A/N: Yes, I'm still alive... and I'm terribly sorry about the long delay
in updates. I got rather discouraged by something someone said to me, and
my discouragement developed into writer's block. But, here's the next
chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 4
Deling City was alive with activity, as usual. It seemed entirely unfazed by the incident in Balamb, which was known to be eerily similiar to the one that occured in the city it self. Life still continued as always, and on that particular day, for some, life meant mourning at a ceremony for the dead.
Rinoa stood outside the large chapel in a long black dress and a veil covering half of her face. In her hands she tightly clutched a few peices of folded paper, the finished product of many hours of tears and painful memories.
"Well, it's time for you to go in," Quistis pointed out, checking her watch. She was also dressed in a black dress, as was Shiva.
She nodded in reply. "I know I have to... I just don't want to. If I go in there, I'm going to see that it's really over. That she's never coming back."
"Perhaps we should wait out here for you," Shiva offered. "Now is a time to be with your family. We'll accompany you to the burial."
Rinoa nodded and took a few more steps toward the open doors of the church. "I'll see you all in a little while," she muttered before stepping inside, as slowly as possible. This wasn't something she wanted to face, especially not with everything else that was going on.
A short period later, after the viewing and the reading of the eulogy, the casket was closed, and taken outside to the cemetary, where Rinoa and her family, joined by her new friends, stood before an open grave and waited for it to be lowered inside. First, however, a few words had to be spoken, in comfort to the people in mourning.
Rinoa stood near the front, staring at the hole in the ground with empty eyes. Quistis and Shiva stood at her side, hoping to give her at least a small amount of comfort. Ifrit, who was known to always misbehave in public, was made to stand in the back with Squall, who watched the scene before him with a look of boredom behind his sun shades. He had watched this same ceremony take place twice in his life, and a countless number of times after his death. So much so, that it was almost sickening to him, having to watch people cry and carry on all the time. Having been dead for so many years, he had forgotten what it was like to feel that kind of pain, and now looked on it with a kind of weariness. And standing here now, having to watch it over again for the millionth time, he was growing quite impatient.
"Geez people, it's just death," he muttered under his breath. "It happens everyday."
Unfortunately, his muttering had not been as quiet as he thought, because all talking ceased, and all eyes turned to stare at him in surprise, including a pair of anger-filled brown ones. Before another word could be spoken, Rinoa marched up to him, slapped him as hard as she could across the face, then turned and ran from the cemetary to some unknown destination.
A long moment of silence followed, as everyone was unsure of what to do then. Finally the priest gave a slight sigh, and asked, "Shall I continue?"
An ederly woman with white hair drawn back into a bun stepped forward and nodded her head. "Yes, please do," she said, then glared at Squall. "But perhaps without him."
Squall didn't need to be told twice. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement then left the gate-enclosed cemetary, so that the Heartilly family might finish the burial in peace. Instead, he walked to the front of the church, and slowly went inside, thinking that he would have an oppurtunity to be alone. He was startled to find Rinoa there, sitting alone in the middle row, wiping her eyes.
He didn't speak, but took a seat in the row behind her, somewhat surprised she hadn't noticed another presense in the room yet. He noticed she was staring at the image of an angel in a stained glass window, and leaned forward somewhat, to speak to her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
She jumped at the sudden voice, before turning to confront the speaker. "Oh, it's you," she scowled.
"That's all you have to say to me?" he asked.
"There are a lot of things I want to say. But I'm not going to say them in a church," she explained.
He was silent for a moment, then turned his attention back to the window she'd been looking at. "I remember watching them put that in while they were building the church. The original church, that is. There was a fire about fifty years ago... that window was one of the few things to survive. So they put it back in when they rebuilt the church."
"You were alive when they first built a church here?" she asked. "You lived here in Deling City?"
He nodded, though hesitantly. "Yeah, I lived here in Deling City. It was much different back then, though, from what it is now."
"I would imagine," she said ponderously. "Did you like living here?"
He shrugged, "It was okay. Even back then, it was really busy, though. I never cared for crowded places."
She laughed slightly. "You don't seem like the type that would be. If you didn't like it, why did you stay?"
He looked away from her, "I had my reasons."
She studied him for a moment, then said, "Why don't you ever take them off?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your glasses," she clarified. "Why don't you ever take them off? No one can see your eyes."
"I don't want anyone to see them," he replied.
"Why? Is something wrong with them?" she asked, attempting to snatch his glasses off him.
He batted her hand away, and said, "No, there's nothing wrong with them. I just... like to hide behind them, I guess you could say," he replied. "So leave them alone, please."
