Chapter 14 already? It can't be! :o
I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.
Friendly reminder that I'm posting chapters twice a month until the new (and hopefully better) year. After that, things are liable to slow down a smidge, but I won't leave you hanging with anything too dramatic, promise!
JustAFemaleGeek, thanks so much for your enthusiastic review! Had to have some drama in Midgar, obvs :D Also, big thanks to Clement Rage for dropping a wee review on the prequel as well! Excited to see what you think when you get all caught up :)
I genuinely hope someone picked up the Advent Children reference I subtly slid into the last chapter, I couldn't contain myself when I thought of it. And I hope teen Wedge was as adorable as I imagine him to be! And I hope you enjoyed our hijinks in Midgar, because guys, it was brief. Surprised?
6th Nov '20: When I posted this chapter earlier this week, the site had some pretty major issues where new chapters/updates weren't displaying at all, with a broken link error message. Unclear for certain whether it's fixed, but certainly seems to be at the moment! Thought I'd make a wee edit so anyone who missed this chapter due to these issues can get caught up :) Enjoy!
Chapter 14 - Reunion
My time in Midgar had been a great many things. Disappointing, for one. The journey that had spanned multiple months, bestowing scars on both my body and my psyche, turned out to be a complete waste of time after all.
Maybe disappointing was a slightly weak word with that context, but I decided not to dwell on it, because my time there had also been very enjoyable. The people there were an entirely different breed to the small town folk I was more accustomed to. The scrappy survivors below the plate certainly had their charm, just as much as the overly-helpful and inquisitive people along the way who had helped me get this far.
Traumatising was another word, though it certainly could have been worse had my sidekick demonstrated appropriate caution, and not approached the edgy stranger waiting for a train that first day.
But it was also…
Okay, so I was really struggling to find another positive from the whole experience. I supposed I hadn't died. That was a positive.
But after two days of marching across the plains outside Midgar, having left a slightly choked-up Wedge without giving anything close to a satisfactory explanation, I really didn't feel that positive. I couldn't have stayed. Much as I had enjoyed Wedge's company (the only real positive from the whole experience I could take away) I would have been putting us both at risk if I had. Much as I hated the thought of causing tears, far worse could have happened. Wedge was safer without my company.
Not to mention, I was broke. I barely had a single gil to my name. Thankfully I'd paid Peeka's board in advance up until today, exactly. By the most outrageous stroke of luck, I'd had just enough to throw away while I wasted my time, so now I could retrieve her and run off and forget that whole painful chapter in my adventure.
I arrived at the outskirts of Kalm on the afternoon of the twenty-eighth, to the trill of a happy giant bird.
The heavy thumping of a chocobo's loping gait put a smile on my face, and I forgot about the tears I had left behind in Midgar for a moment, welcoming Peeka's eager nuzzle into my cheek. The strength behind it knocked me off-balance, and I eased a foot back for balance, stroking her neck.
To my surprise, three more chocobos encroached on our personal bubble and began their own assessment. Beaks were pressed into my hair, my clothes, rummaging and investigating. I gently swatted at one when it found what they were looking for, descending to the small pouch at my left hip exclusively for the tasty greens they craved.
It reared back and warked loudly, as if to exaggerate its injury for attention, and took off. The two others followed immediately. Peeka followed a second later.
Recognising that I was on my own once again made my heart lurch. The tearful face I had left behind in Midgar once again sprung into my mind's eye, twice as painful after the momentary joy of reunion.
The chocobos had took off in the direction I had been walking, more or less, so I followed their trail. The road into Kalm became more apparent as I walked, and within an hour I arrived at the stables. There was a flurry of activity and a cacophony of excited warking and kwehing; feeding time.
A stable hand caught sight of me, even rushed off his feet with bags of chocobo feed, and called for someone to fetch the proprietor. "So sorry to keep you waiting," the middle-aged (maybe) man apologised after jogging to meet me, and shook my hand.
