Note: I do not own Final Fantasy or any of its characters (which would be rediculously cool), and I do not own Battle Royale.
Note 2: Slightly re-revamped Chapter 4 here. I updated it since last night, found a few inexplicable spelling mistakes, purged them now. Enjoy!
Note 3: This is written so that you don't have to have any experience of Battle Royale OR Final Fantasy, although knowledge of either proabably maks it more enjoyable!
Chapter 4
Cait Sith hurtled through the forest, ignoring the stinging and scraping of branches low-hanging branches he crashed through in his flight through the trees. He screamed and flailed his arms about him, trying to brush them away, imagining them to be the giant tentacles of some great monster closing in on him, trying to snatch him up and devour him.
Everyone… everyone will play!
He had known it the instant his collar had activated. Everything had seemed surreal up until that point, almost like a dream. Sure, he'd seen Zell die, and seen the corpse of their teacher as well, but that could have just been a nightmare brought on from seeing that slasher film the other week. Nothing new at all, people often saw deaths in their dreams.
But then the collar had activated, and the slight static shock had really made him realise that it was all really real, and he wasn't just having a bad dream. He was in the Program, and they would all have to play or die. When the collar had activated, and made him jump, he had looked around at his classmates as they recoiled away from him in surprise. They had all looked scared, gazing at him with terrified eyes. His mind had snapped in that second, fracturing into a million shards like a shattered mirror. Through this fractured mess of his mind, he had come to believe that they were afraid of him. That they were terrified of him, and he knew that people would strike out against that which they were afraid of.
Just because I'm different…
He couldn't help being who he was. Nonhumans were entitled the same rites as any other person, but they were scared of him. He was sure of it now. He was mounted on a moogle doll for transport, which brought him nearly up to the height of his classmates, but he believed that they still looked down on him, loathed him, feared him. He believed they thought of him like this just because he was different.
Tears began to streak his eyes, and he pawed them away quickly, angry at himself for showing such weakness. But this temporary lapse in his concentration made the moogle doll trip up, landing in the dirt. He was sent flying, and landed on the damp grass several feet away. He tried to lift himself up, but collapsed straight back into the grass. Overcome with a whirling hurricane of consuming emotion, he started to cry pitifully.
They'll try to kill me… I know it! They'll want to kill me just because I'm different!
But… but I want to live!
He lifted his face from the damp grass and gazed over at his moogle doll. Heaving himself to his hind feet, the little black cat padded over to his mount, and righted it. He took a moment to wipe some of the dirt from its face to make it look a little more respectable, then he moved to the green bag that was slung across the doll's shoulders, and began to rummage around inside. He didn't know what he hoped to find, but he just wanted something – anything – with which he could defend himself, at least until he could work out a way to escape. He gave himself a paper cut trying to pull the map out of the bag, spilling a few drops of blood onto the bag. He put his paw in his mouth and sucked on it to try and stop the blood flow, whilst continuing to rummage around inside the bag with his free paw.
He pushed his paw in deeper, towards the bottom of the bag before he struck gold. His paw brushed something cold and metallic, roughly cylindrical in shape. Running his hand further up the metal objects with growing excitement and encountered what felt like a handle with a trigger.
It's a gun!
With effort, the cat managed to prise the weapon from the green military bag. He collapsed to the ground, the weapon landing next to him on the grass. It gleamed in the moonlight, and thing of terrible beauty and wondrous destruction.
The weapon was no normal gun, he was easily sure of that. It was certainly different from the solid-shot weapons that the soldiers had had in the classroom, the gun with which Wedge had shot Zell. The letters down the lengthy barrel read "SonaGun", followed by a complex series of letter and numbers that were probably some sort of manufacturer's code. The weapon itself was quite large, bigger than any normal rifle-type gun. It was chunky and yellow, apart from the barrel, which was emblazoned with black-and-yellow warning stripes, further enhancing the dangerous look of the weapon.
This… this is a good weapon!
I… could even win with this!
He tried to take back the thought the moment it entered his head, to snatch it back and snuff it out, but it was spreading through his entire consciousness like wildfire, consuming his thoughts.
I could win…
He would be able to get out, to survive. He could win the game and go back to his normal life. People would know that he could be dangerous, and they would respect him, not look down on him. He could transfer to a new school, and people would be too scared of him to not like him.
I can WIN!
