ODST girl058 - DUN DUN DUNNNN! Is she dead? Maybe. Perhaps. Most likely. I don't know any resurrection spells, so if she's dead, then we won't have Tseng doing voodoo on her. Besides, Reno would kill him if Tseng dressed as the Haitian magician and did funky stuff to her. Ha. Imagine that.
CookieKitten - As I said, probably she's dead. Hey, I'd be dead if someone shot me through the chest. I'm sorry Reno, I just killed your girlfriend. (ducks as Reno swings his EMR) Oh well. Stuff happens. Can't help it. But it'd suck to be either Reno or Arien. I love making my characters miserable...
Echo - This happens. Yeah. Can't tell you much more, mate. Sorry 'bout that. All I can say is that there's definitely a sequel coming up. It stars Vincent as one of the active characters this time, as well as Rufus (NUMBER 1 I WANNA MARRY HIM GUY!) So keep a watch out for it. It's good.
Raspberry Polar Bear - Unfortunately, the entire AC sequence ended last chapter, so now I'm on my own. DAMN YOU, ENIX! Yeah, Arie got shot. The irony, too. Reno, you MURDERER! Yes, I suck. I get that often from Reno. He hates the way everything falls apart around him in the story.
ReapingButNeverGrim - Hey, who knows, maybe Reno's kinky like that. I definitely don't want to test out the theory out, though. If you find out, please tell me. It'd save a lot of brain-wrangling and "arrrgh!"s of frustration that echo throughout the house in midnight. Reno is feeling guilty. Reno is guilty...
NarcissisticRiceball - It can't be Pantene. Pantene makes hairs lustrous in the ads, and Yazoo's hair isn't shiny. Sorry Yaz, your hair needs a little more work. What I want to know is why my hair looks like a nest at the end of the day when it's down and Sephiroth can do pirouettes and manage to get no tangles.
insanity - no, the story is not almost finished. (cries) There's a sequel coming up, starring Reno, Vince, Rufus, e.t.c. So nope, this series isn't finished. And there's also going to be a prequel. I don't think the kid stuck her fingers up his nose. At least, I wouldn't. (EWW) But I thought that'd be funnier.
Sorry guys for the late update. School started, and my computer choked and keeled over last night.
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Chapter 22: Goddamn You, Arie
Arien woke up and wondered why on earth she was lying on a bed. Physicians in lab coats with clipboards were all around her. And to her horror, she was stark naked. Her memory instantly went back to the time when she was captured by Hojo's mad follower, but then she looked at the equipment and sighed in relief. It didn't look like some mad experiment. Just a regular hospital.
A plastic mask was placed over her mouth, and there were tubes sticking into her arm that caused pain when she moved. She sighed and closed her eyes. Whatever would happen would happen. She just could care less.
She fell into the warm, velvety darkness that enveloped her.
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Trrr, trrrr.
"What!" Reno barked, irritated, into the phone. A lot of things irritated him right now. He had just got out of the bed with a random girl he picked up, only to realize that he… just couldn't do it. He kept seeing Arien under him instead of the blond girl he had picked up – Devvie, she said her name was – naked, her raven hair spread on the pillow, her lips parted half-way. Finally, he had yelled at the girl to get the fuck out of the house. He had then promptly fell asleep.
"Mr. Miller?"
Nobody called him Mr. Miller. Everyone called him Reno or Re. Arien occasionally called him Renaldo. His parents called him Rennie (his mother) or Ren (his father). Nobody used his last name. No one.
"Mr. Miller?"
"This is," he replied, controlling his voice. Keep cool, Reno, he told himself. Don't let him know that you're a Turk… or potentially dangerous. "May I help you?"
"I believe you can, Mr. Miller." For some reason that reply struck him as exorbitantly snobbish. "Do you know a woman by the name Arien DeVir?"
Reno dropped the phone.
"Mr. Miller?" the phone was saying. "Mr. Miller?"
"Yes, yes, I know her," Reno replied after he switched the phone to speaker, too lazy to pick the handset up.
"Good. I can't seem to track down any of the others. I'm very sorry to inform you, but she did not survive the treatment. The bullet was taken out, but she didn't last through. She ah… passed away last night."
Reno stopped his hand from lighting a cigarette. "She… was living?"
"Just barely. Scans showed that she carried Geostigma, which was cured under that curious rain. But her body gave up." The voice was very impersonal. He realized that he was slowly crumbling the cigarette in his hand, and dropped it like it was on fire. Still, the leaves clung to his fingers.
