never exactly seems to be in a good mood, does he...?"

I think deep down I felt sorry for him. He really didn't have a past, as far as anyone knew, and his seemingly cold and malevolent nature drove everyone away. He had no friends, no one he liked to be around, even though he didn't exactly seem to hate his solitude, and day after day I heard rumors of how the league of ShinRa scientists that were constantly around would sit and take notes as they watched Sephiroth perform physical tasks, and how he was always subject to some sort of test. I had also heard that he had unbelievable, almost inhuman strength, and though I had never seen him in real action, I had caught glimpses of him sweeping up sand from broken punching bags. Sure, I suppose I did feel sorry for him -- but I'd be damned if I ever went within twenty feet of the guy.

The other students around him continued to whisper and point as he made his way over to the line of punching bags against the far wall. He had to be aware of all the stares -- hell, how could he not be? -- but he never seemed to really care. Maybe it was because he was used to being watched, or maybe because he knew no one would ever actually mess with him. Whichever the case, he never paid any mind to the hundreds of eyes locked on him all the time.

It took a good couple of minutes to restore the gym to its previous action, after Garcia and several other coaches blew their whistles and began to shout. A murmur began to run through the room, gradually building up to the dull roar of conversation. I finally turned back towards Aimee, shrugging my shoulders, when I noticed that Gordon was gone, already hitting on some other girl that had entered his field of vision. "...Aimee, why do you even bother with that dick? I can't even imagine how many girls will be at his dorm tonight....You're not going, are you?"

She didn't answer for a moment, staring dreamily over at him. "Oh, I don't know..."

"Aimee, Jesus Christ, it's gonna be one huge massive orgy or something!!" I protested. "You can't possibly want to go!!"

She exhaled a quiet sigh, then closed her eyes. "...Kyra, haven't you ever liked someone....?"

"Wh...?" Her question took me completely off guard, and I was still searching for the words to answer with when suddenly a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's got your thong all up in a bunch, eh?"

One quick glance over my shoulder revealed the large yellow teeth of a nineteen year old Landon, a bulky upperclassman who had decided to join SOLDIER as opposed to community service. He was tall and stocky, with a shaved head and hints of a mustache on his upper lip, and if you wanted the perfect example of a flawless asshole, this was it. Even before joining SOLDIER he had been busted for numerous felonies, including dealing drugs and thievery, and after entering the academy there were rumors of rape and unwanted pregnancy. Supposedly Landon scoped out an unsuspecting girl and followed her around until he finally got what he wanted, whether voluntarily or by force. Whether or not such heresy was true, I don't know, but certainly left a lump weighing in my throat.

He flashed me another wide grin, running his tongue over his teeth. "Goin' my way, baby?"

"....I....I don't think so, Landon," I replied shakily, taking hold of his hand and lifting it off my shoulder. "I...I think you should find someone else who is."

He emitted a hearty laugh, too loud and exaggerated to be real. "Aw, I got myself a real comedienne this time, eh? Avalon, right?"

"Kyra," I corrected him, shifting a step backwards. "And I'm afraid I'm really not interested. But I've heard of many others who are. Why don't you--"

"Aw, cut the crap, babe," he interrupted, grabbing hold of my wrist and jerking me back towards him. "What say you and me go mosey on over to the janitors' closet and get a little busy, eh?"

"I said no, Landon," I repeated, yanking my hand away. "I'm not interested. I'm sorry."

"Leave her alone!!" Aimee added shakily. Judging by her hesitation and the way her voice was quivering, I guess she'd heard the rumors as well. But I admired her loyalty and bravery to speak up. "No is no, now please just leave her alone!"

Landon didn't seem quite so amused now. "Maybe you didn't hear me," he said firmly, grabbing onto my arm with a tight grasp. "I said let's go."

"I heard you just fine," I replied, pulling away from him in an attempt to free myself. "Ouch, your hurting me--!!"

"Don't you dare turn your damn back on me, bitch!" he snapped angrily, whirling me back around to face him. "I don't think you know what yer messin' with...!"

"Let go of me!!" I cried, now reasonably frightened. I could hear Aimee squealing something, but I couldn't understand her. "What's the matter with you, let go!!"

I tried to pull away again, but he refused to loosen his grip on my arms. I wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish: I guess he either thought I would give up or he'd be able to drag me kicking and screaming into the closet. But it wasn't like no one had noticed our struggle.