Cackling loudly, the black cat danced a little jig, then sprang onto the moogle doll's forearm, and from there onto its head. With a growing sense of eager anticipation, he activated the doll, made it lumber forwards and lift the gun into its hands, and then set off in search of prey.
-
Yuna Bisaido could run no further. She tried to force herself onwards another few steps, but her protesting knees finally buckled, and she fell forwards onto the floor, her arms shooting out just in time to prevent herself from face planting the grass. Her head bowed and her chest heaving, she slowly lowered herself towards the cool grass, and curled up into a foetal ball. She had run since leaving the school, terrified of what would become of her if someone unfriendly had found her.
I know… I just know that someone will play!
Yuna was a nice girl, she had always been a nice girl, and normally would never have thought anything bad of anyone. It just wasn't in her nature, under normal circumstances. But she had seen the way that Vincent and Sephiroth reacted to the fact that they were in the Program. Something deep inside her, a quiet and sinister little voice of reason had told her that they were going to do something bad. And what was worse was that no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she just knew it was true.
She lay curled up in the grass for several minutes, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. When she felt like her heart had started beating at normal speed again, and that her legs would be able to support her, she rose – somewhat shakily – to her feet, and turned around. She had collapsed in a field, and wasn't far from a small hut. Her first thought was to go and check for something in the hut that could be useful to her, but she thought better of it; someone could easily be lurking there, waiting for someone to unwittingly walk into a trap.
So suspicious of everything already… that's just the way they want us to be! It's how this game works… they destroy trust.
But… there must be something I can do… there must be something! But what?
She asked herself the question, yet she already knew the answer. She would do what she always tried to do; to help people in any way she could. To talk to them, calm them, reconcile them. Some of the girls in the class (particularly LeBlanc) said she was a bit of a goody-two-shoes, always trying to help everyone, but she didn't particularly care anymore. She had tried to change herself over the past few years, to try and fit in with the other girls more, but she just wasn't that kind of person.
Although... I'm glad I did try to change… it showed me who I really am.
Trying to change had just shown her that she couldn't be anyone but herself; she couldn't help but be nice to everyone (except possibly Seymour). But that had made her stronger. Plus it had also resulted in a wardrobe change, for which she was now very grateful, and had decided to keep.
I can't believe that I actually used to wear those robes…
She smiled to herself, picturing how silly she used to look. Some of her friends, like Quistis, had said that the old look had suited her, but Rinoa had assured her that the new look was better, cooler. Sure there was less clothing in general, but she loved it nonetheless. Plus she couldn't help but feel good about herself when she occasionally caught the boys staring.
She looked up into the sky, and put on a defiant expression. She certainly wasn't a fighter by nature, and she didn't want to hurt anybody. But that didn't mean that she was helpless, or that she couldn't do anything. She would try and help people. She didn't know how, she didn't know who, but she would try. She would prove she wasn't powerless.
With a defiant smile firmly in place on her face, she set off, retracing her steps and heading back in the general direction of the school.
-
Seifer Almasy heaved himself up onto the rocky platform, and scrambled to his feet again, brushing himself down. He consulted his compass again in the moonlight, glad that there were no clouds. He would have had to use his torch if the clouds had blocked out the natural light of the moon, and using his torch would have given away his position. Satisfied that he was still heading due south, he continued onwards.
He had known that Sephiroth would come up with a plan. He always came up with a plan. That was why he was the leader. Why he was the boss. Sephiroth had always been able to figure out what to do, and Seifer had known that this would be no exception.
Follow the government's orders and kill each other? Puh-lease! Sephiroth will know what to do.
He pulled himself up onto the next rocky platform. He had been steadily climbing up what seemed like a giant's staircase, a series of rocky slabs one on top of the other. He knew that he was heading in the right direction, and the height would give him a good vantage point before he closed in on his final destination.
Better to climb up these bastard rocks and get a good vantage point than get down there and be ambushed by someone I hadn't seen.
Finally reaching the highest rocky slab, Seifer could see all the way down to the tip of the southern peninsula. He could see three people waiting down there, and the sight caused his mouth to twist into a smile.
I knew it'd all be okay!
As he hopped down the giant's steps towards the beach, he remembered how, back in the classroom, Sephiroth had murmured "meet me at the southern tip" to them before he stood up to leave the room. Seifer had known that Sephiroth wouldn't take this game lying down, and now he was gathering his gang together.
Although there's only three of them down there… looks like someone's late… at least I'm not going to be the last one there.