So Arien had lived. She had watched – or heard – Reno walk away. She had felt the soothing rain which had relieved her of Geostigma. She had Geostigma. She had felt the blood drip out of her, unable to stop it, unable to do anything. And she never told him. Someone probably found her, took her to the hospital. Where she went through a surgery. And died. Geostigma didn't kill her. He did.
"Mr. Miller?" The impersonal voice drifted from the set. "Would it be possible for you to come here to retrieve the body? You were the only one we could get in contact with."
"Uh… yeah, sure," he replied absently. "I'll be there."
-----
Picking up the corpse of his lover was one thing. Setting up a funeral was another. Going against Wutai traditions, he refused to have her cremated. He just couldn't bear the thought of watching that beautiful body, the body which had given him pleasure and joy, burn to ashes. He just couldn't do it.
There weren't too many people to invite. Shiv and the group came, of course; then Arien's father, and the Turks. Myers DeVir had aged another decade by his elder daughter's death, but when Reno told him the truth, he only nodded and whispered, "Thank you."
"Why thanks?" Reno had asked curiously, a little guiltily, facing the seaside. Her grave was to be on a cliff that faced the sea, the very nature that Arien had always loved. Myers shrugged.
"Arien would not have wished to die by giving into the illness. Dying by the hands of someone she loved would have been her wish. Your hands."
"But that's selfish," he said angrily. "I get the guilt. She's dead."
"Arien was selfish," Myers agreed. "But that was her wish." He dug his hand into the front of his kimono and produced a large envelope. "From Arien."
Reno took it without a word and walked away, to see her for the last time, to say farewell. Arien was dressed in a pale, white gown that was half-sheer; her hair was brushed and on her shoulders. She looked as if she was asleep, with a slight smile on her face. Her eyes were closed, but he remembered the icy hue of her irises. Her mouth was closed.
"Final see," the funeral person said quietly.
Reno bade goodbye to his lover silently, without a word. A hot tear rolled down his face, and he blinked to keep a clear focus. He didn't understand why he was crying. He was done with crying, really. He was done. Besides, she was just another woman. Another name in the long list of those who had shared his bed.
He tossed a single lily into her coffin, then walked away, unable to watch the crew nail down the coffin lid and bury her into the ground. He wanted the last memory of her to be the sleeping face of her, not the fact that she was getting buried. He sat on the cliff – away from the edge – and after making sure that everybody else was engrossed in the funeral procedure, he opened the envelope.
Inside it were sheaves of paper, with dark blue-black writings on them. They were beautiful calligraphy, the precise handwriting that he knew so well. The i's were dotted, t's lined. Some of the words were blurred as if the writer had cried, but it was still legible. After making up his mind, he began to read:
Dear Reno,
By the time you're reading this it's either I'm with you or I'm gone. I understand if you hate me – I would hate you too if you just walked off like I did – and I don't ask for forgiveness. I really don't. What's forgiveness to the dead anyways? And if I'm with you, you've probably forgiven me. But I think you deserve the truth, because I wasn't truthful before. That's one thing I learned as I thought about our relationship – most problems occur between couples because they aren't completely honest to each other. Oh well, what can I do? Hopefully you'll be completely honest with your next girl, if you weren't with me.
Virginity meant a lot to me. It would be the first time for me; the one who would have my virginity was probably going to be someone special for me. You're probably frowning because I sound like a hopeless romantic, but it's true. I didn't pick you because you seemed to be "good" about it; how would I know? I honestly don't know why I picked you, but I don't regret my choice. I was afraid that night – remember? – that I would regret giving it up to you, but for some reason, although I expected you to treat me like a one-night-stand and walk off to your next conquest, I didn't regret it. Such is your charm, I guess.
The true reason why I walked off was because I believed I was a fatal danger to all of you – Tseng, Rufus, Rude, Elena – and especially you. I should have told you, but I didn't, which is my mistake. Rufus knew about this, but nothing else. Well, half of it.
I had Geostigma, and unlike Rufus, mine was progressing rapidly. You're probably wondering why you never saw the tell-tale marks, although you saw me naked many times. I had the tell-tale marks on my scalp. The time I keeled over in the shower? That was Geostigma. I didn't want to worry you – and it was a very juvenile choice – so I didn't say anything. Rufus didn't say anything either. He found it out by accident – I didn't tell him.
Remember the time in Costa del Sol when a very odd hook lanced through my wrist? It turned out that the hook transmitted a certain kind of virus. Totally harmless when alone – but it turned my Geostigma into something extremely viral. I was also having visitations by a certain relative who was threatening to harm you and the rest of the Turks if I didn't divulge the information about Jenova's location (and no, it's not my Father. You won't believe who my relative is – or was, I'm hoping). I couldn't stay. I had to leave.
