He Sees Her
Chapter Two: In His Heart
By: Dark Mousy
Rating: R for later chapters.
Story: Tidus finds Yuna in a tragic car pileup… Auron is served as Rikku's protector from witnessing a murder… And Wakka is a college slob trying to pick up a beautiful woman who is not all what she seems.
Warnings: Some angst from Rikku, but nothing big. ^_^ Th' Lady Shadow… *Sniffles* You're saying my story made your day? Your review made mine! Now I'm afraid this chapter may suck because… Now I have standards to get up to. O.O; I mean, what if this chapter isn't as good as the last? I lose people! Agh. @_@ The horror! ^^;;
Post-story Notes: This chapter has more insight on Auron and his 'past' according to… me. ^^; This pairing isn't going to pop up like a daisy, so thou must be patient.
Life it seems…
Will fade away.
Drifting farther…
Every day.
Getting lost within myself…
Nothing matters, no one else.
There was rain, faintly, but not a hint of thunder. The streets were dark, yet the rain reflected the filtered light coming from the beat-up posts spread sporadically along the sides. Most stores were closed; the only lights coming from the small bookstore and café on the side, and a bar where the muffled sounds of music came from.
A crimson-clad man walked, alone. His booted feet hit the puddled ground lightly; causing small droplets to rise and fall where he stepped. He always walked the same sidewalk – the same street – every night, for as long as he could remember. It was his job, his strange passion that he wanted to fulfill since childhood.
As he walked, he reminisced of how he had always been asked, by the same old woman who lived in the apartment next to his: "Why do you protect?"
In truth, he did not know. He had once been a policeman, the best on the team… But he had quit, after stopping the drug channel that scarred his face; and that put a bullet through his chest. He could still feel it – the pain – the thought of dying. He had felt blood before… But never so much… never so warm… so terrifying. He remembered the thought of having no one to miss; no one to miss him; no one to mourn. In a way, he felt that it would take him into death easier… And yet, he felt empty. When his blood was pouring out onto the hot concrete, and crimson stained his sight; he felt sad – remorseful – for the first time in years.
It just… stayed with him.
It had been his fault that a young girl had died on that day; even when he had thrown his body in front of her own the shot tore through him, and still hit her… And yet she had died, while he had lived. All the times he had ever thought about it… It was always to be the other way around. He was supposed to die – protecting her. Yet he had failed, and he carried it like titanium chains around his neck, wrists, and ankles. He could never forget.
After that he knew that he would never be able to repair the damage, but he could be able to prevent it… to pick up from where he failed. The men that they had captured had killed so many – not only men, but women and children – and he found it… his one calling. That day, when he lied in his own pool of blood; he knew.
He not only wanted to protect; but to stop it where it started. To stop the murders, if it meant to track down the murderers to the ends of the earth he would do it. It was his only recompense for the life that ended because of him.
As he pulled the sleeve of his crimson coat up to reveal a bar code; he made no sound. He was already inside the main gate, but to get inside his section of the FBI building it required the barcode that had been tattooed into his skin; along with small machines underneath. Those were in place in case of his death – if his vital signs failed, the main computer would know, and scramble the codes – just in case someone wanted to take his arm to get into the building.
The familiar red light passed over the code, and allowed him through the steel door that slid open quietly; like an automatic door at a grocery store. As he walked down the narrow hallway monitored with cameras, he could hear the clicking; and above him, saw one blue light fade under a small shield placed around it. It was the final door; the retinal scan. The computer had, upon reading his code, closed off the right light, so that the retinal scanner would only scan his left and find it feasible.
As soon as that door clicked and slid open, it was as if he had stepped into another world. Yet this world was his own, and a world he was comfortable with. Immediately upon stepping in; he shook the rainwater from his unruly brown strands, and hung his dripping coat on the metal rack off to the side, where his name was above.
"Ah, Damnit, Auron! Could you not 'ave at LEAST shaken the water out in the 'all where I have not to clean?!" An older Italian lady pushing a cleaning cart waved her fist at the surprised man, while she yelled in a heavy accent. "Se soltanto la vostra madre fosse qui, potrei chiederle il permesso dare dei calci a quella testarda, parte posteriore good-for-nothing di il vostro! Il mio dio, ogni volta che piove. Dovrei sapere!" (If only your mother were here, I would be able to ask her permission to kick that stubborn, good-for-nothing rear of yours! My god, every time it rains. I should have known!)
Auron blinked an eye, as he watched the old woman pull out her cleaning supplies with a huff while she muttered more in Italian. He had no idea what she said, but he then decided it was best he didn't – Puli had distaste for him ever since he had come to the office.
Pul had been with the office longer than Auron had; and was the only custodian in the entire office. It seemed as if she never took a break, but she was the only one the office trusted to be going in and out as she pleased. Even she had a barcode on her arm.
No sooner had he turned his eyes up, that he saw a familiar grizzled face poke his way out of the first side door.
"Hey Auron! A little late today, huh? Not much like you. And especially today."
Auron made a slight half-smirk, as he looked to his old friend, and was careful to step over the cleaning supplies Puli had laid out.
"You are leaving PRINTS!" She yelled, then muttered more in Italian; causing both Auron and Jecht to flinch.
Auron ducked into the room; and Jecht laughed heartily as he slammed the door on Puli's ranting. "The wrath of the cleaning lady. I got it this morning, and even the bruise to show for it. She hit me in the groin with her broom."
He would have chuckled at that, but his russet eye fell to the desk, where vivid pictures lay splayed on it – the main color over taking them all being red.
Blood.
"A new homicide?" Auron asked quietly.
Jecht stopped laughing, and turned his eyes to the desk – a serious face coming over him as he went to sit behind it. "I guess you could say so. But this is the mofo of all the cases we've ever done."
"How so?" Auron asked absently, as he looked over the pictures. "Looks like a normal murder to me."
Jecht laughed, and Auron looked up at him, to find him almost as giddy as a schoolboy. "The victim's name is Jyscal Guado. He was found this morning, on the twenty-third floor of GuaCom, stabbed sixty-three times and then hung on a coat rack."
"Lovely for a bed time story."
"C'mon, man. This is serious, and the best lead I can get on Seymour!"
"Any suspects?"
"Any live ones you mean?" Jecht chuckled. "The man that did it jumped out of the window shortly after. Just a normal bum off the street – with a shit load of cash in his pocket."
"Forensics?"
"On the scene right now. And I'd stake my life that it was his son, Seymour Guado. I've been trying to bag him for numerous accounts of hit man murder of all the leading companies that are stopping GuaCom from becoming a monopoly. And now that daddy's gone, little rich kid gets to take over the company."
"Have they found evidence?"
"Not sure." Jecht's voice became its usual gruff tone. "They haven't reported since noon; they're supposed to be reporting at about 10:00 p.m."
"I doubt there will be a way to prove it was Seymour." Auron said, monotonously, as he set the gruesome photos back on the desk.
There was a long silence, and Auron was forced to look up, to see Jecht's smug face.
"Well, I happen to have a witness, Mr. Cynical."
Auron raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh really."
"Yuh, really." He got up, and opened the door, quickly checking to see if Puli had left the main hallway. "C'mon. She's in room S208, on floor five."
"How did she see this?"
"Haven't really asked her much yet, been kinda busy with the forensics team. But I do know one thing about her."
"What is that."
"Her name's Rikku… At least I think. I may have pronounced it wrong."