"It's no trouble," I excused, smiling at the hubbub. "I probably should have rung ahead to let you know when I'd be arriving." Apologetically spoken, but I honestly felt no obligation to have given prior warning. Plus I didn't have a phone.
"Not at all," he waved off, doing a brushing-off gesture with his hand as if to reinforce how unnecessary my suggestion was. "Are you here to pick up a chocobo from our care, or are you interested in buying your own?"
He didn't remember me…? Maybe they got a lot of business. "Pick up. I checked my chocobo in here just over two weeks ago, Peeka. My name's Mell, and I paid up front."
Clapping his hands together, the man smiled widely. "Well that's wonderful. I'll just have to check in the registry, if you'll give me a moment," he requested, and at my nod he marched back to the house he'd come from.
The stable hand who had run to fetch him looked like I'd just given him a thousand gil. "Peeka's your girl? Aw man, she'll be missed! Life and soul of the party," he divulged, dark eyes fondly wandering down the stalls to where Peeka must've called home for the last fortnight.
"She's a character, that's for sure," I agreed, laughing hesitantly. I really didn't know enough about chocobos to make that judgment.
"Y'know something?" he asked, and carried on before I could question, "She'd make a great racing bird in the Gold Saucer. Loves to sprint and has that steely focus, doesn't care about what the others are doing."
"Really?" I murmured, raising an eyebrow. I hadn't even heard of chocobo racing before. But in Gold Saucer, the big amusement park? That'd, uh… well…
I didn't want to exploit Peeka and force her into races just for my own financial benefit, no matter how significant. She did love running though… and it'd mean I could give some share of the profits to Digo and Meryl, the chocobo wranglers who actually tamed her for me.
"How does that work?" I asked hesitantly, feeling a little slimy.
"You don't need to feel guilty or anything," the stable hand assured me, reminding me that I needed to work on my poker face. "Pretty sure Peeka will let you know if she doesn't want to race! But you should bring her to the chocobo stables just southeast of here, you're bound to have passed them on your way here. They'll have a better way of assessing a chocobo's potential, and if it's good then they can do the whole training, transport and admin of entering the races for a cut, if you don't want to do all that yourself."
I nodded thoughtfully as the proprietor returned, "I'll be passing there, will definitely stop in for a chat with them. Thanks for the suggestion!"
He nodded and returned to his work while the older man grandly thrust his open ledger in front of me, pen in the spine. "Everything's in order, miss! We'll just need your signature here next to where I've filled in your details and we'll get Peeka tacked up and ready to go for you."
Scanning the outbound record, I sloppily signed the last four letters of my full name. Once fully tacked and ready for the road, Peeka insisted on bidding farewell by nuzzling all the other chocobos over their stable doors (except two, which she shrieked at for some reason) before butting her head into me expectantly. In good humour, I warned her, "Don't get used to this," while giving her a treat. She gobbled it up without preamble. She hadn't changed one bit.
"Look after yourselves!" was the farewell we received, to which I waved as we took off, heading for the horizon.
The roads were pretty quiet, a few cars and the usual distant sound of a train every once in a while. If Peeka noticed I didn't cling to her so urgently when I heard that particular mechanical beast, she didn't let on in any way. Perhaps she was too eager to feel the wind in her feathers once again, because she'd been sprinting flat out so much that I had to rein her in for extended periods just so she could cool off.
It was late afternoon when I saw something I hadn't seen in a while. Fellow travellers, heading my way. One was blonde and wore a black suit, while the other—
Oh, no. A SOLDIER?
What? Out here in the middle of nowhere? Walking along the side of the road? What?!
Before I could calculate what to do, both individuals' eyes snapped to my location, piercing. Reminiscent of those wolves that I encountered before Midgar. Predators.
Well… they were on foot, and looked weary. I was on the back of a chocobo. I would definitely outrun them, if it came to it. And then they'd summon a helicopter but it'd take a while to get here, right? It'd be fine.
