Daddy's Disappointment
Author's Notes: I just read over the first chapter and it reminded me just how long it's been since I started this story. I think my writing style has changed somewhat since then. Anyway, let me thank everyone that took the time to leave a review. URSURP, Cheerlygal, J.L. Zielesch, Ittan, Tori101, Ali Twihart, Iffritman56, Trev James, RavennaAngelline, Naya Angel-Wings Heartilly, and The 666th Necrophiliac. Thank you all for your reviews, and thank you also to those anonymous reviewers. I got twelve for the first chapter. Twelve! Three were somewhat in-depth. And one of those was long! And better yet, none of them were trolls! Unlike Lucy of the Leaf. Anyway, I think I responded to you all, if I didn't, I apologise, and I hope you all continue to read this one, despite the long wait
Maybe this could have worked as a one-shot, but that wasn't the initial plan, so here you go. Chapter two. I split this in half because it got too long. I cut off the last third and still managed to reach my five thousand word target. Oh well, I think I still managed to move things a little, but it'll be probably another two chapters before things settle down. However long it takes me to get that far. Anyway, I hope you'll all enjoy this one. It has an action scene, complete with cheesy dialogue, and one of my reoccurring characters. I'm sure anyone who's read my other ff8 stories will be able to guess whom it is. Also who can pick up on the Mr Creedy reference? Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII
The Escape
With eyes closed tight, there was only darkness. Without sound, there was only silence. Dark. Never ending. But not oppressive. Rinoa was not a girl who detested the quiet. On the contrary, she had grown to love it, to depend on it. Solitude was an instrument of safety. Like a restraining order against the world.
Silence was her salvation. Unlike the crashing of pans heard off in the distance. The slamming of doors. The stamping of feet against the carpeted hallway.
Coming closer. Approaching from the distance.
Something was coming.
He was coming. For her!
Rinoa ceased to breathe as she heard the unmistakable sound of her bedroom door swinging on its hinges, as it violently swung open. Loudly colliding with the corner wall.
With a sickly mixture of curiosity and dread, Rinoa opened her eyes as she felt the blood drain from her cheeks.
Chocolate brown eyes opened to the natural light shining through the window from the late evening sky.
Eyes opened to blue walls and a white ceiling.
Eyes opened to shelves lined with countless books. Fantasy and romance novels, all of them. Tales that could take her away from here and let her visit places unseen by the human eye. If escapism were for the weak, then Rinoa's gym membership card had been revoked.
Eyes opened to the large collection of stuffed animals on her back wall. All kept well, in nearly pristine condition since the early years of her childhood when she'd received them as gifts.
Eyes opened to grey carpet, on which the girl sat huddled in the corner. A plush penguin under her left arm, her right hand only at that minute frozen, its fingers ending the continuous movement of stroking the luxuriously soft, white fur of the plush bird's belly.
Eyes opened to the sight of her father. Leering down at her. Visibly angry.
"What have you done?" he spat hatefully.
Rinoa blanched. If only she knew the answer to that very question. She wanted to ask what was wrong. Why her father was so upset. Why he was so angry with her. What had happened? Why was he in such a bad mood? Did he have a rough day? Were things going poorly at work? Is that why he always came home so sour? Or was home the problem? Did the man simply loathe the prospect that he had no spouse waiting for him, or of coming home to such a useless daughter?
He hated her.
Rinoa wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask what he wanted of her. She wanted to say so many things, but she wouldn't. She couldn't. She had lost her voice. Of that moment, she was mute. She couldn't speak.
"Where is it?" the man snapped at his daughter. What was it? What was he talking about? "I know you've done something." Rinoa narrowed her eyes. She didn't understand. Suddenly, the man grasped at her shirt, pulling her up from her spot on the floor, causing her to drop the child's comforting toy.
Widened, fearful eyes peered into those of her father's. What was happening? This man was not her father. Her father never lost control like this. He was strict, disciplined, and cold. Sure, but he never lost it like this. He was always in control. Of himself, and all others. For him to lose his temper like this. Rinoa was afraid.
Anything could happen.
"I'm growing sick and tired of your childish games, Rinoa," the man said in a firm tone.
"I don't know what you mean," Rinoa was finally able to answer.
"Don't lie to me!" Caraway demanded, throwing his teen daughter across the room by her clothing. "Ignorance is also a crime. Surely even you know that much." Rinoa's eyes closed in pain as she turned her head from the man.
