A Day in the Life

Collection of drabbles.

l l l Part 28 l l l

So this is what it's like.

Beads of sweat trailed down the side of Reno's face, dripping from his chin. Electricity cackled in the air before him, his Electro-Mag Rod tight in his fist, arm raised and muscles pulled taut. The hair on the back of his neck was responding severely to the adrenaline coursing through him—and he didn't want to admit that his hands were beginning to shake.

"I should kill you."

Yes, you should. His knees were threatening to buckle under the pressure. Reno wasn't a suicidal person, and he didn't wish for his own death, but the guilt he'd been ignoring for days he was not denying—it was eating him up inside.

"Then why haven't you?"

They both knew that if Sephiroth really wanted him dead, he'd be dead. There would be no fight. No begging for his life. No time to process. Just dead.

There were days when Reno really didn't want to put up with Sephiroth's shit. Of course, the redheaded Turk wasn't stupid enough to instigate anything between them, recognizing the futility of it. However, most days, the General knew well enough to stay out of his way—or actually, vice-versa.

Reno didn't need to explain himself. News spread like wildfire through Shinra when the dispatched soldiers returned. It was several hours later when both Reno and Rude returned, Cissnei in tow. Between the three of them, they carried the defeated SOLDIER to the lab.

Somehow he had made it back to his room, stripped himself of his suit jacket and shirt, and sprawled out on the couch, ignoring the blood soaking his pants now bleeding into the cushions below him.

He didn't remember removing his socks and shoes, but the feel of the carpet beneath his toes reminded him that he was in fact almost naked. And Sephiroth was standing in his living room.

Somehow or another, they had ended up crossing blades—or rather, Masamune versus EMR.

To say that he hadn't expected this was a lie. He knew the four SOLDIERs had been relatively close, and that the General's behavior was becoming more erratic as of late—but then again, he wasn't the only one with blood on his hands.

Cold, unforgiving green eyes bore into his own. As a sneer replaced the deadly expression on his face, Sephiroth pushed Reno roughly into the nearest wall, sending the EMR to the ground.

"Fuck!" Reno cursed as a blade slid effortlessly through his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. Masamune was still clutched in the General's left hand, and Reno didn't have to wonder where the other blade had come from. Sephiroth wouldn't waste the effort of using his prized blade against Reno.

Grunting, Reno put up his right hand to keep the other man away, but Sephiroth was on him before he could protest. The burning sensation in his shoulder made him want to close his eyes, but he didn't dare. The only sound in the room was Reno's harsh breathing and the cackling of the rod lain forgotten on the floor—and what was that smell?

"I didn't kill him," Reno whispered raggedly, his body beginning to sag against the wall. He dropped his eyes, the guilt suffocating him more than the closeness of their bodies. And as he said the words, he didn't feel any truth in them. It wasn't a lie—they both knew it—but it also wasn't what mattered.

Sephiroth twisted the blade ruthlessly before leaning to whisper dangerously into the redhead's ear, the warm breath causing Reno to shudder.

"You might as well have."

Reno fearfully realized that if Sephiroth planned to kill him, he'd probably do it slowly and torturously—ringing every drop of blood from the redhead's body until nothing was left of him. He'd seen the evidence of such practices many times before and was well aware of Sephiroth's capabilities. But at the moment, he was clueless of the man's intentions.

"No." Reno dragged the word out with a breathless raise of his head. "You did,"—he certainly wished for his own death now.

Silver hair brushed across his face but he ignored it. When Sephiroth pulled back enough to look at him, Reno let him.

They stared silently across the small space between them, breath mingling awkwardly. Though remorse clawed mercilessly behind Reno's eyes, the blame was not fully his. But the silver-haired general betrayed none of his own thoughts—if he had any at all. Reno hardly expected the stoic man to reveal himself.

The throbbing in his shoulder intensified as the blade was pulled out, causing Reno to drop forward bonelessly, his body fatigued from the effort of trying to keep upright. Before he could hit the floor, Sephiroth grabbed his shoulders, wrenching a cry from the startled redhead as merciless fingers dug into the seeping wound. And he couldn't do anything about it.

The sound of his EMR hitting the opposite wall caused him to look up, but Sephiroth had already let the Turk slide to the floor. His head hit the carpet.

As Sephiroth stared down at him, Reno didn't move.

It wasn't until the General moved out of his line of sight and he heard the front door open that he let himself breathe. As it slammed behind the man, Reno's eyes slid shut and he gave in to the darkness crawling under his skin.

l l l

to be continued.