Author's Note: Ahh, it's been so long since I posted something... but, well, ZX deserves the love. This is a little one-shot based in Area I, the imprisionment facility. I suggest you have played through Vent's side before reading this, although there aren't really any spoilers... or at least, nothing you'd be able to recognize as such. Confusing as that is, let's just say beat the game with Vent first, then read. The rating is for dear Model F's tongue at one point. As a minor note, this fic uses the japanese names and terms. Live with it
This fic has a dedication. It's a gift for RoseKitsune.EXE, whom I have very recently befriended and started to beta-read for. (I swear the delays between chapters are not my fault!)
This one is for you, Roze-chan, as a wish for a lasting and enjoyable friendship!
As a last note, if you enjoy the fic and would like to see more similar to it from me, try to drop a review. I actually have a series of one-shots for Vent and Giro, starting from when they first met, that I'm contemplating writing. Already got the first six or so planned out in my head. If there's some interest, I'll write those out and put them up as well.
Without further rambling, I hope you enjoy Thunderclap.
There was the hiss of hydraulics as a door managed to slide open with a whine of protest from gears that had clearly fallen into disuse. This was followed by the heavy thud of someone trampling none too lightly into the building, the slick and wet soles of armored footwear squeaking most painfully against the steel surface of the flooring. Said floor actually appeared to be only a giant, uncovered pipe. Someone had built this facility with only the minium expenses...
"I," Vent announced to the air, which meant he was actually speaking to the Live Metals accompanying him, "hate rain. I hate it. A lot."
'Awww, you're no fun.' cooed a feminine voice inside his head, the exact location of which Vent had always thought to be somewhere close behind the inside of his right ear. 'I thought it was a rather nice change of weather.'
'You call nearly been blown into a Galleon foot soldier a 'nice' change of weather?' Another voice, this one seemed to prefer hovering just over the left side of his lower jaw, spoke up dryly. 'Although, I'm rather interested in the cause of the abnormal weather conditions in this area. This facility must be releasing some sort of electromagnetic--'
'Dammit, H,' a third, raucous voice interrupted, 'I swear if you start up that techno-babble one more time I'm going to--'
'Shut up. All of you.' A fourth voice commanded flatly, ending the conversation before it could turn into a squabble. 'Vent,' the fourth continued, which was highly unusual as it was usually a conscious entity of very few words, 'You can stand there all day and half the night, but you're never going to wring all the water from that hair.'
Vent paused, hands half-way through the wild mane of blond hair that the normally brunet teen still hadn't quite adjusted himself to the presence of. There was another vicious squeeze, and what appeared to be roughly a gallon of water fell onto the steel-covered floor below. The boy watched with a sinking feeling as the water continued to rapidly drip downwards, although how far was entirely beyond his guessing, he couldn't even hear it hit whatever was below the impromptu catwalk he stood on. Something in Model Z's voice told him that the Live Metal was definitely speaking from experience.
'Either way,' Model X said calmly, 'we had best continue on.'
'Before the enemy becomes aware of our presence due to the dripping of wet hair.' The unproclaimed ninja of the group agreed. If it had been any of the other Live Metals, Vent would've taken that remark as a jest. Model P, however, was always deadly serious, even if his wording was sometimes odd.
Vent heaved a sigh. "Yeah, yeah..." he mumbled, deciding that heading to the right was probably the best course of action, given that the left was quite frankly a wall. One could tell from his tone of voice that he was less than enthused with the current circumstances. Trying to pretend that the horrendous squeaking noise of his shoes against the flooring didn't exist definitely wasn't working, so he found he had to start talking again, if only to drown it out.
"The lighting here is terrible, and the whole place seems like it's going to start falling apart soon..."
'It would appear that it has been unoperational for a great deal of time.' Model X's voice floated from everywhere. It was rather strange, the four other Live Metals Vent could always 'picture' as coming from inside his head, while Model Z sounded like he was actually outside of Vent's body. Model X's voice, though, was simply there, filling in every space that was left empty, even the places Vent hadn't known were devoid of anything else. 'I am rather concerned, as well, as to what exactly the purpose of this facility was...'