The Man's opinion of his daughter had been quite clear for some time, but it still hurt her when he voiced it out loud. She may have been her mother's daughter, but she could never hope to be her replacement.
Rinoa would never live up to her father's expectations. She would always be a failure. She would always be a disappointment. Daddy's disappointment.
She looked up at her father from her new position on the floor, cringing reflexively as he approached. Each slow, drawn out step brought him closer to the quivering, wretched form of his worthless daughter.
He looked down at her. Her raven hair, strands of which had fallen over her face. Her eyes shut tight as though such a feeble response could save her from this predicament. The girl's standard reaction. It never helped. It had never worked in the past, and it would not work now.
The only thing it accomplished was to make her seem weak and pathetic. She was pitiful. When was she going to mature and become a person of her own? The way she lay, sprawled out on the floor. So helpless, weak, and pathetic.
Then his eye flickered downward. Her arm was moving across the carpeted floor. Reaching for something.
She clasped something. Pulled it to her, hugged it to her chest.
It was that plush toy. That plush penguin. She was sixteen years old and she was still relying on these pointless children's toys for comfort? It was no wonder she never went out anymore. All her friends were out doing things more suited to their age, while she was in here cuddling with worthless plush animals as though they shared a mutual connection. Perhaps they could bond through their shared triviality and ineptitude.
The man's lip curled, pulling into a smirk, but the grin didn't meet his eyes. They never did, never had. Making eye-contact, the pairs were locked on to one another. His daughter was unable to look away. Captivated by the silent expression of her father's scorn. Of his contempt and loathing.
Reaching down, he ripped the animal from her reach. He would do her a favour. This would be for her own good.
Caraway averted his gaze from the penguin, focusing instead upon the horrified eyes of his daughter. He spoke two words to her before leaving. Before walking out, leaving the girl alone. Taking the penguin with him. Never to be seen again.
Two words, he said. And two words only. He turned his back on her and made for the exit, turning to face her before taking that last step into the hallway. His eyes narrowed disdainfully as they bore holes into his daughter's skin like acid. And when he spoke, his tone was no less harsh than his gaze.
"Grow up," he spat, his voice like venom, filled with contempt.
After having bid his daughter farewell, Caraway departed the bedroom, stopping only to close the door harshly behind him.
Rinoa's body shuddered uncontrollably. And lip trembling, she closed her eyes before her muscles gave in to the carpet's concerned embrace. She lay on the floor, silently weeping, mourning the loss of her beloved gift. The plush penguin, given to her by Squall all those years ago. It was the last remaining physical attachment she had to him. And now, it was gone forever. Taken from her without remorse, by her cold, cruel disciplinarian.
Something had to change. Rinoa couldn't continue living like this.
Something had to change.
The next sound Rinoa heard was that of a key turning in its lock. The lock in her bedroom door! It was locked on both sides, and without the only key, Rinoa had no means of opening it. She was trapped in her own room as though it were a prison cell.
He had locked her in.
The girl exhaled and opened her eyes. A momentary reprieve before getting back to work. Placing the last few necessary items in her backpack, she gave a sigh of relief that she was now finished. Sending shifting, anxious glances to the clock behind her, she noticed that it was past eight o'clock. If she didn't hurry, she'd be late.
Turning her head back to a more natural angle, she looked down, noting the many schoolbooks and papers that now littered the centre of her tidy bedroom floor.
She should hide these papers somewhere; put them somewhere out of sight. If anyone were to see them, they would become instantly suspicious. Either way, it didn't really matter. By the time that man returned, Rinoa would be long gone.
Living in this hole had been too much. It couldn't continue. It had to stop. Something had to change. She couldn't go on living like this. She couldn't. If that man would not stop treating her this way, then the best solution was for her to disappear.
She doubted she would be missed. All in all, she would finally be giving him what he wanted. That man would rather be without a daughter than have one as useless as Rinoa, and Rinoa would rather die than continue living in that man's presence.
This had been a long time coming. That situation with the penguin had simply pushed things over the edge. He had gone too far.
Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she gave a weary sigh. It was time for her to leave.
She gave one last glance to the artefacts that littered her room. Her books, her childhood comforts. Those plush animals, such a large collection; she'd miss each and every one of them, but not nearly as much as the one that had been taken from her: The one Squall had given her.
Would he be able to forgive her for losing it? Would he even care? Would he hate her for it?
