A/N: I... have a feeling this will generate lots of reviews. XD Darkness knows "Light" did!
Introducing my third favorite thus far. I really love writing these ficlets. Know why? Because I can write to my... er... soul's content, without having to worry about plot or structure or ANYTHING. It's raw writing. It's pure... Oni-Gil. I get to write the way I want, without constraints. (Besides the prompts, but those, as you've noticed, are VERY loose.)
Speaking of prompts... I wrote this under one prompt, but it didn't fit very well. So I looked at my list and lo! a prompt which was just about perfect!!! Not even planned!!!
The rain was freezing. It might as well be snow, and cover this black city with a blanket of white, white like the Castle, like the Dusks, like the Superior's hair.
"Your mind's made up?"
The sky was bleeding darkness down on them. Water pooled on the ground. The puddles were alight with the reflections of neon lights, breaking into ripples and particles as boots splashed into them. Footsteps echoed forlornly between buildings for a few seconds after their source had stopped.
"Why did the Keyblade choose me? I have to know."
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Lightning must have struck somewhere, on one of the skyscrapers dominating the City's skyline. The rain hissed in the gutters, over the deserted sidewalks, down the drains and out of sight beneath the streets. There was no other sound, just an endless rush of water.
"You can't turn on the Organization!"
Steam rose in tiny wisps from the red-haired man's coat as he stepped out from under a protective awning. He looked eerily pale with the reflections playing across his face, set against the black of his coat and the shadows around him. His eyes flickered emerald in the rain-light. His hair stood out bright scarlet against the gloom.
"You get on their bad side and they'll destroy you!"
The smaller dark-coated figure was barely a hint of shape in the shadowy street. Only his hair, a startling sunshine gold, seemed to rebel against the oppressive darkness. His head turned just slightly, not enough to actually look at the other man, but enough to show he was speaking to him. His blue eyes glimmered with faded resentment and a dull sort of longing.
"No one would miss me."
Footsteps were again heard through the rain, and the splash of gold moved further and further off, bobbing through the darkness like a lantern. The red-haired man made a feeble gesture as though to reach out to stop him.
"That's not true!"
The light in the shadows finally faded into the rain and darkness. The man left behind stood staring after the boy. Steam no longer rose from his sodden coat, and even his extravagantly spiked hair was starting to droop. The chill was beginning to seep into him. His narrow shoulders fell, his spindly hands resting limply at his sides.
"…I would."
The make-up around his eyes had started to run—the rain, of course, the rain—and it stung. A gloved hand rose to rub at them. The rain continued to fall, a spark in the darkness, very small and very cold and very alone.
26. Axel/Freezing
A/N: So? So?