He jumped from the final rocky slab, and landed in a crouch on the sand several feet below. Rising, he sprinted down the beach towards his boss and fellow gang members.
"You're late."
Although he always spoke quietly, Sephiroth's voice was one of those you just could not ignore or fail to hear.
"Sorry, boss. I was just being cautious." Seifer said, half breathless from his run down the beach.
"I was not condemning you. Indeed, I applaud your caution." The white-haired young man said in his cold, quiet voice.
Sephiroth slowly stood up, and looked at the three gang members that had turned up.
"I assume that none of you have seen Edwin?"
The three shook their heads. Seifer's lip twitched slightly at the thought that one of the gang members would not obey the boss, and would deliberately not turn up at the designated meeting place. Rufus sneered, and said:
"Bet the ponce chickened out and found a little hole to go hide in."
"It matters not." Sephiroth said shortly, silencing him. "What matters is that you three turned up, and you are the three that will matter in a situation like this."
"Yeah, I guess. Edwin would have been dead weight if we have to fight, huh?" Seifer said, lounging against a palm tree.
"Fight? Who said anything about fighting?" Baralai said nervously. "Boss, you can figure a way out, can't you?"
"I'll… think about it. For now, I think we should get moving. Staying in one place for any length of time is pretty dangerous. Let's get moving."
Seifer pushed himself off from the tree, and moved to stand next to Sephiroth, his customary position as his boss' right-hand man. Rufus stood up quickly, and brushed himself down, trying to get the sand off his trousers, and joined Seifer. Baralai stood up slowly, but remained were he was.
"I don't know… I never liked the idea of fighting before, back home… drugs, stealing and taking what we please is one thing, but attacking someone is something else…" he said, the unease in his voice deepening.
"Get your ass over here Bevelle!" Seifer barked. "We are NOT going to attack anyone, even if its that doofus Cait Sith or that twat Seymour."
Reluctantly, Baralai joined them, and they headed off up the beach.
-
Cait Sith peered around the broad tree trunk he had hidden behind when he first heard the footsteps approaching. At first he couldn't make out who was approaching, for he could only see a ghostly white outline, moving hesitantly through the gloom of the forest. But it didn't take him long to be able to distinguish the sad but beautiful face of Celes.
She will be the first…
Celes was walking along slowly, peering into the pressing darkness around her, terrified that at any moment someone would attack her. She trod carefully, trying not to make any sound, and turned her head from side to side, listening for any sound of a potential enemy. She hugged her arms around her chest, shivering with fear, the movement causing her delicate white clothes to ripple slightly.
Leaping with excitement, he scrambled back onto his moogle, taking his customary position on its head. He raised the gun to the right height to shoot at her, and dialled the power to a medium setting (no sense in using full power yet). Jumping out from behind the tree, the cat snapped off a shot, but misjudged the power of the weapon, even with its reduced power. The shot went wide, and the recoil pushed him off balance.
Dammit! Should've dialled it down more…
Celes' eyes went wide with terror. What appeared to be a large white apparition had leapt from the trees and fired at her, sending a pulsing blast wave shooting past her, narrowly missing her head. She may have been terrified, but she was strong-willed enough that the fear didn't slow her reactions. She dived to the left, rolled to her feet, and sprinted off through the woods, tears streaming down her face.
Cursing foully at the top of his voice, Cait Sith forced the moogle to regain its balance, and then gave chase. Having read in the manual that the SonaGun did not require ammunition, the cat squeezed of shot after shot, blasting trees into flying splinters, but never quite managing to hit the fleeing, screaming girl. The bounding steps of the moogle threw his aim off, always missing no matter how hard he tried.
Celes ran faster, and the moogle-mounted cat was unable to keep up. She was one of the class' fastest runners, being very physically fit, and had no problem outrunning the bounding moogle. As she ducked and weaved between the trees, she gained more and more distance, and eventually Cait Sith was left behind, unable to give chase any longer.
The little black cat screamed with anger, and threw down the gun, jumping up and down on top of his moogle mount, shaking his fists at the sky, getting angrier and angrier, and all the while, his mind grew more and more broken. Through the fractured window of his mind's eye, images of people trying to kill him played over and over, growing ever more grotesque and horrific.
Eventually, the cat overcame his fit of rage. Breathing deeply to control the red tide of anger, he picked up the gun, brushed the dirt from the barrel, and decided on a new strategy.