Probably not, Rinoa concluded. After all, when Squall came to visit that one time, he'd considered it strange that she'd even kept it all this time. He hadn't even remembered giving it to her.
She was the only one who had put so much thought into the gesture, into the inanimate object. She felt so stupid for showing so much care to the plush toy, as though it were actually alive, as though it could return her affection. As though it were actually Squall himself. But on the other hand, to do so, it felt so right. Rinoa couldn't help the smile that warmed her features at the thought
With her backpack securely fastened around her shoulders, Rinoa stepped into the hallway and carefully closed her bedroom door behind her, blocking the sight from her, obscuring it with a white panel of wood. Blocking the sight from her. Hopefully, for the last time.
Making her way down the hall, her body froze as she came to pass the centre of the long corridor-like room, her body adjacent to the door of the master bedroom. Her father's room.
Ducking her head inside, she noticed something. Small, leather, brown. Her father's wallet. Carefully, cautiously, she approached. Sneaking into her father's bedroom. Adrenaline pushed her on. A mix of excitement and terror raced through her mind and body, making her light-headed.
Trembling hands grasped the wallet, opening it. Ignoring the identification and credit cards, her fingers went straight for the cash, glancing around habitually for any of the people absent who might walk by and see her.
Extracting it, she counted the money. Two thousand exactly, all in two hundred Gil notes.
The girl quickly pocketed the cash and placed the wallet back where she'd found it. Exactly how she'd found it.
With that done, she hastened her exit. She didn't want to be caught now. Walking downstairs, she stopped by the kitchen to pick up a quick meal for her hungry, empty stomach before making her way outside.
Stepping over the threshold, stepping out of the warm mansion and into the cold, mid-morning air, Rinoa closed the door, leaving it unlocked. As per usual. Just like she had every morning since starting high school.
She walked down the long, black tar driveway and through the similarly coloured metal gate, closing it with a tinny clang as cold metal slapped metal.
Shuddering from the cold, Rinoa made her way for the nearest bus stop.
The good thing about her father's house was that it was so conveniently located. Just across the road was a walkway leading to the gateway at the centre of Deling City. Just up the road was the local rent-a-car. The shopping arcade was a short bus-ride in one direction, and the train station was likewise, a short ride in the other.
Looking to her recently liberated cell phone, she saw that the time was twenty minutes past eight o'clock in the morning. She'd missed bus Number Five. On any other Friday, that would be the cause for panic. Today however, that wasn't such a big deal.
She didn't need to worry about being late for school. She'd never have to think about Vinzor Deling High School again, with its unpleasant teachers and awful students. Never again would she need to breathe the smog-smothered air of Deling City. In just a few short hours, she'd be free.
She didn't have to walk very far. The bus stop was almost directly outside her house.
Reaching their destination, Rinoa's legs ceased their movements. She searched the timetable on display at the bus stop as her hand fed its possessed food to her hungry mouth.
Assuming she hadn't missed it, Bus number eight would be along any minute now. Of course, there was no reason whatsoever to trust the bus service. In this city, services such as this rarely followed their pre-propositioned schedules.
Buses were almost never on time. And why would they be? It wasn't as though people relied on them to be on time. It wasn't as though the drivers were being paid to meet their schedules.
Turning her gaze to the road, she saw it coming in the distance. The bus. There it was. The large, heavy vehicle. Black metal; with a decorative, dark red trim. A trail of noxious fumes trailed behind it. The large, luminous '08' glowed on its front, above the windscreen, shining eerily amongst the morning air.
Rinoa looked longingly to the food in her hand. It would not be allowed on board the bus. With one final, lament-filled bite, she allowed the unfinished mass of her breakfast to drop into the filthy gutter below her.
She reached into her pants pocket for her wallet and pulled out her bus pass. It was a red card containing the logo of the bus company, as well as a serial number, expiry date, and other information. It entitled her to unlimited bus travel within the city until the end of the month.
Gradually, the bus drew to a halt beside its designated stop. The doors opened sideways with the hiss of compressed air, giving the girl access.
Stepping up, Rinoa showed her pass to the driver, who nodded her on. She walked down the aisle, finding a seat at the back of the bus. Deling Station was only a short ride away. It wouldn't take long to get there, she lived close by.
