Red Equals Passionate
[A glimpse becomes a look; they could not be more different but they still balance each other out. GenesisxRosso; drabble series]
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the FFVII franchise.
A/N: Rewrote Inheritance. The incident is a bit different, and there is also some background information details that hint at the wing's origin as well as a completely unprecedented result. I changed the use of tenses from past to present to make it more intense. I might edit this again since I'm not sure that this will be the final result. I tried to keep as faithfully as possible to the "Rosso" style of writing--short sentences or phrases with long ones in between.
Inheritance
It was getting worse.
It had started, she reckoned, about a month after Genesis first arrived in Deepground, she became a Tsviet and received her share of the ex-SOLDIER's cells. Argento and the people working under her direction did not expect immediate results.
Around two weeks after, nearing the conclusion of the month, the pains began.
Her left shoulder would throb with a dull pain and sometimes it felt like the Crimson Tsviet had been leaning on it in an uncomfortable position. At first it rarely bothered her but as time passed Rosso began feeling it more and more frequently. The pain would last longer each time, minutes evolving into hours.
The original donor of the cells had somehow caught on to what was troubling Rosso but Genesis did not ask her any questions, something the new Tsviet was grateful for. She could not explain what was causing this agony.
It was only suspicion but Rosso thought—no, believed—that he was somehow responsible. Perhaps at one point he had a similar experience?
Otherwise he would not be wearing that expression that is a mixture between sympathy and painful nostalgia.
There were no clear answers.
The pain was nearly constant now, an itch that would not go away. At times, it felt like something was growing inside her skin, trying desperately to get out. At this thought, Rosso felt fear creeping into her system. If that was the case, what was developing under her skin? What was it that caused this incredible suffering?
There were times Rosso considered suicide; it was that agonizing.
Eventually, it did.
It happened after a training session, not long after the Crimson Tsviet entered her room. Then, like some assailant hidden in the shadows, it flared.
Rosso collapsed to her knees as another episode—what she dubbed the moments when her shoulder hurt beyond reason—began. Somehow she was able to contain her screams, most likely due to her training in Deepground, and bore it in silence.
The crimson Tsviet didn't know when Genesis had come inside and was now holding onto both her hands which gripped his own as though she wanted to crush the bones to dust. Rosso could barely comprehend what he was saying but…it sounded like an apology.
"I'm sorry…that you had to go through this."
Meanwhile, her skin began to stretch. And stretch.
Eventually, it reaches its limit.
Rosso could not help but breathe in as she felt her skin giving way—no, giving birth—to whatever abomination that had been using her shoulder as some kind of womb.
Gross… Is the crimson Tsviet's last coherent thought as a large, dark and strangely soft object burst out of her right shoulder blade in a fountain of blood, finally freed of its warm, if slightly cramped, refuge/prison after so long.
Even as this happens, Genesis does not speak, lost in his thoughts. His conscience scream at him to try and do more to ease this girl's suffering, maybe even stop it from happening. But in the end, he knows that whatever he does to help her won't matter.
The crimson Tsviet would later admit that his presence had been a good thing.
If there was a time Rosso ever wanted to pass out, it is now. It is probably the only time where she would desire it so much that she would hurt from want of it.
But her training and her instincts will not allow that to happen.
After all, there are worse pains than this.
Eventually the pain begins to fade into nonexistence, as though it had never been there to begin with. Her shoulder…why does she feel uneven, as though there is an additional weight that was not there before? Whatever it is, Rosso has the feeling it would screw up her sense of balance.
After a few moments does the Tsviet dare to look back.
Red eyes fell on a large black anomaly with a strange asymmetrical shape. The thing is completely soaked in the blood it had soaked in only moments before. In her blood.
A black wing, newly born.
"Genesis...this isn't mine…" Rosso struggled to speak as she felt herself losing consciousness.
It was estimated that Weiss would make the most of the genetic legacy that Genesis Rhapsodos—or "G", as everyone calls him now—had given them. Given Deepground.
So what went wrong?
The world goes black.