There was a red hot stinging sensation across my left cheek, and after the stars had faded from before my eyes I realized I was on my ass on the floor. It wasn't until I could fell the blood dripping over my upper lip and down my chin that I understood that Landon had struck me, smacking me viciously across the face with the back of his hand. And now I was sitting dazed on the gym mats with a bloody nose.

Landon stood over me, staring down at my confused position on the floor through fiery eyes. "Listen here, you little whore!!" he exclaimed loudly, pointing one threatening finger down at me. As a sidenote, wasn't it because I wasn't a whore that he was all pissed off? Whatever. "You think you're so smart? We-hell, my dear, I guess you learned the--"

At first I wasn't sure what happened next -- his voice was cut unnaturally short, replaced by a muffled cracking noise and stifled chokes. A series of terrified gasps sounded out around me, and I think it was Aimee's voice that was whimpering, "Oh...oh my God...oh my God..."

I emitted a muted cough, shaking my head and swallowing the blood I could taste in my mouth, and with bleary eyes I gradually lifted my vision from the floor. Everything had gone so blurry, hazing together in the phosphorescent light, but it looked like a new figure had stepped before me, standing solidly only a matter of feet from my position on the ground; it also looked like a second figure was there too, except this one appeared to be hovering several inches above the floor.

Aimee's raspy whimpers continued behind me: "Oh my God...oh...oh my God...!"

The choking sound was continuing also, like someone gasping desperately for air. The second figure, the one above the floor, looked as if he was clawing at his throat.

A loud whistle blew from somewhere across the gym. "God dammit!!" a voice shouted -- Garcia's? -- and suddenly a third blurry form entered my vision. "No, no, stop it -- let go of him, for Christ's sake, before you kill him! Let go, I said--!!"

I watched in dulled shock as the airborne figure was sent crashing heavily to the floor, landing painfully on his side and still choking for breath. I could hear his voice now, cracking with tears: "...N...no...!! Was...was wrong wi' you...!! Could...coulda killed me...! No...!!!"

For Christ's sake, was that Landon? Crying like a baby? Though my vision had not fully returned to me, I could definitely recognize the sobbing voice as Landon's, and it seemed so hard to picture his as the violent pervert who had struck me only moments before.

But who in the world could have done such a thing? Who could have strutted up all of a sudden and humbled that bastard like that?

I could finally see again; the first thing I noticed right off the bat were the shocked, vacant faces of the students that now stood around me in a wide semicircle, moving glances back and forth between Landon's screaming form on the floor (was that him shrieking for his mommy? Oh, to have a tape recorder...!) and someone who was hidden behind Garcia's raving form.

Who was it? Goddammit, you asshole, will you move?

I cast another startled glance at Landon, still writhing and wailing before me, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and immediately noticed the blood on my skin.

"...can't believe this -- someone call the damn hospital wing!!" Garcia was yelling, and two students instantly left the semicircle and ran for the door. "Tell them we've got two goddam students in need of medical assistance, pronto!" His voice dropped to a stifled mutter, which sounded awfully like a consecutive string of curses, and finally overcome by his anxiety he began to pace restlessly across the floor.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

Standing where I remembered seeing the stern, muscular figure before my vision returned, was Sephiroth, watching indifferently after Garcia as he scuffled to and fro across his path. He was even more incredible up close -- I could truly see the trained, dangerous muscles appearing through his jumpsuit, and his engulfing height, several inches over six foot even though he wasn't any older than 17. His face -- so stoic and impassive, with his unnatural blue green eyes and refined features -- showing no hint of worry of guilt. He stood immobily in place, as if chiseled from a marble block.

Him? Was he the one who had stepped in and stopped Landon? But how? And what the hell for?

For some reason, I couldn't pull my eyes away from him. I was in total disbelief -- I had never said two words to the guy, never even been near him -- what could have possessed him to step in on my behalf? I wanted to speak up, wanted to ask him, wanted to express my shock -- but my lips seemed unwilling to form any words, and the next thing I knew two hands had slipped beneath my armpits, lifting me up and sweeping me away towards the hospital wing. My eyes remained locked on Sephiroth until the gym doors swung closed and I was being carried down the hallway.

I spent the night in the hospital wing. I still didn't get any sleep -- I was awakened several times during the night, and I could never get any more rest. Even though I couldn't remember the specifics of each nightmare, I did recall blood, and the mesmerizing, indifferent eyes belonging to Sephiroth.

~End of Chapter One ~