Placing her pass back inside her wallet, she slipped the black, leather item in her pocket and turned her attention to the window, watching as the houses on the other side of the glass sped by, left behind. This street, this city, this country, her father; she would leave them all behind. She would never have to deal with them again. Never again.
Rinoa allowed herself a sigh of relief. Things were progressing as she'd hoped they would. Slowly, the corners of her lips pulled upward, as though by hooks. For an uncountable moment, the situation got the best of the raven haired girl dressed in black and blue. She smiled.
The bus ride was a short one, and after passing only a few more stops, the large vehicle pulled out of the residential district and came to a halt beside the large, decorative water fountain that marked the city's entrance. For many, this would be their first sight of the city. Particularly for the majority of commuters who came here by train.
The sight of the fountain was an extravagant welcome to new residents. Rinoa remembered her first sight of the brilliant artefact. She remembered how her entire world had just been shattered, and how her mood had instantly brightened by the sight.
Once at her destination, Rinoa stepped off the bus. The girl smiled as she noticed several young children playing in the water. They must have been below school age. So young. Sheltered and protected from the hardships of this world.
Children commonly played in and around the fountain. It was a large area. The fountain marked a three-way intersection in the road. Despite this, most parents saw no reason for their children to stay away from the popular play area. Rinoa remembered the one time she'd played there, and the lecturing consequence that had followed.
City officials were always trying to keep the area clear and clean. This fountain was the city's image. Feats of architecture such as this and the gateway to the north: a massive stone arch located in the centre of the city, were the key to tourism in Deling City.
The Shopping Arcade was located to the east of the fountain. To the west, was the residential district from which Rinoa had come. To the south lay her destination. A sheltered mass of asphalt. Walls, roofs and rails jutted up from the ground.
Merchants selling snacks and drinks. Some offered newspapers. Others sold various souvenirs to those who may have been visitors to the city.
Rinoa had arrived at the chaotically busy train station. The starting-point of almost every railway line on the Galbadian continent.
Sending casual glances toward the various electronic timetables hanging from the ceiling, their ever-changing, luminous LED displays informing her of the small wait she had before her. She had about ten minutes until the train was due to arrive. From there, it was predicted to depart from platform three, twenty minutes later. She had thirty minutes to board the train before she missed it.
It seemed a thirty minute wait was her best bet. The train to Timber from Platform Seven was leaving at any moment. There was no way Rinoa would make it.
Her best bet was to head into the ticket office and purchase a ticket to the Desert region with a two-point transfer to Timber, and then Balamb.
With her plan of action sorted, it was relatively easy for Rinoa to follow through. She visited the ticket office first. While she could have bought her ticket on the train, this way was quicker. This way, she'd have everything ready for the train's guard. He'd merely need to check and punch her ticket.
Rinoa didn't like holding people up. That was something she'd acquired from her time as Caraway's daughter. If nothing else, she'd learned to be punctual.
It had been a simple procedure. Unfortunately, she'd overlooked one minor detail.
"So, one ticket to Dingo Station, with two transfers. That'll be four thousand Gil."
Rinoa had neglected one important factor. She needed money.
Even with the cash she'd taken from her father, she was short. She still needed another two thousand. What was she to do?
"Uh, how much if I just want to go straight to Timber?" The ticket woman gave an exasperated sigh.
"Timber Express is Three thousand."
"Um, where can I go for two thousand?"
"During Peak hours, two thousand Gil will get you to Dingo Station, which borders on Galbadia's Desert region."
"What about off-peak?"
"Off peak, you can go to Dingo Station and have enough left for a transfer to Timber."
"That sounded like her best option. At least she'd be half way. Perhaps she could figure the rest out when she got there.
"So, how much does the Express train to Timber cost off-peak? Could I take that and transfer to Balamb for two thousand?"
"Express trains operate in peak hours only."
"Oh, so when do off-peak hours begin, exactly?"
"All Weekends, three to five PM Fridays, before eight AM weekdays, after five PM weekdays, and Midday to three PM weekdays."
"Uhh…" Rinoa uttered, attempting to digest the stew of information offered before her. "So I have to wait until twelve? Okay. I'll be back."
"Can't wait," the ticket woman responded without enthusiasm as the girl made her way out to the station. As her stomach growled, Rinoa lamented the fact that she couldn't afford to feed it.
Where could she go? What could she do for the long, arduous hours that were sure to follow? With a sigh, Rinoa bathed in the melancholy that was falling down upon her, as though from her own personal raincloud.