"Hey!" a voice called out, lost in the rush of wind, as Peeka and I galloped by them on the other side of the road. That wasn't suspicious, right? Right?
"That wasn't suspicious," Will warned, as Ash fumbled with her PHS, mashing the screen while jogging back the way they had been walking, pursuing the cloud of dust kicked up by the chocobo. Of course, the Turk stuck to her side; right or wrong, they'd stay together.
"It was so too suspicious! Dyed hair? Sword on her hip?" the SOLDIER rhymed off, huffing in displeasure when she realised how easily her list was exhausted. "Worth investigating!"
"Are we even sure that was a girl?" the Turk slipped into the role of devil's advocate far too easily for Ash's liking.
"We can find out! And on a chocobo, like the report from the ones on the helicopter we were supposed to be on…" the SOLDIER tacked on to her earlier argument, with a cutting look to her colleague before returning her attention to the PHS.
"So not my fault," the blonde in the suit retorted, raising an eyebrow as Ash let out a breathless cheer, lifting the small communications device to her ear. Before too long, she groaned irritably and dropped it from her ear, swinging her arms to aid her jog instead. "No answer?" Will asked unhelpfully, only just hearing an automated message chiming from the device in her hand.
"No. Come on, Lazard, the one time you're away from your desk…" Ash griped. "Try calling your boss."
Still doubting, Will complied and fished around in his suit jacket for his own PHS. He only just had it in his hand and unlocked when his friend let out an exclamation, and he let out his own as she dashed across in front of him, towards the road.
"STOP, I'M WITH SOLDIER!" she hollered at the oncoming vehicle, stepping out into the middle of the lane. With a strangled gasp, Will sprinted for the woman, body-slamming her onto the other side of the road. The car ground to a stop, several feet away.
Both took gasping breaths, as they took stock of the situation. It had all happened too quickly.
The brunette gathered her wits quicker than Will did, and glared up at him hovering over her. "Will, what were you thinking?!" she hissed, eyes wide and angry and desperate, teeth gritted. She was SOLDIER, she'd have been fine, but Will was just a regular old human—
"Never do that again," the Turk warned with a voice that neither of them recognised, low and guttural and threatening. Another couple of moments to catch their breaths, and awareness struck them both in synchronicity the second time.
Leaping to their feet, they purposefully approached the vehicle, the driver standing close by with a concerned and wary expression. Ash rhymed off a quick, practiced speech about being with SOLDIER and needing to commandeer the vehicle. The driver didn't fuss, her eyes having fallen wide open with the recognition of the SOLDIER uniform, and she skittered over to the side of the road. Will hopped into the passenger seat, Ash behind the wheel. Eager to pursue, she swung the steering wheel around and changed the car into reverse.
"No, don't—!"
The driver's warning came too late, as the car's engine sputtered and died. The silence was deafening. The SOLDIER stared down at the steering wheel in her grasp, in utter disbelief.
"It's worth mentioning," Will piped up, PHS to his ear, "that person was heading away from Midgar, not toward it. That'd be weird for the target, right?"
Ash groaned, planting her forehead on the steering wheel.
She did not move, as her friend explained the situation to his boss on a call, and fell silent as he received instruction. The conversation concluded with a quiet acknowledgment on the blonde Turk's end, the disconnecting beep echoing in the silence of the vehicle. Will put his hand on the SOLDIER's back, prompting her to turn and meet his eye. "Negative on pursuit. We're heading back to Midgar."
The Turk withdrew his hand, straightening his tie before getting out of the car to speak with the owner. The SOLDIER propped her chin on the steering wheel and glared into the wing mirror after the disappearing yellow speck on the horizon. She took a deep, calming breath before following her colleague's lead.
Peeka ran late into the night. So late that she had slowed down to a jog that was really closer to a walk than a jog; just not comfortable with her usual loping sprint in the deep darkness. But she persisted, keenly aware of my state of alarm, though it was fading into worry for how hard I was pushing my steed so early into our travels.