"Alright, fine," she sighed. "And you know, I'm still mad at you."
"I expected as much," he replied. "And I guess... just maybe, I'm sorry. I'm just sick of watching funerals. I suppose I've become rather numb to them."
"Makes sense," she replied softly, leaning even further over the back of the bench to be closer to him. "You've seen many of them, I guess. Though, I'm not sure why. Unless you attend you victim's funerals, or something."
"Sometimes..." he admited. "A lot of them at this same church, too."
"Why?" she quetioned. "There are so many... you said you were numb to it by now."
"There was this little girl once," he began. "I never much cared for children, but she... she was an orphan, and had this disease. She practically lived in the hospital... for years she struggled through immense pain, until finally it was time for me to go and get her. And when I did, I felt every bit of pain that she had been through, every bit of fear. She was so scared of dying alone, never knowing what it was like to have a family. And just a few days afterward, this woman came, looking for her. It was her mother... they had somehow gotten seperated. But it was too late. She never got to see her daughter, and her daughter died, never knowing she had a mother... I guess it just got to me. Going to the funeral was the least I could do."
Rinoa looked up at him in surprise. "I never expected you to have even an ounce of sensitivity in your body. I guess I was wrong," she said, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "I'm glad I was wrong, too. But how is it that you felt her pain?"
Squall hesitated for a moment, and was about to speak when the double doors to the church swung open and a young man with spikey blonde hair stumbled in.
"Damn. They weren't kidding about that fall being killer," he muttered, rubbing his head. "Hey!" he called to them. "Is there a Squall Leonhart in here?"
Squall stood from his seat and turned to look at the stranger. "That would be me. Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Chill dude," he replied, putting his hands up in defense. "I don't mean any harm. I was sent here from above!" he announced, walking closer to Squall and Rinoa. "Well... kinda. See, the other day I was walking down the street, minding my own business when-"
"Get to the point," Squall snapped.
He laughed nervously. "Mr. Sunshine, I see. Well, I got shot. And the thing is, I'm not good enough to go to heaven, but not bad enough to go to hell. So basically, I have to earn my angel wings. By helping you, in whatever your mission is."
"Not another one," Squall grumbled, smacking his forehead.
"How did you get shot while walking down the street, minding your own business?" Rinoa asked.
"'Cause I happen to see this stereo in a store window, and thought I could get some good money for it. I would've gotten away with it, too, but that bastard store owner had a shot gun underneath the counter."
"And they're giving you a chance to earn your wings?" Squall asked, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I was gonna sell the stereo to pay for this operation my mom needed but couldn't afford," he explained. "I was told that I did bad things, but had a good heart. That's why I was given another chance."
"Your name?" Squall asked with a sigh. He remembered this guy from the other night, when he'd gone out to catch up on his job.
"I'm Zell, Zell Dincht," he said, extending a hand in Squall's direction. "So what do I have to do to get out of here?"
Squall ignored his hand, and was about to reply when Shiva burst through the doors, follwed closely by Quistis and Ifrit. "Something's happening across town," she explained. "I have reason to believe that Seifer is responsible."
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By the time they arrived across town, the area was already covered with cops and reporters. This time, it was a resturaunt, and the scene inside was certainly one to behold. Tables were overturned, food and dishes spilled onto the floor next to them, glasses were shattered over the short, gray carpet glinting in the faint light from the overcast day outside. Crimson spots stained the walls, windows, and floor and the room stood still, almost as if all the people inside had simply disappeared. And to top it all of, was Seifer's trademark message, scribbled sloppily over the wall.
Squall and the other stood outside the yellow police line, watching as bodybag, after bodybag was pulled out from the entrance.
"I'll have to make a trip to the morgue tonight," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "It's too late to do anything now."
"You could get in trouble for waiting so long," Shiva pointed out. "You've neglected your duties too often."
"Yeah, but what can I do? They should've known I couldn't manage both jobs at once," he replied. "Watching over her," he began, gazing down at Rinoa, "is a full time job. The second I'm not around she's going to get herself into trouble."
"I will not!" Rinoa argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not a baby."
"You might as well be, as much as I have to watch over you," he replied.
"If you weren't already dead..." Rinoa growled, a little louder than she should have. The other people that had gathered there were giving them all strange looks.
"Look at you two!" Quistis exclaimed. "You fight with each other like a married couple. Now we need to get some place where we can rest. We've all had a long day, and there's nothing we can do about this right now."
"Excuse me," Zell interrupted. "I'm still confused. No one bothered to explain any of this to me."