She made her way back to the platform that had moments ago seemed like her way out of the city.
Leaning with her back against a pillar, Rinoa removed her backpack, freeing her shoulders of their burden. Looking around, she saw the masses of people as they waddled about like the penguins of Winter Island. Men, women; clean cut, shaven, and dressed in grey suits; others in casual formalwear. People on their way to work.
It was strange. Rinoa had always thought the commute to work normally happened before now.
Averting her gaze, her eyes came to linger upon a most heinous individual. Long brown hair obscured his face. Dressed in black denim pants and an obscure t-shirt, overlaid with a black leather jacket that he kept open.
His expression appeared to be one of pure bitterness. His blue eyes shifted to the girl as he raised the cigarette held between his forefinger and thumb to his lips.
Rinoa quickly looked away. Whoever he was, Rinoa didn't want to become entangled with someone like that. He was clearly trouble. She didn't like the way his eyes felt on her skin.
Rinoa could sense him staring at her. It made her uncomfortable, to say the least.
That was when she heard the voices of several men heading her way. Feeling nervous, feeling herself visibly shrinking, she waited for them to pass in front of her, hoping that they would. Hoping that they wouldn't notice her, hoping that she could simply fade away into the stone against which her body rested.
They didn't. And she didn't. The men came to a stop before her. Ignoring them, she stared through the men. She pretended not to hear the obnoxious remarks they were making, clearly at her expense.
What was their problem? Had they never seen a teenage girl alone at a train station before?
"Yeah, I thought it was you," one of the men spoke, standing directly in front of the girl. "You're General Caraway's daughter, right?" Rinoa froze. Her eyes shifted to meet his. This man, he was wearing the uniform of a Galbadian soldier.
"A-are you talking to me?" She asked, attempting to play herself down. Perhaps these men would move on. If she could only convince these men that they were mistaken. She didn't need Caraway finding out about this. Not yet, anyway. Not until she was out of the city at least. Rinoa needed some kind of head start.
"You're the only one here. Who else could be the daughter of General Caraway?"
"I'm sorry, you're mistaken."
"Am I now?"
"Yes. You seem to think that I'm some General's daughter. I'm not."
"Oh? Well I say you are."
"You've confused me with somebody else."
"I guess she's not too bright after all," a second soldier assumed. "Thinking she can lie to us. Even the General's description didn't do her justice."
"Look, I'm not who you think I am. Okay? Can you move along now?"
"If you say so… but just what are you doing here? Caraway or not, shouldn't you be in school? I mean, look at you. There's no way you're eighteen.
"What does that matter?"
"Well, a girl like you, here, all alone. Why wouldn't you be in school?"
"Suppose I dropped out."
"Then you'll need a job, something to do. Maybe we can help."
"I'm kind of busy."
"Oh? Is this what the cool kids do? Hang out by yourself at the train station?
"Maybe she's waiting for a train," a voice suggested from the distance.
"Why don't you just come with us? You don't want to get in trouble for loitering, do you?"
"Just pitiful," the voice said, again announcing its presence." Looking over, Rinoa noticed that sinister looking man staring at her. He took a drag from his cigarette, holding and releasing the smoke from his mouth, lips creating a narrow tunnel from which the smoke could escape, as though vented through a chimney. "Is this what the soldiers of Galbadia do with their time off? Do they harass kids at the train station? Do they spend their time hitting on little girls? Is this what's become of the greatest Military force in the world? Pathetic."
"Hey!" one of the soldiers bellowed to the strange man. "Keep out of this, alright?"
"Let me give you a hint. She ain't interested. Okay? Just forget it and move on. Get out of here. Fuck off. Do yourselves a favour."
"That's it, this guy's dead!" one of the soldiers exclaimed.
"Oh, so this is how our glorious soldiers respond to a little heckling? Can't say I'm surprised. This nation's always been easy to provoke." The man extinguished his cigarette, suffocating the flame with his thumb and flicking it off to the side. "Alright then." The man smirked. "Anyone who wants a fight, come and get it."
"I think that was a challenge," one of the hot headed soldiers stated, charging right toward the long haired man.
Stepping forward, the long haired man smirked. The movements of his hand were unintelligible. Rinoa couldn't follow it. His arms moved too fast.
Within a split second, the soldier's inertia had been shifted. He now followed a new path of flight, one on which this long haired man had sent him. He fell to the ground.