It was also fading into drowsiness, because it had been a long day. In fact I couldn't recall seeing such darkness as I saw now, with or without mako eyes.
Barely spotting a patch of trees some distance away from the road, I gently urged Peeka in that direction. The helicopters hadn't flown over yet, but at least if they did we'd have some cover. Maybe we could catch a few winks and rest up for a couple hours.
I let gravity do most of the work in getting me off of the saddle and onto the ground. Jelly legs nearly let me fall farther, but I locked my knees and stayed upright, just long enough to undo the saddle on Peeka's back and let it fall. The rest of her kit stayed on; slight discomfort now was worth me being able to steer us out of trouble if we needed a hasty retreat. While abandoning the saddle would be unfortunate, and make for an uncomfortable ride, it'd be cruel to leave the heavy piece of equipment on her for longer than necessary.
I sat down with my back to a tree, removed my backpack and set my sword on my left side. Peeka settled down to my right and trilled softly, rubbing her head on my chest. A couple of greens and she was satisfied, and we both conked out, curled around and over each other.
The world around us was pitch black when I awoke with a jolt. As my eyes adjusted I scanned for threats, and once I figured out we weren't being wrangled by SOLDIERs or attacked by wild creatures, I let out a slow breath of relief. Peeka, her head dangling off my lap, appeared to be having a vivid dream and had kicked me in the side, with vigour.
Deciding it was cute, I smirked to myself and leaned my head back against the tree once more. It was still too dark and Peeka was sound out, she'd need what hours she could get. I drifted off once more.
Was the world rocking all of a sudden?
…WARK!
Panic!
With just enough presence of mind to grab my sword as I leapt to my feet, I spun a three-sixty to find the threat Peeka must have sensed. I barely registered that it was starting to turn into morning now, the sky a vivid mid-blue with orange peeking through the trees.
Squinting at the bird, as she moved to shadow me far too closely for me to be able to defend her at all, I asked, "What'd you see, Peeka?"
She trilled quietly, almost whining, and curled around to butt her forehead into my left shoulderblade. It almost seemed like she was hiding from me, and I raised my left hand to stroke her, unsure what had her so flustered.
My arm hovered at shoulder level. Once my shirt had stretched with the movement, I grimaced. "Oh." Slowly easing it back down to my side, I tilted my head to see the problem.
Another shirt ruined. Good grief.
"Friendly fire, huh?" I huffed a quiet breathy laugh. "Don't worry, Peeka. It's not that bad."
When she had kicked out in her sleep, her outrageously huge talon must've nicked my side. It stung now that I'd noticed it, or maybe it was just that I'd pulled the shirt out from it and upset the scabbing, so it was probably bleeding again.
It did look like a lot of dried blood on the shirt, but since the shirt had a rip and not a hole, I decided it was no big deal.
Extricating myself from the contrite chocobo (harder than it sounds) I retrieved my water bottle from my bag, along with the cleaned, ragged remains of my last shirt. The wound was a few inches wide and a scrape, not a puncture, so I made an effort to smile as widely as I could at Peeka, murmuring reassuring words to her as I washed and dabbed to clean up the area. All the dried blood had made it look a thousand times worse; it really wasn't bad.
Fortunately I had a few spare shirts that I had haggled for in Midgar; prices below the plate were cheap, and the compromise for that seemed to be purely fashion-based, because the quality of the material was actually reasonably good. I supposed the stock was 'out of season' clothes from above the plate that didn't sell.
I tore the one I had been wearing into makeshift bandages, a technique that was becoming troublingly familiar, and tied it over the wound and around my waist before throwing on one of my new shirts and doing a spin for Peeka.
"All better," I assured her, giving her a green and myself a swig of water before tying on her saddle once more and continuing our journey. I remained on foot and allowed her to march freely without holding the reins. She stuck to my side like glue.