"Well, Mighty Prophetess... since you're so smart, why don't you explain everything to him?" Squall suggested. "In the mean time, we need to find a hotel or something. Looks like I'll be baby-sitting, again."
"You may be the Angel of Death, but that doesn't mean you can get away with teasing me like that, Mr. Leonhart," Rinoa commented. "I'll get you back, when you least expect it."
"Yeah, I'm so scared," he replied.
Quistis shook her head, "Enough, you two. Le'ts go."
As they were walking away, a strange man in a gray trench coat brushed past Rinoa, his hand briefly touching hers. The instant the contact was made, visions began to pass through Rinoa's mind. She saw flashes of a dark room, and in it a man outlined in the vague moonlight as he stumbled toward the door where a tall man in a black coat was waiting, a weapon hidden behind his back. The vision changed, and now she saw an old- style car speeding down the road on a dark, rainy night. It sped past the church, though it appeared slightly different now, and headed toward two boys, who were walking down the sidewalk. At the last moment, the tires slid on the slick road, and headed straight for the two children.
"Rinoa!" a loud voice shouted at her, shaking out of her trance. She suddenly found herself in front the abandoned resturaunt again, surrounded by the concerned faces of her friends. Squall stood in front of her, a hand on both her shoulders from where he had shaken her back to reality.
"What... what happened?" she asked after a moment.
"That's what we were wondering," Squall answered, attempting to release her.
She leaned into him tiredly, laying her head against his shoulder and said, "Let's just get out of here. My head hurts."
"I think there's a nice hotel just a couple blocks from here," Quistis said. "Let's go."
She began walking, and the other's followed behind her, silently. Squall timidly put an arm around Rinoa's shoulders to support her, as she suddenly looked very tired and sickly, then followed behind the others.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly as they walked.
"I'll be fine," she replied. "Why do you care?"
"Business," he replied. "It's my job to make sure you're okay."
"Is that all?"
He nodded. "Of course it is. How could it be anything else?"
Rinoa laughed slightly. "you're not completely void of emotion, are you?"
"Pretty much," he answered.
"I might've been more inclined to believe that earlier, before you told me about how you go to some of your victims funerals because you feel bad for them."
"I feel for the dead," he replied. "Not for the living."
"So when I'm dead, you'll care about me?" she laughed.
He smirked slightly, "Maybe."
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A/N: Well, there's another chapter down. I won't say it's bad... even though I think it is. I apologize, once again, for the delay. I got rather discouraged. Well... until next chapter...
Chapter 4
Deling City was alive with activity, as usual. It seemed entirely unfazed by the incident in Balamb, which was known to be eerily similiar to the one that occured in the city it self. Life still continued as always, and on that particular day, for some, life meant mourning at a ceremony for the dead.
Rinoa stood outside the large chapel in a long black dress and a veil covering half of her face. In her hands she tightly clutched a few peices of folded paper, the finished product of many hours of tears and painful memories.
"Well, it's time for you to go in," Quistis pointed out, checking her watch. She was also dressed in a black dress, as was Shiva.
She nodded in reply. "I know I have to... I just don't want to. If I go in there, I'm going to see that it's really over. That she's never coming back."
"Perhaps we should wait out here for you," Shiva offered. "Now is a time to be with your family. We'll accompany you to the burial."
Rinoa nodded and took a few more steps toward the open doors of the church. "I'll see you all in a little while," she muttered before stepping inside, as slowly as possible. This wasn't something she wanted to face, especially not with everything else that was going on.
A short period later, after the viewing and the reading of the eulogy, the casket was closed, and taken outside to the cemetary, where Rinoa and her family, joined by her new friends, stood before an open grave and waited for it to be lowered inside. First, however, a few words had to be spoken, in comfort to the people in mourning.
Rinoa stood near the front, staring at the hole in the ground with empty eyes. Quistis and Shiva stood at her side, hoping to give her at least a small amount of comfort. Ifrit, who was known to always misbehave in public, was made to stand in the back with Squall, who watched the scene before him with a look of boredom behind his sun shades. He had watched this same ceremony take place twice in his life, and a countless number of times after his death. So much so, that it was almost sickening to him, having to watch people cry and carry on all the time. Having been dead for so many years, he had forgotten what it was like to feel that kind of pain, and now looked on it with a kind of weariness. And standing here now, having to watch it over again for the millionth time, he was growing quite impatient.
"Geez people, it's just death," he muttered under his breath. "It happens everyday."
Unfortunately, his muttering had not been as quiet as he thought, because all talking ceased, and all eyes turned to stare at him in surprise, including a pair of anger-filled brown ones. Before another word could be spoken, Rinoa marched up to him, slapped him as hard as she could across the face, then turned and ran from the cemetary to some unknown destination.