"Anyone else?" the long haired man openly challenged."
"You little…" the downed soldier growled, rising to his feet and charging at his aggressor. With a sigh, the long haired man responded to the violent intent in kind.
"You don't learn, do you?"
"Shut up," the soldier barked his retort, readying his fist for contact with the enemy.
"Don't you get it? Blind charges won't work against me." To demonstrate this, the delinquent-chic man launched his opponent into the air with a well-timed kick, causing him to soar over the standing platform intended for waiting commuters, and fall on the railway line, landing gracelessly, laying in a heap, positioned in a dangerous location. "Do you understand now? You don't stand a fucking chance, newbie. Now stay down there, but not too long," he added with amusement. "The train's coming." He turned his attention to the other soldiers. One in particular. Seemingly the leader.
The head soldier grit his teeth. "My men," he stated, malice-filled eyes narrowing hatefully at the long haired man. "How dare you? How dare you attack my men! Who the hell do you think you are?"
"A disgruntled citizen, fuckface. What's your excuse?"
"Damn you… Men, attack!" the leader ordered his soldiers. Instantly, the men began to advance, only to be taken down one by one. "Surround him, you fools!" the leader ordered. "Get around him, attack from all sides. Don't give this bastard the chance to defend himself."
"Six on one?" the man sneered. "Not very chivalrous, are you?"
"All's fair in war, asshole," the leader retorted.
"I think there was supposed to be a 'love' in there somewhere. Still, it's more like four on one really, since you're a man short." He was of course referring to the man still lying on the railway line.
"That's still five."
"Four," the long haired man corrected. I guess it's too much to expect an officer to actually fight alongside his troops. Oops, now it's only three," he taunted as he knocked down another soldier."
- Two!
- One!
"That does it," the officer exclaimed, running to join his men. "I'll finish this now!"
Rinoa stared wide-eyed at the spectacle. She could scarcely believe what she was witnessing.
This fight, between a single civilian and the many soldiers who outnumbered him; and the civilian was winning. Why wasn't anybody else watching this? Why weren't they trying to break it up? Didn't they care?
Thankfully, the soldiers seemed to be unarmed. They must have been off duty. That, at least, was a plus. This man seemed to have the advantage in unarmed combat, but if the soldiers had guns… Not even this guy would be able to shrug off a gunshot wound to the chest.
The officer glared at the loathsome man before him through tiny, slit-like eyes. This wretched bastard: He had singlehandedly taken out the entire platoon. He couldn't allow satirical men like this to exist. They were too much of a liability, both to government, and to the Military who kept order. It was for the best that this wretch disappear. His anti-government ideals were, after all, unacceptable.
His criticisms would not go unpunished.
The officer reached into one of the many pockets adorning his uniform and pulled a Machine pistol free from its holster. Aiming it at the long haired man, he let loose a sneer. "Not so loud now, are you? Where're your comments now, smart man?"
Without a word, the long haired man took off in a sprint, circling around the officer in a clockwise direction, leading his attention away from the teenager who happened to be watching them. She was just standing there, as though transfixed. Watching them. Why hadn't she run away? With the soldiers distracted, she'd had the perfect chance, why not take it? She had bravery, she wasn't a coward, but she clearly wasn't a genius either. To stand in danger's path, it took a little bravery, but it didn't require much intelligence.
A scream was heard in the distance, and the mindless crowd stampeded as the officer opened fire. All save for one.
"The army man and his gun," the man remarked, outrunning the gunfire, remaining constantly ahead of the officer's aim. "How quaint, but why should I expect any different?" Circling the officer in a descending orbit, he approached with a high kick and disarmed him, the weapon flying through the air like a discarded balloon. "Good rate of fire, but what use is a gun if you can't even hit me?" the man criticized.
A low roundhouse kick at the officer's ankles tripped him, and a powerful right jab to the crown of his head dispatched him, rendering him unconscious.
Incapacitated, he drifted helplessly to the ground.
Without a word, the long haired man turned to face the teenage girl and silently approached.
She stared at him through wide eyes. Through her clothing, he could see her every muscle tense. Was she afraid? If so, perhaps she should have escaped while she had the chance. She should have gotten away.
Why didn't she?
He stopped before her, looked her in the eye.
"Uh… thanks," the girl somewhat awkwardly replied. The man stared at her solemnly.
"Do you fear me?" he asked in a low tone.
"Um, excuse me?"