As much as I felt like we should be rushing on, I also felt like if we were being chased we would have been found by now. Perhaps the two that had spotted me decided we were going too fast for them to pursue, since they were on foot. It was daytime now, and I really didn't think we had travelled as far as it had felt last night.
The only real identifier of distance I had on these vast plains was the memorial stone, which was close to a day away from Kalm by chocobo. I had caught sight of it only an hour before we had stopped for rest the night before. I remembered the odd feeling of comfort upon seeing a fresh, small bouquet of blue and white flowers propped against it. Not all of the names on that stone had been forgotten.
All I could do was hope that those two, the suit and the SOLDIER, had forgotten me and gone back to Midgar. Whether they did or they didn't, my strategy remained the same. Walk until I needed to run. There was no way my wound would allow me to ride on Peeka at anything more than a slow walk, and there was no point burdening her for that. Plus, staying off her would let her run and burn energy the way she needed to; she was clingy now but I was sure she'd dash off soon. Leaving me to think of next steps.
I recalled that it had taken me about four days to get to the memorial from the chocobo ranch on the way to Midgar. That was mostly on chocobo-back, but not at full speed or even close; that leg of the journey had been afflicted with many abrupt stops and breaks due to the trains close by. I'd walk slow today, maybe ride tomorrow at a slow jog, and hopefully make up enough time to make it there in the same length of time, maybe five days.
After that… I really needed to decide where I was actually going. I had some thinking to do.
…
"You're looking well."
His voice was breezy, an almost uncaring tone. Not one I was overly accustomed to hearing from my hot-headed tutor. "Eh?" I squinted at the SOLDIER in red, who arched fine eyebrows and cast bright eyes downward, to my midriff. "Oh." That bit of me that was a little more injured than the rest of me, of course.
"I suppose I needn't worry about Shinra," he declared, kneeling, "as you seem perfectly capable of finding ways to get injured without their intervention."
Frowning down at his auburn head as he peeled back the makeshift bandage to get a look, I was thrown for a loop. This was an odd greeting, as the first time I'd seen him since I should've seen him for real. "Maybe if you'd actually shown up like you were supposed to, you wouldn't need to be worrying about Shinra at all."
Without looking away from the injury, or even moving enough to let me get a peek, he retorted, "I'm quite certain we both know that isn't up to me."
"If you don't know by now that I'm an idiot, that's on you." I took his quiet huff to be amusement and decided I had won that interaction, until he prodded at the wounded area. "Ow! Can you not?"
"Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul," recited the poetry lover as he reapplied the tatters of an old shirt to the wound and stood up. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah yeah, my soul endures torment, yada yada." My tutor looked physically pained at that retort, so that was another win for me. "You don't get to talk Loveless anymore though, you abandoned it. Honestly, of all the times to not be a giant nerd," I grumbled.
"Excuse me?" he uttered, voice low and dangerous. Biting my lip, I said nothing. Folding his arms, the First Class: SOLDIER frowned at me, indicating the end of any light conversation. "So."
"So," I echoed, the atmosphere suddenly feeling quite heavy. My eyes fell to the side, transfixed by that particular corner of empty white.
Never one to beat about the bush, the redhead said simply, "You left Midgar."
"I did, yes. Since you didn't show."
"It is flattering to know that I was your sole reason for being there," he drawled. I put on my best scowl when he barely flashed his pearly whites at me in that smug, lopsided, adorable grin. "Of course I knew already, but you made it so glaringly obvious. How terribly devoted you are to your teacher."
"You don't make it easy," I grumbled. "And yes, I left, because my teacher decided not to show. And here I thought he was devoted, to his precious Loveless, but I suppose not." Ugh, could I sound any more jealous? Of a poem?
"Did it occur to you that your teacher was busy? Perhaps out on assignment?" he proposed.
"Well duh," I retorted, because he wouldn't be saying it if it hadn't. "It doesn't matter why he didn't show, but he didn't, and that was my one shot. I couldn't stay in Midgar any longer, for a number of reasons, and I had no other ideas for how to find him. At least none that didn't involve a suicide mission."