It's only been about quarter of an hour… there should still be some of them coming out of the school! I can kill them as they leave, and they'll never have a chance to do anything to me! Then I can take care of those who are already out…
Driven onward by the violent images his madness spawned, the cat steered his moogle in the direction of the school, lumbering through bushes and barely avoiding the trees.
-
"What do you mean?" Baralai demanded, stopping dead in his tracks.
"I mean that I can't see a good way out yet. So we should fight until then." Sephiroth said quietly, resenting the fact that he had to repeat himself.
They had been steadily walking along the beach, heading eastwards, discussing possible courses of action. As the trail of footprints in the sand behind them had stretched out longer and longer, the gang members had come up with more and more ludicrous escape plans whilst Sephiroth had listened silently. And finally he had spoken, stunning them all into silence.
"Boss, I don't know if that's such a good idea… I mean, even if we do fight, only one of us can escape." Seifer put in.
"I might be able to figure something out along the way." Their white-haired leader replied, shrugging slightly.
Baralai backed up a few paces, his eyes wide. Sephiroth smiled coldly at him, his eyes gleaming dangerously, although none of the other gang members saw.
"Bevelle, where are you going?" Seifer barked.
"Yeah, don't chicken on us now, the party is just about to start!" Rufus shouted, excited. "Remember when we trashed those Tantalus Gang idiots? This'll be just like that, but better!"
"But… but don't you see!" Baralai yelled, backing up another few steps. "He'll just use you to get to the top, then he'll kill you and get out!"
He pointed an accusing finger at Sephiroth, his fear and anger rising.
"He'll kill us all!"
"How could you say that about the boss!" Seifer shouted. "You're not going to take lip from him are you, Sephiroth?"
"No."
In one astoundingly fast motion, Sephiroth moved forwards several paces, and swung his arms upwards. There was a wet slicing sound, and Baralai's head flew into the air, hung suspended for a second, then came back to earth with a sickeningly wet noise.
Seifer stared, uncomprehending. Then he saw the long sword in Sephiroth's hands. The long, elegant, gleaming katana he clutched, which he had kept hidden under his cloak. Beyond Sephiroth, he saw Baralai's headless body sway slightly, then tumble backwards.
It was only when Rufus started to retch that Seifer was snapped back to reality that, and he stumbled backwards, his mouth hanging open.
"I should say that that is sufficient disciplining." Sephiroth remarked quietly, re-sheathing the sword.
"But… why… what the fuck did you do!" Rufus screamed at him, pulling the knife he had been issued with from its small sheath.
"I would think that is pretty obvious. I decapitated him."
Seifer shot to his feet, raising his right arm and pointing it, palm outstretched, at Sephiroth.
"Put the sword down or I'll blow your fucking brains out!" he shouted. He pulled the sleeve of his greatcoat up slightly to reveal the Firaga Bangle that was strapped to his forearm. Sephiroth's left eyebrow lifted slightly, which was an exceptional show of interest for him.
"Now why the hell did you kill him!" Rufus shouted, advancing on his boss with the knife held out in front of him.
"I could say because he was backing out to easily, and wouldn't be reliable enough to help us get out, and thus was dangerous to us." Sephiroth said quietly, his voice dead neutral. "Or I could tell you the truth…"
Seifer's eyes went wide as he realised what he was about to say.
"That I'm going to play, and kill everyone. I had hoped that you would be useful, but apparently you will just be targets."
"Rufus, get back!" Seifer shouted, then he started murmuring the incantation to activate the enormous power locked within the Firaga Bangle.
Rufus saw Sephiroth's hand move towards the hilt of his sheathed sword, and took a step backwards, but he was not fast enough. In a fraction of a heartbeat, Sephiroth was gone. Fireballs belatedly erupted from Seifer's outstretched palm, hurtling through the empty space where his former leader had stood.
Seifer looked up and saw Sephiroth reach the top of his jump, his sword now unsheathed and held above his shoulder in preparation for a mighty swing.
"Move!" Seifer screamed at Rufus, but before his friend could realise what was going on, Sephiroth descended and swung. The blade entered his body through the right shoulder, and exited through his left side, a little above his hip. There was a slight spray of blood as the blade left his body.
Seifer had seen enough violence and blood in his time to not be overly put off as his friend collapsed into two bloody pieces, but rage built within him. The man he had trusted and served for years, the man he had looked up to and respected and given unflinching loyalty to had just killed his only friends. Sure, Bevelle had been a bit of a wuss at points, but he had still been a friend. And he and Rufus had known each other forever.