"You heard me, answer the question. Do you?" When Rinoa finally spoke, she spoke fast, her voice tinged with nervousness.
"At first, I think I kinda did. You… I don't know if you're intimidating, but there was something about you. You give off some kind of vibe. It's disturbing. When I first saw you, I didn't like you. I didn't want to be seen with you. I didn't want to be seen by you. I-I didn't want you to look at me. You unsettled me. Before I saw what you did just now, I don't think I'd have been able to trust you." By the time her rambling had come to an end, the man appeared amused, but his smile soon dropped.
"You'd be right not to."
"I… I don't understand. Who are you?"
"Who I am doesn't matter."
"Then what are you?"
"All that matters is whether or not you can trust me."
"Can I?"
"You shouldn't… but do you? That's the true question."
Rinoa thought about this. He did still appear ominous, and her mind was screaming at her to run, that this man was dangerous. But he'd saved her, hadn't he? He'd protected her from those soldiers. Perhaps that wasn't a good thing. Things would certainly be more difficult for her when Caraway found out… but if those soldiers had gotten hold of her… it would have been no different. Nothing had changed, except now she had a chance. She had to take it. She had to escape. And she couldn't look back. It was all thanks to this strange, long haired man.
"I trust you."
"You're a fool, but I'll humour you."
"I'm a fool?"
"You don't know me… who knows what I could do to you?"
"I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't been here. You saved me from that, so I have to trust you. The way I see it, I at least owe you that much."
"Fair enough," the man replied. As he spoke, a train rolled past, coming to a halt. "You heading to Timber?" Rinoa's face went blank.
"I… I don't really know where I'm going."
"But you want to go somewhere? You don't have a plan?"
"I do, but… I can't make it. I don't have enough money, so…"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Balamb."
"Don't worry about it."
"Don't worry? How can I –"
"I'll take you."
"No, I can't ask you to do that."
"I'm heading to Timber anyway. Come along with me and I'll pay for your ticket. It's no big deal, really."
"I don't know…"
"How else are you planning to get there?" Rinoa was stumped there. The long haired man had a legitimate point. But why was he offering?
"I can't pay you back."
"Call it a favour." Rinoa's expression soured.
"That's what I'm afraid of," She mumbled.
"I thought you trusted me. Why not let me do this for you?"
"I don't want to owe anyone any favours. Even if I said I'd trust you…" Rinoa didn't feel comfortable taking anything from a complete stranger, especially not from this suspicious someone.
"Call it an act of kindness then."
"Kindness?" Rinoa raised an eyebrow at the thought.
"I suspect you'd turn up your nose at the mention of charity? I know what you're thinking."
"Doubt it."
"You're wondering why I'm so eager to help some schoolgirl."
"Well… it did cross my mind."
"Don't worry. You said you trust me, right? You'll just have to trust that I don't want anything from you. I don't expect anything in return. The truth is, I was once in a similar situation. I know what it's like when dreams outweigh one's budget. You dream of escape. I dreamed of waking the minds of the ignorant with art. Where I failed, you can succeed."
"Hold on," Rinoa spoke, her mind clouded in thought, "how do you know what I want?"
"Who wouldn't want to escape this cesspit of a city? Why else would you have come to the train station?"
"Okay, good point… So, I take it someone helped you out when you were desperate? Someone gave you charity and now you're returning the favour, right? You're 'paying it forward.'"
"No," the man responded. "Actually, they all turned up their noses like the pretentious bigots they were and told me to get a fuckin' job and a haircut."
"Well, why didn't you?" It was a valid point after all, wasn't it?
"Oh sure. Become uniform, Look and act just like all the other douchebags out there? Give up all forms of individuality, Buy a white collar suit, work in some office for some pretentious, slick-haired college bastard; maybe express my escapism and newfound self-loathing through binge drinking and bodily mutilation? No thanks. Besides, there were no jobs back then. Even if I'd done everything possible to make myself look like all the other metropolitan metrosexuals, I'd never have gotten anything. Neither did they, come to think of it. No openings means no openings, no matter how much of a pusillanimous, sycophantic, corporate douchebag someone might be. Try to keep in mind that this was back in the depression after the War. You probably don't remember that far back, even if you were alive."
"Huh…" Rinoa made a mental note to never bring this subject up again. Not in this person's company, at least.