The SOLDIER nodded sagely, "Well I am personally glad you decided against that idea. So?"
His prompt had me quirking an eyebrow. "So?" I echoed once again.
"What will you do now? Have you another scheme or objective in that wily brain of yours?"
Pressing my lips together, I looked away sombrely. "Fresh out," I admitted. My hands found their way to my pockets, and I leaned into a nonchalant stance.
"I see," he murmured, sounding thoughtful.
I stayed quiet, expecting more of a response, but it seemed that's all he had for me. "Well? Has my teacher got any bright ideas, for once?"
Okay, my tone was a bit mean, but my nerves were a little frayed, so I felt it was forgivable. Not that I was apologising. I was really doing all the heavy-lifting here, as far as keeping myself alive was concerned.
I folded my arms and frowned at my teacher, as the unnerving quiet wore on. The SOLDIER cradled his chin in one gloved hand, eyes riveted somewhere over my shoulder. He stood almost perfectly still, but for the slow and subtle furrowing of his brow.
When his eyes met mine, my heart stuttered. And when he gave his suggestion, the same organ dropped with such speed that I jolted awake, startled by the abrupt change from vivid, unmarred white to shadowy darkness.
Playing idly with Peeka's feathers under my hand, I stared at the stars and waited for day to come. My teacher's advice echoing in my ears, "Perhaps it's time you try to find yourself."
…
Six days on from the day of the injury, on the third of August, we arrived at the chocobo ranch. I found myself keeping track of the date now. When I had heard the date in Midgar for the performance of Loveless, I had been mildly surprised. Not at the date, because I had estimated it to be July-ish, but at the fact I'd let myself get by this far without keeping track of it. It made me feel distinctly uncivilised. And while I was lacking a great many things, I could at least try to remain civil, and keep track of such a thing as the date.
So mid-afternoon on the third of August, a slightly rainy Saturday, Peeka eagerly trotted up to the ranch with an excitable skip in her step. No doubt she remembered her time here before, maybe looking forward to making friends, likely enthused to have a fresher source of her beloved greens. Whatever the exact reason, her excitement was infectious, and burdened me with a smile that crinkled the corners of my eyes until we met a woman sitting on a fence.
"Is that Peeka?" she called out, and I nearly fell out of the saddle. The woman laughed, her eyes dancing with mischief, as she jumped down from her perch to greet us.
Apparently the people at Kalm who had boarded Peeka during my useless jaunt to Midgar had phoned ahead. The ranch worker reminded me of the conversation I'd had with one of the staff in Kalm, the fellow advising me to let them test Peeka for potential as a race chocobo. It hadn't sat very well with me then, and I still wasn't enamoured with the idea now. Though I supposed I hadn't given it much thought, forgetting about it after the debacle on the road only hours after we'd left Kalm.
Apparently picking up on my trepidation, the woman wore an appeasing, gentle look as she assured me, "The tests are far less strenuous than what a travelling chocobo in this area faces every day, we just look for speed and focus. She won't come to any harm, and we certainly won't force either of you to do anything you don't want to do, no matter what the outcome is. It'll only be a couple hours, and after that you can leave if you like, or you'd be welcome to stay the night, free of charge."
At that point Peeka had been untacked and let into the field to frolic with the other chocobos, and seeing her so carefree was enough to convince me that a night here might be just what we needed. So I consented, and watched as a few of the workers conducted their tests. I even interjected when they asked to see how she rode with a rider and one of the workers had approached her with intent to hop on; intelligent chocobo eyes caught mine in such a way that I marched over, insisting to be the rider.
Finished their tests for the evening, I was told she would place in the top third with the chocobos they had racing, capable of the top fifth or higher with their training. I was given plenty of assurances, ranging from guarantees of a certain percentage of possible earnings, to providing the best veterinary care, as well as expressing that I would have the final say in any major decisions to her continued care.