He screamed the incantation for his Firaga Bangle again, but Sephiroth whirled to the side and the spell missed him again. Before he could invoke the spell a third time, he felt a sharp pain through his chest. Looking down, he saw nearly two feet of metal protruding from his chest. Two feet of bloodstained metal.
Somehow, Sephiroth was standing behind him, and had buried the sword in Seifer's back. As Seifer fell to his knees, sliding off the sword, his last thought was:
He's fast… too fast… he just… can't…. be human…
-
Sephiroth patiently stood still as the lifeless body of his foremost gang member slid from his Masamune sword. He smiled inwardly, relishing in the three kills he had already racked up. He had known from the start that he would play, but the thrill of the kill had been greater than he had anticipated.
Perhaps the game would provide him with some sport, if nothing else. He could kill all the inferior puppets on the wretched island, descendants of those who had usurped the Planet from Mother. And it would only be the beginning…
He pulled Almasy's right sleeve up, and removed the Firaga Bangle.
At last, some real firepower.
He had already taken a knife from Shinra and a Blizzard Bangle from Bevelle, two more nice little additions to his already growing armoury. It was just the beginning, he knew, for he would kill all of his classmates, for they were all traitors to Mother. He would take back the Planet one bit at a time. Once he had won, they would take his collar off, and then he could kill all the soldiers. With each kill he would grow in power, moving on and on like an unstoppable juggernaut with a morbid momentum, cleansing the entire Planet of scum. By the time he finished, he would have the power of a God.
But first… I'll win this game. I'll kill all of these... puppets.
-
Squall walked down the corridor towards the school's front hall. The corridor wasn't exactly a long one, but it seemed to stretch out as he walked, the end always moving further away. As he walked, images of the past few minutes swirled through his mind, filling all his conscious thought.
The anxious faces of his classmates, the crying of the girls, the corpse of Mr. Kramer, the worry in Rinoa's eyes. And above all, the image of Zell loomed before his eyes no matter where he looked. It hung before him, ethereal as he walked down the corridor, and it was only worse when he tried to close his eyes.
He reached the end of the corridor, and walked through the already-open door and into the main hall. Off to the left, a door leading to what he imagined had once been the staff room was wedged open, and light spilled out into the otherwise dark hall. As he strode towards the front door, Squall looked into the staff room, and caught a glimpse of many computers, a disorganised array of cables, and many blue-suited G-Army soldiers lounging in front of monitors. Before he could look more closely, a soldier moved into the doorway, obscuring his view.
"Get a move on." He said shortly, his tone menacing and his expression hidden behind his helmet.
Squall turned away, sneering, and continued on towards the front door.
So there are loads of soldiers here… the more the merrier, I guess.
He reached the front door, a motion-sensing affair which would open if he moved any closer. He frowned, concerned. The fact that the door was closed meant that anyone waiting outside could easily get the drop on him. There would be no way of knowing about a potential ambush until it was too late.
He glanced around, looking for a window he could climb out of, but the windows were all fastened shut and most probably locked with a key that would be hidden away in some janitor's office.
Ah well; never was one for the careful approach.
Stepping forwards, he kicked the door mightily with his left foot. The electronic mechanism at the top of the door made a light shrieking noise, and then snapped. The door flew open and slammed against the edge of the wall outside, before closing again, pulled back by its weight and the way the hinges were made.
"Oh thanks a bunch, kid!" the soldier yelled from the door. "Now the friggin' thing is gonna flap in the wind and let a draft in."
"Oh, what a fucking shame." Squall replied, listening intently for any noise outside.
Satisfied that no-one was waiting outside, he stepped out, leaving the grumbling soldier behind. He stepped out a few paces, then crouched, still inside the shadow of the school building. He swept his gaze around the surrounding area and listened carefully. He looked up at the trees and could see nothing there. He looked back, over his shoulder, to see if anyone could be hiding in the bushes beneath the windows, but saw nothing there either.
Satisfied he was safe, he strode onwards, across the small staff car park, and stepped into the forest just beyond. Hiding amongst a clump of tall willows on the edge of the forest, he crouched down and waited for Rinoa to emerge. He checked his watch, pressing the small button on the side that lit up its digital face. It would only be another minute or so, but each second dragged on slowly. He was in for what would seem to be quite a wait.