'The whole thing is rather strange.' Model H added on, continuing from where Model X had trailed off. 'We saw some large fans not too far back, but there wasn't any visible sort of mechanism that required cooling or ventaliation.'
'It's creepy. Let's leave it at that and just get on with it.' Model F suggested.
'This may be a sign of the coming apocalypse, but for once I concur.' Model L remarked, amusement lacing her mental voice.
'Hey! Why you--'
Model Z's voice, clearly irritated, broke in a second time. 'Didn't I just tell you all to--'
'Vent!' Model P shouted, which was quite jarring coming from the normally silent member of the group, 'An enemy has spotted us!'
Attention snapping back to his immediate surroundings, Vent's vision darted to a single, glowing red sphere in the darkened backdrop of the building. His hand was already moving to grab the handle of his buster gun when he noticed the hum of a standard infantry unit buster weapon.
Not enough time.
All other noises were momentarily muted by the explosive roar of a buster abruptly coming to life just as Vent activated the dash function. Soaking wet strands of gold splayed limply behind him instead of their usual elegant flare, the edge of an energy shot just missing the ends.
Suddenly Vent became painfully aware that the path cut off right in front of him, the rest of the piping having succumbed to its own weight and fallen below. The teen quickly slammed his feet back onto the ground, but with his current momentum combined with the slickness of his soles, it wasn't nearly enough to stop him in time, and he went sailing clear off the ledge.
Instinctively, Vent thrust his hand out before him, Model H's name on his lips to call forth the Live Metal of Wind's aerial abilities.
Unfortunately, gravity proved to be faster.
Consciousness came back to Vent slowly, but one thing was definitely noticable from the start.
"...Ow."
Gingerly pushing himself up to a sitting position on the cold metal floor, Vent reached one gloved hand up to his head, wincing slightly as his vision swam from the movement.
... Wait, gloved hand?
Pulling his hand away, Vent inspected it to find that he was, in fact, out of his transformed state. Tentatively, he tried reaching out to where the Live Metals usually inhabited the back of his mind, only to find nothing. This felt like a good time to panic.
"You certainly seem to have an affinity for falling from great heights, don't you?" a soft, gentle voice with a ring of laughter spoke from his left.
Vent whipped his neck around for the second time in as many minutes, ignoring the pain it caused him. He knew that voice.
A few feet away, casually seated near a large support beam, was Girouette. The blond smiled kindly, just like he used to years ago when cleaning a cut or scrape Vent had acquired while playing soccer with the other boys. "Feeling alright?"
Vent blinked. And blinked again. Surely something was wrong with this picture... but then why did he feel so at ease?
"Sempai?"
"Yes?"
"... What am I doing?" Vent found himself blinking once more. He wasn't sure what he had meant to say, but he was pretty sure that wasn't it.
Girouette cocked his head to the left slightly, causing his right bangs to obscure vision slightly. It was a motion the blond did whenever Vent asked a strange question. "What do you think?"
"Well, um... saving people and stopping Serpent and everything, but... why am I here?" Vent asked again, feeling helplessly lost. "I... I'm just a stupid kid, right? I, I shouldn't be doing this kind of--"
"Vent." Girouette's voice had gone softer, but Vent could still hear him clearly. "Surely, after coming this far, you don't still hold that sort of doubt? You've become so much stronger a person than you were before."
"But," Vent said again, his voice taking on a hint of desperation, "I don't feel strong! I feel confused! Like I... I don't even know why I'm doing this anymore..."
"You want to protect everyone, don't you? So that nobody else has to experience the pain you have dealt with." Girouette, with his head still tilted to the side, queried of the teen.
"Well, yeah, but... is that really the only reason I'm out here, fighting?"
"Ah." Girouette smiled again, the smile that said he had figured out what was wrong. "I certainly hope it isn't the only reason. After all, you made a promise to the Live Metals, a promise to me, didn't you?"