I sat with Peeka in the 'guest stall' that night, explaining everything to her as I understood it and debating what was best for her. It was a one-sided debate so it ended pretty sharpish. But I wasn't tired enough to retire to the guest room I'd also been given (they really were laying it on thick, weren't they?) so I continued blathering to my quiet yellow steed as she dozed, curled around me as always. Her monstrously sized talons were on my left side, opposite to the wound that was taking its time in recovering; I had decided that if I was putting myself at risk to get gored a second time by the chocobo kicking in her sleep, I was aiming for symmetry. Oddly enough, that particular incident didn't once come up in my contemplations of whether Peeka should stay here to become a racer or continue to journey with me.
Ultimately, Peeka would have a more fulfilled and safe life here than on the road with me. It was also vaguely helpful to my decision that I had been spotted with her, so transitioning to a lone traveller might give any pursuers the slip. Also, who knows how much longer I'd be travelling? Maybe not for much longer.
Really, I stayed with her all night because I knew what was the right choice, and I wanted to spend what little time we had left together. Even if it meant I got an hour and a half of dozing, at best, and an aching back.
I let the trainers know of my decision over breakfast, to their delight. They insisted that I go with them for a ride around the ranch grounds, claiming it would help Peeka to understand that this would be her home, and to put my mind at ease that they would provide the best care for her. Despite the throbbing in my chest and the paining in my back, I agreed. The grassy plains and sloping hills were idyllic, a stark contrast to the rocky, barren earth closer to the mako city. Eyes dried out from a long, persistent jog (Peeka refused to run for more than ten seconds at a time, mindful of my healing cut), I had to ignore the scenery and squint my eyes for the last mile or so of our adventure.
Back in her stall, I took my time relieving Peeka of her riding equipment. Whether from my struggling for words, sudden deep breaths or one of the many other glaring indicators of my sorrow, Peeka seemed to understand. Her eyes fixated on me, bright with quiet knowledge, she muscled into my personal space and curled herself around me, in a familiar embrace. Hiccupping sobs mostly drowned out her soft trilling. Damp feathers stuck to my cheeks.
Saying goodbye to Peeka was easily the most difficult thing I had ever done. Granted, there was a portion of my life that was outside of my recollection, but I could say with all the certainty an amnesiac could have, that I would remember this pain, and would have remembered feeling it before. Leaving Midgar was easy. Leaving Wedge was hard. Leaving Peeka…
She would be fine, though. And so would I.
I left the chocobo ranch with my head held high, retracing my and my companion's steps from perhaps a month before. Had it really only been a month?
Six months ago, I woke up in a small town in the middle of the wilderness. Delirious and vulnerable, I threw myself on the mercy of the village of Nibelheim, and since then I had crossed an ocean, all but covered the circumference of this continent, and I had failed my mission.
I owed a debt, and maybe it was time I returned to pay that back. Although, was that where I would find myself?
Somewhere on my journey I had felt a sense of longing familiarity, for a place that I had called home. Before I ever travelled to Midgar and joined Shinra as a Cadet with fanciful notions of becoming a heroic SOLDIER, I had lived in a large town, half consumed by the outskirts of a jungle and half exposed to a stunning shoreline. Costa del Sol had reminded me of my home of Mideel, and had made me feel wistful.
Lana would be smug, and would undoubtedly work me to the bone to repay my debt back in Nibelheim. I saw no harm in putting it off for just a little longer. After all, who knows what could be in Mideel? Or who?
Finally back in Midgar after weeks of chasing a ghost - one that had rode right by them - Ash decided it was the right time for a night out on the town.
And no, it wasn't because she'd spent those few weeks clinging to her unshakeably aloof persona, for the sake of her dignity. That wasn't even a little bit frustrating. Not even with that porcupine-haired idiot sending the most inappropriate suggestions to her PHS mailbox at the most inconvenient times. Ash supposed if he'd put half as much effort into his training as he did annoying her about her personal life, the man-child would be SOLDIER: First Class by now.