A long moment of silence followed, as everyone was unsure of what to do then. Finally the priest gave a slight sigh, and asked, "Shall I continue?"
An ederly woman with white hair drawn back into a bun stepped forward and nodded her head. "Yes, please do," she said, then glared at Squall. "But perhaps without him."
Squall didn't need to be told twice. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement then left the gate-enclosed cemetary, so that the Heartilly family might finish the burial in peace. Instead, he walked to the front of the church, and slowly went inside, thinking that he would have an oppurtunity to be alone. He was startled to find Rinoa there, sitting alone in the middle row, wiping her eyes.
He didn't speak, but took a seat in the row behind her, somewhat surprised she hadn't noticed another presense in the room yet. He noticed she was staring at the image of an angel in a stained glass window, and leaned forward somewhat, to speak to her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
She jumped at the sudden voice, before turning to confront the speaker. "Oh, it's you," she scowled.
"That's all you have to say to me?" he asked.
"There are a lot of things I want to say. But I'm not going to say them in a church," she explained.
He was silent for a moment, then turned his attention back to the window she'd been looking at. "I remember watching them put that in while they were building the church. The original church, that is. There was a fire about fifty years ago... that window was one of the few things to survive. So they put it back in when they rebuilt the church."
"You were alive when they first built a church here?" she asked. "You lived here in Deling City?"
He nodded, though hesitantly. "Yeah, I lived here in Deling City. It was much different back then, though, from what it is now."
"I would imagine," she said ponderously. "Did you like living here?"
He shrugged, "It was okay. Even back then, it was really busy, though. I never cared for crowded places."
She laughed slightly. "You don't seem like the type that would be. If you didn't like it, why did you stay?"
He looked away from her, "I had my reasons."
She studied him for a moment, then said, "Why don't you ever take them off?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your glasses," she clarified. "Why don't you ever take them off? No one can see your eyes."
"I don't want anyone to see them," he replied.
"Why? Is something wrong with them?" she asked, attempting to snatch his glasses off him.
He batted her hand away, and said, "No, there's nothing wrong with them. I just... like to hide behind them, I guess you could say," he replied. "So leave them alone, please."
"Alright, fine," she sighed. "And you know, I'm still mad at you."
"I expected as much," he replied. "And I guess... just maybe, I'm sorry. I'm just sick of watching funerals. I suppose I've become rather numb to them."
"Makes sense," she replied softly, leaning even further over the back of the bench to be closer to him. "You've seen many of them, I guess. Though, I'm not sure why. Unless you attend you victim's funerals, or something."
"Sometimes..." he admited. "A lot of them at this same church, too."
"Why?" she quetioned. "There are so many... you said you were numb to it by now."
"There was this little girl once," he began. "I never much cared for children, but she... she was an orphan, and had this disease. She practically lived in the hospital... for years she struggled through immense pain, until finally it was time for me to go and get her. And when I did, I felt every bit of pain that she had been through, every bit of fear. She was so scared of dying alone, never knowing what it was like to have a family. And just a few days afterward, this woman came, looking for her. It was her mother... they had somehow gotten seperated. But it was too late. She never got to see her daughter, and her daughter died, never knowing she had a mother... I guess it just got to me. Going to the funeral was the least I could do."
Rinoa looked up at him in surprise. "I never expected you to have even an ounce of sensitivity in your body. I guess I was wrong," she said, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "I'm glad I was wrong, too. But how is it that you felt her pain?"
Squall hesitated for a moment, and was about to speak when the double doors to the church swung open and a young man with spikey blonde hair stumbled in.
"Damn. They weren't kidding about that fall being killer," he muttered, rubbing his head. "Hey!" he called to them. "Is there a Squall Leonhart in here?"
Squall stood from his seat and turned to look at the stranger. "That would be me. Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Chill dude," he replied, putting his hands up in defense. "I don't mean any harm. I was sent here from above!" he announced, walking closer to Squall and Rinoa. "Well... kinda. See, the other day I was walking down the street, minding my own business when-"
"Get to the point," Squall snapped.
He laughed nervously. "Mr. Sunshine, I see. Well, I got shot. And the thing is, I'm not good enough to go to heaven, but not bad enough to go to hell. So basically, I have to earn my angel wings. By helping you, in whatever your mission is."
"Not another one," Squall grumbled, smacking his forehead.
"How did you get shot while walking down the street, minding your own business?" Rinoa asked.
"'Cause I happen to see this stereo in a store window, and thought I could get some good money for it. I would've gotten away with it, too, but that bastard store owner had a shot gun underneath the counter."