"Yeah..." Vent confirmed, voice barely audible. "Sempai... why... why did you do... what you did?"
"You want to know the reason I fought?"
"Yes." Vent answered, his returning to its normal volume, and he looked Girouette in the eye. "Please, I have to know! Why did you save me?"
To Vent's surprise, Girouette gave a low chuckle. "That's a silly question."
Again, Vent found himself blinking in confusion. "It... is?"
"Mhmm." Girouette gracefully pushed himself from the floor, taking a moment to dust off his white pants. "Because, over all the years... all the time we had together... you became very important to me."
"You're important to me!" Vent cried, and the teen felt again that he no longer really knew what he was saying, but the words rang true to him all the same. His eyes fell to the floor. "That's why I want to fight, to protect the people important to me! To... protect you... But, but now you're..."
"Vent."
At the sound of his name, Vent looked back up, and found Girouette was now standing by an open doorway, gazing outside, the door having already opened while Vent had been staring down. Outside the weather was still miserable, the rain coming down in a torrential, never-ending fall. Lightning flashed outside, almost instaneously followed by the low rumbling of thunder.
The lightning was gone as soon as it came, but the light that had caught Girouette's hair didn't fade. The thick curtain of gold seemed to glow softly, like the first ray of sunlight to break through the stormclouds. Faint, but it lit up its surroundings just as well as a sky full of blue. Perhaps more beautifully, for how precious it was.
Casting a glance over his shoulder, Girouette smiled to Vent again.
"Vent... I'm right here."
'Hey, Vent!'
'Vent, wake up!'
'... I don't think this is working.'
'You guys aren't shouting loudly enough.' Model F said dismissively. 'See, you've got to do it like this: VEEEE--'
"AAAAAAAAAH!"
'... He actually did it.' Model L remarked, mildly surprised.
'And nearly killed our hearing in the process.' Model H grumbled.
Vent, not hearing the Live Metals conversing amongst themselves for the moment, looked around wildly without really seeing anything. "Wha... what...Sem..."
'Sem?' Model X asked quietly. A little more awake now, Vent examined his surroundings. There was the support beam over there, and that was the door... He had been dreaming, hadn't he? But he had never seen this place before, so how could he have pictured it so perfectly?... 'Vent.'
"Eh?" Vent mumbled, suddenly aware that Model X had been trying to catch his attention. "What is it?"
'Are you feeling alright?'
It took Vent a moment to shake of the deja vu from hearing such a familar statement again. "Y-yeah, I'm fine... was just a little disoriented for a moment."
'Then let's get on with it already!' Model F said impatiently. 'I wanna kick some ass and hurry up and get myself together again!'
'I don't think you were ever really all 'there' to start with.' Model H remarked dryly again. Model L giggled as Model F fumed.
'Are you ready to begin battling again?' Model P directed towards Vent. Vent thought about this seriously for a moment, unconsciously gripping at the material of his shirt that lay over his heart.
Slowly, he grinned, just a little. "Yeah, I am. I really am." With that statement, the teen hopped back to his feet, calling on the power of Model ZX and dashing towards the exit.
'... Well, he's suddenly a lot more chipper.' Model L commented.
'I wonder what happened?' Model H mused.
'Eh, maybe a bump to the head straightened him out.' Model F suggested.
'No, F, that only works for you.'
'Hey! What exactly is that supposed to--'
'Z?' Model X questioned suddenly.
'... Hm?' came the reply.
'You're quieter than usual. Is something bothering you?'
'No. Nothing's wrong.' Model Z reassured. 'Just a ghost of a thought.'
Life can be compared to a flash of lightning. Powerful, unpredictable, and for the time that it exists, it illuminates everything around it brilliantly. Then it ends.
Sometimes, however, an echo of a life remains. And like a clap of thunder, it can still be noticable.
Sometimes, even more than the lightning that came before, if one is listening.