Loveless Avenue wouldn't cut it for this night out. Nope, she'd be slumming it tonight.
The brunette changed into her dressiest outfit (a black sweater beneath a check pinafore dress; she'd be embarrassed by her lack of 'dressy outfits' if she actually gave a toss how she looked) and made her way to the train station, boarding one headed below the plate.
A train journey and a brisk walk later, Ash arrived at Sector Six; Wall Market. SOLDIER eyes scanned her surroundings, flashing lights and boisterous drunks prompting a scowl. Sure, she'd wanted to let loose a little, but really, this was the idea she'd come up with? Ciara, her fellow female SOLDIER had dragged her down here once, and it had been bearable. This was definitely not her scene.
Ash glared fiercely at a group of men cat-calling her, clenching her fists as a man approached from another direction. Neon lights coloured a narrow, pale face while springy black curls almost absorbed the light—
Wait, she knew this guy. Once a fellow Cadet, hehad called it quits before they got initiated into SOLDIER. "Ah! Black, isn't it?" the Third Class greeted amicably.
The lanky boy her age nodded eagerly, dark curls bouncing. "Riley Black, and it's good to see you again! Though I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names…"
"It's Ash," she offered easily, presenting a hand to shake. The SOLDIER was surprised when he retreated from the greeting, hands held up and palms facing forward, as if she had just drawn a gun and pointed it at him.
Withdrawing her hand, she kept her elbows bent and hands aloft at waist level. If he'd seen the gun she had concealed beneath her skirt (she really hadn't thought it was so visible…) the least she could do was keep her hands at a distance from it to show she didn't intend to use it.
Though Riley didn't look scared. And scared had been his default look when she had known him, back as a Cadet. Why he had ever signed up, she'd never know.
"Sorry," he apologised for the second time in their brief conversation, "I'm probably covered in paint and charcoal, so best not to shake."
Understanding dawning, Ash let her hands drop to self-consciously pull at the end of her skirt, feeling that the gun was just as high on her leg and out of sight as she had thought it was. "Oh! Thanks for the warning," she laughed. "Guess that answers my next question too."
Ash could almost hear the whoosh as his dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and asked, "What?"
With a slight grimace, the SOLDIER hesitatingly explained, "I probably would've asked what you'd been up to." The silence that followed was fairly uncomfortable, as the artist made a noise of understanding and forced an appreciative chuckle. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, determined to ease the awkward interaction, she asked, "Do you have plans tonight? It'd be nice to catch up."
It's not as if she was really dressed for a night out like she'd intended, and apparently those sorts of things mattered. It was never much fun by herself anyway. "Actually, yeah. I mean— no, I don't have plans, so yeah, catching up would be nice."
Riley seemed happy, even though Ash internally fretted about how they'd keep the conversation going, given that they'd barely been acquaintances in the few months they'd spent as Cadets. More familiar with the area than her, the artist escorted her to a lively bar, a few couples dancing outside to music loud enough to be heard through the open windows. He all but shoved a worn sketchbook in her hands at the outside table they staked their claim to, insisting that she browse if she was interested or bored of people-watching, and took her order to the bar.
When the artist returned, he could only see the top of Ash's brunette head, her nose buried in the sketchbook. Flattered, he placed both drinks on their table before looking over her shoulder at what piece had caught her interest. With a light chuckle, Riley asked, "Do you want to keep that one?"
Ash's head snapped up to look at him, with an expression that was more than desperation. "Who is she?"
"I don't know," Riley lamented, grimacing. "That's why it's so rough, I only got to sketch her for a few minutes before she chased me off. Coloured and touched it up a little after, but I was afraid to do too much in case I didn't remember her features right. But something about her facial structure really caught my attention."
Ash didn't care about her facial structure; she was more interested in silvery, bedraggled hair that fell into vivid blue-green eyes.