blue suits
She shouldn't have remembered. She knew that much, at least. Swords and Aeris and Tifa and materia and Planet and Cloud and Vincent and Wutai… and a whole bunch of Turkeys in blue suits.
She shouldn't have remembered—and, then again, she didn't—not till she saw him again. Or at least… was that really him? He had the same tiger green eyes. The same flaming hair framing the same face—same sideways expression. What's different, now? It's still Reno, right? Isn't it? There was nothing holding him down—his hair was free. So, he was a hippie with the body of 13-year-old girl now. Great. So, what? So, he'd traded a black cloak for his blue suit…
Damn. She had so liked those suits.
The black was harsh against his pale skin—she hated it.
…And something was missing.
She knew that much.
The first thing he said was, "Still a bratty skinny-assed ninja kid."
The first thing she said was, "Look who's calling who skinny, Mr. 36-25-36." And then, "It's been a while, Reno!" When she smiled, he frowned. So, she yanked on a lock of his hair.
Something felt empty.
"That's not my name," he said, sharper, probably, than he meant to. She quailed. "It's Axel, now."
"Like Axe Body Spray?" she asked dully, poking him in the arm. The cloak's fabric was cool and smooth under her fingers. Detached, like she couldn't really touch him. She missed the warm, rough canvas of his suit. She missed her fingers in his hair and she missed diving into his eyes.
I missed you… she told him silently.
But for the first time, he didn't hear her.
"I'm—It's…just different now…" he murmured. His hands were shaking. "I don't feel…"
She had fully prepared herself for him to end the statement with "the same." (So, he had been through a lot too. She understood. She understood. Not that she did.) …but he stopped there.
She peeked into his eyes—and they were so…what? Ordinary. That's what. Ordinary. No fire. No passion. Nothing.
So, Yuffie Kisaragi grabbed two handfuls of his jacket, and pulled him too close. Noses brushing—there should have been something there; burning. Nothing. It was… just different. Less.
But this girl had never been one to give up so easily. She kissed him. (Like she was searching.) Nothing. "Feel that?" she demanded. He stayed silent, but there was a desperate sadness about him. Stop it. (For the first time, she didn't hear him.) She kissed him again—this couldn't be it. "Feel it." (He tried. Honest to God, he tried.) But he was blank, blank, blank, when he stared her in the eyes. Stop. She pulled his limp hand to rest over her heart—like he was protecting it from himself. Thumping against his fingertips. "You remember?" She wasn't crying. She wasn't screaming. She wasn't cruel. She wasn't really anything. She just was.
Only one problem… he wasn't.
He nodded. He remembered. She pushed him roughly against the wall, showing him her profile. "So, feel it."
And he said nothing. And he felt nothing. And he was nothing. And nothing was what he left behind when he walked away.
When they found her pouring out tarnished brilliance on the pavement, hours later when the memories were fading again, (and the blue suits were a dream,) she insisted that it wasn't like she cared if he was living or not. It just wasn't. She didn't give a damn if he existed. And that—she told them, grinning like he hadn't torn her apart—ought to have been a good thing.
Because he didn't.
fin
Um… so, I'm evil. What of it, foo? There were no Yuxels out yet when I started this fic, and now there are three. And they're good, too. You should read them. And tell me if you're gonna write one! O.O Hohoho… (annoying laughter) Mucho thanks to Annjirika for beta-ing! You rock like peanut butter with pickles! Review, and I'll give you a virtual m&m.
J.BLUE
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