I tried to make you hate me so it'll be easier on me – and I was hoping also on you. I probably screwed that up. But to be honest, that last night was the most bittersweet moment in my life. I was with you for the last time.
The last few lines looked like a scrawl rather than a neat handwriting, but Reno read on anyways.
It's 1:00 AM right now, and I'm given command by the group which is hiding me to kill you. I know I won't be able to. It's a misunderstanding, so please don't go hunt them down.
I love you. I was never able to say it ever. But I say it now, as my last words to you. I love you. I love you so much, not in the rosy kind of way, but I feel terribly incomplete without you. I love you. I love you, I love you…
Arien
"Goddamnit!" Reno yelled, ripping the grass out from beside him in fury. "Goddamn you, Arie. Why couldn't you tell me? Goddamn you!"
Hot tears were now rolling down his cheeks freely without restraint. He did not even realize it. "You loved me. And I can admit it, I loved you. I still do. Your friggin' mistake cost both of us, Arie!" He shouted. Then he stood up. He looked into his right hand, which kept ripping at the grass. In his hand was a single clover flower, one of Arien's favorite flowers. "It's so small," she used to say. "Insignificant but still trying to look beautiful, to live. Just like me."
He tossed the flower into the swirling ocean below. It drew a white arc and disappeared into the blue. He felt a light breeze on his cheek, and looked in surprise.
He had a vague feeling that a soft hand had touched his cheek – or perhaps a pair of lips. But when he looked, it was gone.
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Arien DeVir felt the excruciating pain in her chest and opened her eyes. It took a while to figure out where she was; it looked like she was in a box. Why the heck was she in a box?
She had to think quickly. She was suffocating. She could not breathe, and her nightvision was turning crimson. She clawed at the box, and to no avail.
"Pi… Pink Floyd!" She gasped, unsure of if she could actually do anything in emergency. She had been trained by Passione to use her stand efficiently, but never in an uncontrolled condition. Like now.
Pink Floyd was destructive, and thus she had never used it. It had the ability to literally disintegrate any non-living thing into an atomic level with merely a touch. It also could morph itself into any form.
But she needed to use it now. And very quickly.
Pink Floyd moved fluidly as her thought dictated, and punched a hole without a noise or splinters into the wall. Soil came tumbling down through the hall and she clamped her mouth shut. So this was how it was. She was buried underground. And alive.
She urged her doppelganger to obliterate the soil, and it did. She clambered out of the pit.
It was cold; the wind bit into her skin. And she was dressed in a very flimsy gown. Above her head, stars twinkled, splashes of diamonds on black velvet. Her hair was down. And by her head was a large stone. Her gravestone.
She wondered where she was, and vaguely thought that it reminded her of Wutai. It probably was, then. She began to walk under the starlight and the moonlight, her bare feet treading on the grass and the hard ground. She shivered in the cold.
As she walked down the cliff, she started to see lights. Yes, they were definitely familiar. She knew where she was now. Incidentally, it was the very place her family and she had come to picnic when she was seven. Fancy to be buried in a place where she had a picnic years before. It was Wutai.
She descended the cliff and made way through the empty avenues until she located her destination. Leaning on the wall wearily and rubbing her arms to keep warm, she rang the doorbell, hoping and wishing that the resident would be awake. Or be awakened.
The light flipped on, padding footsteps were heard, there was a clink, and the door opened. Arien sighed as the warmth from the inside rushed onto her. It was very cold.
Myers DeVir stared at his dead daughter, wondering if he was having a nightmare.
"Father," the ghost pleaded, "I'm very cold. It's freezing outside. I'm not dead, but I will be if you leave me to fend for myself out here. May I please come in?"
"But… but…" he pointed at her. "You are dead."
"I wasn't, obviously." She was getting irritated. "Could I please come in? I would really die if I stay out here."
Myers stepped aside, wondering if he wasn't inviting in a ghost. He decided that he really didn't care. The white, slender figure walked in, her feet bare. Her cheeks were pale, and her lips were nearly blue.
"It's warm in here," the figure commented.
"Are you really Arien?"
"I hope so," the figure replied thoughtfully. "I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, but I'm extremely tired."
Myers nodded.
"I was in a coma and I was legally dead by all means. I came back to life in the coffin." She shook her head wearily. "Who gave the funeral?"
"Your boyfriend. I gave him your letter."
"Ah." She threw her pale feet in front of the fire. "I see." She shook her head again. "Poor Reno. I'm cured of Geostigma, but he thinks I'm dead." She threw her head back suddenly and laughed loudly, but tears were streaming down her face. "Poor Reno…"
