Yes, I have yet another one-shot for you. This time I promise it will STAY a one-shot! It may seem a bit dry, and I'm sorry for that. I got this idea while camping, and I had no access to a computer, so it's been drifting in my head for a while. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All characters are belong to Square
The dim lights in the bar made it have a cozy atmosphere that just made me want to collapse on the counter. Of coarse, I'm usually the one peeling drunk men who do that off and tossing them out. I sat, on a stool on my respective side of the said counter, twirling a shot glass in a bored manner. The place was silent except for the soccer game playing on the television to my right, and the dull sound of my spinning glass. I was the only soul in the room, all of the drunks had crawled their asses out and made their way home, or whatever you could call 'home' in the slums. I could still smell the cloud of tobacco smoke drifting through the air, and the heavy smell of booze that was pretty common in a bar such as my own.
I put my elbow on the counter and rest my chin in my hand. I quit my glass-twirling for a moment to pull strands of my chocolate brown hair from my eyes, annoyed that my hair tie had failed me yet again.
Sleepiness was coming over me, and I considered closing up until I heard the door open. My head snapped up and I saw a man walk in. I felt a wave of numbness wash over me when I recognised the neatly pressed dark blue suit, and the bald head. His eyes watched me behind dark lenses as he walked over and sat down on the stool right in front of me.
I stood up, shaking my head to rid myself of the grogginess. "The usual?" I asked him, reaching for a clean cup. He came by often, with an important and determined air about him, which was unsettling, but he always sat alone, ordering the same drink every time. He never caused trouble, which I was grateful for.
The man shook his head, his many ear piercings giving off a light jingling sound as he did. "Rough day, I'd like something harder."
"Anything in particular?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Surprise me." His voice was deep, yet smooth. When I heard him speak, it was either calming, or sent a shiver down my spine. Quite odd when I think about it. I nodded and mixed him a drink I couldn't remember the name of, all I knew is that it had a pretty high amount of alcohol. I placed the glass on the counter and pushed it towards him. It was then I had noticed he had been watching me the whole time. It was a bit more than a little unsettling. He silently took the drink with a nod and treated himself to a generous sip.
"Why was you're day so rough?" I asked, merely to spark conversation. He was a quiet man, but I didn't like the awkward silence that was starting to settle. Despite the fact we weren't fighting on the same side, in the past we had shared light conversation.
The bald man sighed, looking at the glass before him. "Boss is on my case about something I have to do, and my partner went AWOL today." He explained. He then gave a light smile. "It was actually quiet without him there, but I got stuck with his work."
I nodded and started washing the cups and mixer I had used to mix his drink. I let the sink run for a moment and started wiping them off one by one with a washcloth. "Where'd your partner go?"
After another sip, he shrugged. "Probably went off drinking. I bet he was wasted before ten a.m."
I smiled and put away one washed and dried cup. "If it makes you feel better, he's probably hurting right now."
"That got me through today." he replied.
As we fell into silence, and I continued washing what was left of the dishes, I started thinking about the interactions we shared. It was obvious we both knew each other's identity, yet we never acted on it. A member of AVALANCHE serving drinks to a Turk. It was indeed odd. Barret would blow his head off if he saw the man in here, and my guess is that his fellow Turks would do the same to me. He himself seemed suspicious, with the sunglasses that hid his eyes, limiting his expressions. He looked like a body guard, or a hit-man. Of course, him being a Turk, he probably acted as both.
Something about him, other than his profession, made me feel uncomfortable. I first thought it was the way he was so silent, or his gloved hands that had undoubtedly had broken many necks. But no, it was that purposeful aura, like he was here for a reason. He wouldn't just stroll into my bar now and then for a drink, he lived up on the plate, where the wealthier civilians resided. There must be nicer taverns and clubs up there.
Yet, when I sensed that determined, air about him, I also sensed a feeling of regret. It was like he didn't want to be there, but was dragging out a conversation as long as his silent attitude would allow him.
I decided to spare us from to silence as I finished cleaning. "So what's this thing your boss keeps nagging you about?" I asked, almost regretting asking. It was most likely an assassination or kidnapping.
Behind his shades, I could see him look up at me from his drink. He looked confused as to why I asked, perhaps he felt the regret I suddenly had. "It's just something I can't do, and he's telling me that I have to do it." he told me simply with a sigh. I leaned on the counter a little, looking at him.
"Why can't you do it? Do you not have the skill? Or do you not have the heart?" I ventured, deciding to test the boundaries of our unspoken differences.
He raised an eyebrow at me, then merely smiled-much to my surprise. "I'll just say that it's not in line with my personal morals."
I smiled back at him, starting to wipe down the counter with a rag. It wasn't dirty at all, it was just my reflex action sometimes when I had nothing to do. "Sometimes you have to decide what's worth your pay check, and what will let you sleep through the night."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. In silence he finished his drink and set it down, allowing me to take the empty glass. I did so and quickly washed it. I saw him stare at his gloved hands, clasped together on the counter. He gave a hard blink and stood up while my back was turned for a moment while I was putting away the glass. I turned back around and jumped a little when I saw him standing, palms flat on the counter, staring at me. He raised one hand and lowered his sunglasses from his eyes, revealing the ice blue pupils previously hidden. I stared at him, taking the chance to try and read his eyes.
I had been right about sensing regret, I definatly saw it now. We stood in silence for what seemed like a full minute before he took a deep breath. I knew he had come here to do that something, but it seemed he couldn't do it. I felt ready for anything, let it be another silence or a lunge. By the way he lowered his glasses I knew they were eyes you only saw once. He stared at me, and by the look on his face, seeming to have an internal battle of wills. After another moment that felt like more like an eternity, he replaced his glasses on the top of his nose. He placed the appropriate amount of gil on the counter and turned around, walking towards the door.
"Rude." I called his name once I collected myself from a weird shocked trance. It was then that I felt my heart pounding in my throat. For a moment, I had been scared. The tall man stopped, and turned a little to look at me. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling the gathered sweat on my forehead. "Why can't you do it?" I asked finally, watching him from behind the counter. "What's so different about this mission? You come here time and time again, yet you walk away and accept the failure. Why?"
Was I crazy? Delusional? No, I just needed to know.
Rude gave me a look that made him seem so open and yet so secretive at the same time. "Because you, Tifa, have done nothing wrong." His calm, almost velvet voice gave me much needed comfort. He turned again and pushed the door open. "And I'd like to sleep through the night for once."
Yeah, maybe it's cliche, or dry, or boring, or whatever you can call it. I'm sorry if something like this has been written before, it came to me randomly. If you read, PLEASE review! Thanks!