Sighing, he settled down closer to the ground, and let his school bag and Program bag fall from his shoulder. He glanced back at the door.
Come on Rinoa… we need to get out of here quickly, before someone else turns up.
No sooner had he thought that then he head a rustling behind him. He looked back and saw a shape approaching through the trees. He heard running footsteps, and heavy breathing. Staying crouched, he reached his hand towards his bag, hoping he had a good weapon. But before he had even started undoing the zipper, someone burst through a bush and ran straight past him, either ignoring him or failing to notice him.
It took a moment to register that it had been Jessie Zolom who had just streaked past him, terror in her expression and tears pouring down her cheeks, sobbing heavily. Squall thought of trying to stop her and ask her what was wrong, but that question answered itself. From the same hedge that she had come from, a white moogle with a gleaming gun in its arms burst, with a screeching black cat on its head, its eyes wide and its mouth twisted into a snarl.
Cait Sith barrelled past Squall and raised the gun, snapping off a shot. A pulse of transparent energy flew from the barrel and hit the ground behind Jessie's feet, sending a plume of dirt into the air and knocking her to the ground face first. She scrambled to her hands and knees and tried to stand up, but a second blast caught her square in the back of the head.
Squall blinked. He was sure the light was playing tricks on his eyes. One moment, her head had been there, the next it was not. The headless corpse tilted forwards and crashed to the ground again., jetting blood from the neck stump. Lifting his gaze slightly, Squall saw the battered remains of Jessie's head lying at the base of a large rock several metres away.
Cait Sith bounced up and down on top of his moogle, crying out in jubilation.
"First kill! First of many! I can win win win win win!"
Squall slowly stood up and lifted his bags, desperately trying not to make a sound. If he could move back to the door, he could grab Rinoa as she came out, and run away quickly without the apparently demented cat noticing.
But as soon as he took one step away, a twig cracked beneath his feet. Despite the racket the black cat was making, it's sharp ears picked up the noise, and wheeled around to glare wild-eyes at Squall.
Damn felines with their good hearing…
The cat worked frantically to bring the moogle around and point the gun at him, but Squall was already moving away. By the time the first blast was fired, Squall had moved several feet away. The pulse from the gun smashed into the ground where he had been, and created a small crater. A second shot, more carefully aimed, slammed into dirt not far behind Squall's feet.
Shit…
Squall knew what the gun was, having recognised the sinister sleek design from one his old Weapons Monthly magazines. It was a SonaGun, and although it fired compressed air waves, it was extremely deadly, capable of tearing a person apart on its higher power settings.
Just like with Jessie…
He dive-rolled as a third shot passed through the space where he had been a split second before, and came back to his feet with a small rock in his right hand.
If in doubt, improvise.
He took a step back and hurled the rock, praying his aim was true. Cait Sith, finally drawing a bead on Squall, fired another shot from the SonaGun. Squall lifted an arm to shield his eyes as the blast hit the rock in midair, smashing it into flying splinters of stone.
Squall gritted his teeth as he felt one of the splinters graze his arm, and then felt a grim sense of satisfaction as he heard Cait Sith scream. Lowering his arm, he saw the cat staggering on top of his moogle, clutching his hands to his bleeding face, screaming incoherent threats. The moogle had dropped the gun, and was staggering around, out of control. It tripped on a small rock, and came crashing down, landing face first and spilling the wounded black cat from it. Cait Sith moaned and struggled for a few moments, then lay still.
Squall heard a gasp coming from behind him, and he wheeled around to see Rinoa standing near the school entrance, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in shock. She was clutching her right arm with her left hand, and there was pain in her eyes.
"Don't worry about him," Squall said, hoisting his bags onto his shoulder. "He must have lost it completely; he killed Jessie." He motioned to the headless corpse as he said this, and immediately wished he hadn't. Rinoa trembled slightly when she saw the bloody stump that was the girl's neck.
He saw her lower lip tremble slightly, so he walked over to her and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She immediately pressed herself close to him, resting her head on his chest. He was extremely taken back, but said nothing, not wanting her to move away.
"But… how can people do this?" she whispered. "How can our classmates even think about killing each other?"
She looked up at him, fear in her eyes.
"Squall, what are we going to do?"
He stepped away from her slightly, then took her hand is his, and tried to give a reassuring smile.
"For the moment, all we can do is run. We have to get away from here, fast. I hate to think that our classmates would actually play this game, but if Cait Sith did, then anyone might, and there might be other people around here, waiting."