"And they're giving you a chance to earn your wings?" Squall asked, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I was gonna sell the stereo to pay for this operation my mom needed but couldn't afford," he explained. "I was told that I did bad things, but had a good heart. That's why I was given another chance."
"Your name?" Squall asked with a sigh. He remembered this guy from the other night, when he'd gone out to catch up on his job.
"I'm Zell, Zell Dincht," he said, extending a hand in Squall's direction. "So what do I have to do to get out of here?"
Squall ignored his hand, and was about to reply when Shiva burst through the doors, follwed closely by Quistis and Ifrit. "Something's happening across town," she explained. "I have reason to believe that Seifer is responsible."
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By the time they arrived across town, the area was already covered with cops and reporters. This time, it was a resturaunt, and the scene inside was certainly one to behold. Tables were overturned, food and dishes spilled onto the floor next to them, glasses were shattered over the short, gray carpet glinting in the faint light from the overcast day outside. Crimson spots stained the walls, windows, and floor and the room stood still, almost as if all the people inside had simply disappeared. And to top it all of, was Seifer's trademark message, scribbled sloppily over the wall.
Squall and the other stood outside the yellow police line, watching as bodybag, after bodybag was pulled out from the entrance.
"I'll have to make a trip to the morgue tonight," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "It's too late to do anything now."
"You could get in trouble for waiting so long," Shiva pointed out. "You've neglected your duties too often."
"Yeah, but what can I do? They should've known I couldn't manage both jobs at once," he replied. "Watching over her," he began, gazing down at Rinoa, "is a full time job. The second I'm not around she's going to get herself into trouble."
"I will not!" Rinoa argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not a baby."
"You might as well be, as much as I have to watch over you," he replied.
"If you weren't already dead..." Rinoa growled, a little louder than she should have. The other people that had gathered there were giving them all strange looks.
"Look at you two!" Quistis exclaimed. "You fight with each other like a married couple. Now we need to get some place where we can rest. We've all had a long day, and there's nothing we can do about this right now."
"Excuse me," Zell interrupted. "I'm still confused. No one bothered to explain any of this to me."
"Well, Mighty Prophetess... since you're so smart, why don't you explain everything to him?" Squall suggested. "In the mean time, we need to find a hotel or something. Looks like I'll be baby-sitting, again."
"You may be the Angel of Death, but that doesn't mean you can get away with teasing me like that, Mr. Leonhart," Rinoa commented. "I'll get you back, when you least expect it."
"Yeah, I'm so scared," he replied.
Quistis shook her head, "Enough, you two. Le'ts go."
As they were walking away, a strange man in a gray trench coat brushed past Rinoa, his hand briefly touching hers. The instant the contact was made, visions began to pass through Rinoa's mind. She saw flashes of a dark room, and in it a man outlined in the vague moonlight as he stumbled toward the door where a tall man in a black coat was waiting, a weapon hidden behind his back. The vision changed, and now she saw an old- style car speeding down the road on a dark, rainy night. It sped past the church, though it appeared slightly different now, and headed toward two boys, who were walking down the sidewalk. At the last moment, the tires slid on the slick road, and headed straight for the two children.
"Rinoa!" a loud voice shouted at her, shaking out of her trance. She suddenly found herself in front the abandoned resturaunt again, surrounded by the concerned faces of her friends. Squall stood in front of her, a hand on both her shoulders from where he had shaken her back to reality.
"What... what happened?" she asked after a moment.
"That's what we were wondering," Squall answered, attempting to release her.
She leaned into him tiredly, laying her head against his shoulder and said, "Let's just get out of here. My head hurts."
"I think there's a nice hotel just a couple blocks from here," Quistis said. "Let's go."
She began walking, and the other's followed behind her, silently. Squall timidly put an arm around Rinoa's shoulders to support her, as she suddenly looked very tired and sickly, then followed behind the others.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly as they walked.
"I'll be fine," she replied. "Why do you care?"
"Business," he replied. "It's my job to make sure you're okay."
"Is that all?"
He nodded. "Of course it is. How could it be anything else?"
Rinoa laughed slightly. "you're not completely void of emotion, are you?"
"Pretty much," he answered.
"I might've been more inclined to believe that earlier, before you told me about how you go to some of your victims funerals because you feel bad for them."
"I feel for the dead," he replied. "Not for the living."
"So when I'm dead, you'll care about me?" she laughed.
He smirked slightly, "Maybe."
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A/N: Well, there's another chapter down. I won't say it's bad... even though I think it is. I apologize, once again, for the delay. I got rather discouraged. Well... until next chapter...