"But you remind me of someone I used to know. It may sound stupid, but I want to help you. So, do you agree?" Rinoa looked away, concern etched into her eyes. What should she have done?
This might be her only chance to get away from the capital, to get away from his house. It wasn't as though the girl had a choice… was it?
But deep down, she still didn't completely trust this person. He was acting suspicious. Who would simply offer to pay for a complete stranger's train ticket? People didn't do that. Not unless they wanted something in return, and if this person did want something, there would be no guesses as to what it could be.
People didn't give away money. Not sane people, anyway. Actually, this man did look kind of like an escaped mental patient. Okay, so he was obviously crazy, but was he dangerous? Could he hurt her?
"You know, this is a limited time offer. When this train leaves, I go with it. If you want a free ride, you'd better be on it with me."
Desperate, Rinoa shook the reservations from her head and agreed. "Okay!" she finally voiced, her outburst coming out much louder than intended. Everyone was probably staring at her now, but she couldn't afford to care about something like that. Not now. "I'll go with you," she spoke, more quietly this time. I must be nuts, she inwardly chastised.
Barely reacting at all to the revelation, the long haired man simply nodded, turned his back on the girl, and walked onto the train.
Waiting for a moment, Rinoa decided it best to follow, lest she be left behind, stranded.
Following him to a seat in the rear end of the train car, Rinoa stepped around him and sat down, the man having taken the aisle seat for himself, leaving her with the window.
Rinoa placed her backpack on the ground, holding it between her feet. It was difficult to believe this was actually happening. She was actually doing it. She was finally getting out of this place. She was finally getting away from her life.
Free of everything. Free of her name. Free of school. Free of her father. Free of his control. She couldn't have summed it up any better than the verbal rendition served to her ears.
"It's not often one escapes hell." Rinoa turned to the man. "Where are you going?"
"Balamb."
"I mean where in Balamb. Do you know anyone there? Someone to take you in… or hide you, as the case may be?"
"How…" how did this man know so much about her?
"It's obvious. So?"
"I have… friends there." The man nodded.
"I suppose that plan is sound enough… for the moment at least. You should work out a long term solution." Rinoa was beginning to feel just a little annoyed with this man's never ending suggestions.
"With all due respect, mister man, you don't know anything about me… right? Right?" his silence was not at all comforting. Just what had Rinoa gotten herself into? An uncomfortably familiar sensation slithered down her spinal cord, somehow coming to reside in her stomach. It was a sickly feeling, leaving her feeling nauseous and uncomfortable.
Rinoa suddenly felt lightheaded, and pressed her face to the glass of the window. The cooling sensation on her face made her feel a little better, but not much. Her ailment was not a physical one.
"I think I'm going to be sick," she uttered to herself, her voice barely speaking the words, coming out as little more than a scratchy whisper."
"Relax a little, would you?" the man insisted. It's not like I've been stalking you or anything. I don't even know your name."
That in itself was a tremendous relief to the raven haired girl. A very large part of her had been afraid that this man was not to be trusted after all. Her suspicions had arisen once more. He could have been anyone, and she'd willingly come with him.
But what other choice did she have? Surely this stranger was the lesser of two evils when compared to her father's wrath. She slowly turned back toward the man. His attention was elsewhere.
Rinoa released a sigh of relief. Perhaps it was foolish to be so paranoid, but she couldn't help it. It was then that she realised they had not exchanged pleasantries. This man was paying for her ticket after all, wasn't he? He deserved to know whom he was helping out. It was the least she could do.
"My name's Rinoa, by the way. Rinoa Ca– Heartily!" she abruptly cut herself off, suddenly seeing the foolhardiness in giving her last name. Her father was a well-known General, after all.
The man slowly nodded, seeming not to have noticed.
"What about you?" she asked. The long haired man turned to face her. Their eyes connected, solemnly, gravely, intensely. And after a moment, a moment that had seemed like much longer to Rinoa, he finally spoke.
"You can call me Kane."
A/N: So, there you go. The second chapter. Finally. I actually stopped writing this twice. Super sorry about that. As I said, I split this one in half, that'll be the reason if this chapter seems uneventful. And yes, Kane is in this story too. While not as central as he is in my other stories, (Thy Forsaken Soul, Angel of Decadence, etc.) he serves a purpose later on, but for now he can simply be the suspicious guy who leans ominously against walls smoking cigarettes, possibly leering at passers-by. I'll leave you with that thought. Enjoy.
~Michael