Rinoa nodded silently, and the two set off, running into the forest without a backward glance at the headless corpse, the toppled moogle doll and the bleeding black cat.
-
Cloud Strife jogged at a steady speed down the beach, following the single line of footprints in the sand.
He was certain that the footprints belonged to her. Something deep inside him just knew it was her. And if nothing else, the footprints did look a lot like those that would be made by her boots.
He had been searching for her since he left the school building, not thinking of anything else. After wondering aimlessly for nearly half an hour, he had finally spotted someone in the distance, a silhouette moving briskly along a hilltop. The person had clearly been her, there was no doubt in his mind about that. But trying to catch up with the distant figure, he had lost her in the woods, where the trees blocked out what little light there was, turning the area into a place of ghostly shapes and imaginary sounds. He had almost given up hope, and staggered along until he found a way out.
But when he had left the forest, he had found himself on a small sandy beach, and a little further along he found the trail of footsteps leading from the edge of the forest, where the tree line met the sandy beach.
Now he was moving quickly down the beach, following the trail of footprints and praying that no-one else had seen them.
She just has to be safe…
He clambered over a cluster of large rocks that were partially submerged in the middle of the beach. He skinned his knee whilst climbing, but he ignored the pain, forcing himself up the treacherously slippery surface to the top.
Finally reaching the summit of the pile, he took advantage of his elevated position to survey the area. At first, he could see nothing, then he spotted the trail of footprints. He followed the trail along, seeing where they changed from boot-marks to feet-marks.
Guess she felt like walking barefoot across the beach…
That seems so typically like her…
Then his heart leapt within his chest when he saw her standing further down the beach. She was standing at the end of a small peninsula, gazing up at the stars. She was wearing what she always wore, her pink dress with a short red jacket over the top. The dress billowed slightly in the breeze, and a few loose strands of her hair danced about as well. Her boots lay discarded a few feet away, next to her bags.
Leaping from the rocks, Cloud charged down the beach as fast as he could, heading for the girl. A smile appeared on his face, a smile of relief that he had found her before something bad could happen.
-
Crouching just inside the tree line, hidden by the deep shadow of a tall sycamore tree, the silver-haired young man observed silently. He had spotted the girl strolling up the beach barefoot a few minutes earlier, whilst he had been walking quietly through the trees, looking for another victim. She was standing out on a small, rocky peninsula, a dozen or so yards directly ahead of him. Her bags were on the ground nearby, next to her sandy boots. She clutched her hands behind her back as she gazed up into the stars. Her brown hair moved gently with the breeze as she stargazed.
Completely unaware…
He smiled wickedly. He felt eager for the kill, he longed to revel in the sensation of ending the life of another puppet.
Slowly, he lifted himself up from his crouching position, drawing himself up to his full height. His black cloak billowed behind him, revealing the long scabbard at his side. He drew the Masamune slowly, making no noise. He held the sword in both hands, reversing his grip so that the blade pointed down, towards the ground. In the blade's reflective surface, he could see his face. He smiled a twisted smile at his reflection, then turned his attention back to the girl.
He prepared to spring on his unsuspecting prey.
-
The girl looked up at the stars, lost in the infinite depths of the night sky. She reached out with her consciousness, stretching out into the endless whirl of stars and nebulae. She smiled gently when she saw a shooting star streak across the sky. Sighing, she lowered her gaze, so that she could look out across the equally endless sea stretching out before her. There was nothing out there as far as she could see, no ships, no land masses, no lights. Only the endless swells and surf of the ocean waves.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone approaching. A young man, with spiky blonde hair and dark blue clothes was running down the beach towards her. Another smile spread across her face.
He came for me…
A sensation of joy overwhelmed her, and for a moment, her entire existence consisted of the joy of knowing that he had come to find her, to be with her.
But then something interrupted the joy, and brought her roughly back to reality. There was someone else nearby.
Someone hostile.
Somewhere behind her.
She knew his intentions, and she somehow knew that there was no way that she could escape, she could feel it. It felt as if it was fated to be so.
She looked again at the blonde-haired young man running towards her, and felt a pang of sadness.
Why now? Why at all?
I… never had the chance to tell him…
She wished with her whole heart that there could be another way.
-
Cloud stopped dead in his tracks. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew for certain.
As he watched, a silhouette detach itself from the dark mass of the forest at the edge of the beach. It was the silhouette of a quite tall young man, moving with purposeful intent. It took three great strides forwards, then leapt, hurling itself impossibly high into the air.
In a moment of pure clarity Cloud knew what was going to happen, and what he should do, but he could not move, could not speak, could not think, could not do anything. He could not even call out to the girl to warn her. He wanted to do something, anything, even if it were to simply hurl himself in the way.
Reaching the top of its jump, the figure raised its hand above its head, and a long blade glinted in its hands, reflecting the light of the moon. It was a wickedly sharp and long sword, a katana of some kind.
As it began to descend, the figure's hair billowed out behind it, a cascade of silvery-white. Cloud knew who it was. Only one guy in their class had hair like that.
Sephiroth descended, hurtling towards the girl, who stayed where she was, apparently gazing out to sea. The blade reached her first, plunging downwards, into her back. It passed through her and straight out through her chest. Sephiroth landed on the ground, still holding the blade upon which the girl was impaled. The shock of the impact forced her to her knees, and her head tilted forwards, limp. The white-haired young man planted its feet firmly in the ground, and slowly slid the blade from her back, apparently taking some kind of pleasure from what he was doing. When her body slid off the end of the sword, he wiped it clean on her pink dress, leaving a long red steak down the side, across her legs.
Apparently satisfied, he set off back up the peninsula, snatching up her green Program bag as he passed. He continued up the beach, back into the treeline, and out of sight.
She… she can't be…
No… please…
Only then did Cloud feel his body respond, his knees buckling.
He collapsed, landing in the sand face-first. He tasted the salty taste of residual sea water in the sand, and spat convulsively, and began to cough. Realising he could move again, he exerted all his will power, forcing himself up, staggering forwards as fast as he could drive his body to move. He shrugged his two bags from his shoulder to reduce the weight he was carrying, and he began to move faster, towards the peninsula where the girl lay.
Staggering into an upright position, he forced himself into a hurtling run, moving faster than he ever had in his entire life, trying to get closer to the girl on the peninsula, but the distance between them only seemed to increase as he tried harder to reach her.
After a lifetime, he reached the base of the peninsula, and he could now see the spreading pool beneath her. It looked black in the lack of light, but he knew it was blood. He ran at break-neck speed up the peninsula, collapsing to his knees when he finally reached her.
She lay still, a dark stain spreading across the back of her red jacket, He cautiously rolled her over, and saw an even larger stain on the front of her dress.
Shaking with suppressed sobs, he lifted her gently in his arms, and looked down at her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, and her face was set in a peaceful expression, serene, like that of a person in a contented sleep.
"Aerith?" he called quietly, shaking her. "Aerith? Please… please wake up. Aerith? Please, don't leave me!"
He shook her again, slightly harder. Tears were pouring from his eyes now, obscuring his vision, and his hands were becoming slick with the blood pouring from the gaping wound in her back. One of his tears fell from his face and landed on hers, tracing a wet trail down her cheek.
"Aerith! Please, come back!" he cried, shaking her again.
As he shook her, something in her expression changed ever so slightly. He stopped, and remained completely still, trying to work out if his blurry eyes were deceiving him.
"Aerith?" He whispered, hope rising within him.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she managed to focus her gaze on him. She seemed to not recognise him for a moment, and then she smiled.
-
He found me…
"Cloud…" she said, her voice quieter than a whisper.
"I'm here… please, please don't leave me." He begged, holding her closer.
He really isn't as rough as he appears… I was right all along.
She gazed adoringly up at his handsome face, normally neutral in expression. His blonde hair framed his head, like a proud lion's mane. And yet for all his toughness, his face was now filled with anguish and fear, and there was desperation in his eyes, and she knew his heart was breaking for her.
"Oh, Cloud…" she said, her voice growing fainter, her strength leaving her rapidly. Through supreme force of will, she managed to lift her hand up to caress the side of his face. She tried to say something else, but no words came.
Please… don't tear us apart so soon… not when I haven't told him…
But then her strength failed her, and her hand fell back down again. Her eyes slowly closed, and a final breath left her body. Aerith Gainsborough was dead.
"Aerith… no, don't go… I can't… I can't live without you… please, Aerith…"
But she did not come back.
Cloud hugged her close to himself, burying his face in her shoulder. He sobbed loudly, his tears soaking her jacket. Her blood stained his clothes as he held her close, but he didn't care. He couldn't care about anything now.
He felt as if his heart had died with her, the girl he had secretly loved.
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