This is coming along very smoothly, SilverKnight keep it up. I just can’t wait to see what actually hapens to them later on in the fic!!
–Ack. It’s been, what, four months? I haven’t even touched this story. >hurriedly tries to scribble more of the story< Erm…this may take a while. Heh. Here’s something to tide you over. 
>scribbles more<–
[i]Hero of the Day
“And it feels right this time, on this crash course we’re in the big time…
…Pay no mind to the distant thunder, beauty fills his head with wonder, boy.”
–Metallica, “No Leaf Clover”[/i]
Part VIII
Tifa’s mind swam back to consciousness slowly, the ocean current choppy and rough. The tumultuous storm that surrounded her sluggishly began to take form of a worn, faded blue shirt; the ominous rumbling of thunder in the distance quieting to the sound of a rhythmic heartbeat and ragged breathing. The first thing she truly was aware of was how warm she was, a strange warmth permeating through her cold, aching bones.
Without warning, her back burst into flames.
The second thing she was aware of was the pain.
She gasped, her well-toned muscles tensing from the unwanted sensation. She felt her carrier’s comforting grasp loosen suddenly from her movement, the warmth being replaced by a chilled wind as her body reeled downward, spiraling toward the ground…
Her chestnut eyes flew open, wide and bloodshot. Milliseconds passed, bright, fearsome light pounding into her unprotected eyes, and she quickly clenched them tightly shut, to no avail. Stray wisps of the morning sunlight seeped through her eyelids, causing her to burrow herself closer to the one carrying her.
The arms coiled firmly around her shoulders and legs tightened slightly, as if sensing her discomfort and trying to calm her. Belatedly, she noted that it was Cloud carrying her, and she twisted her head away from his curious blue eyes, letting the long strands of brown hair cover the blush that now burned her cheeks. She was being carried around like some helpless child, and to make matters worse, she just shifted closer and reinforced her weak visage. And to Cloud, of all people. How embarrassing.
The martial artist felt him lurch to a halt, shifting her tentatively in his arms. “Can you walk?” he asked simply, his soft tenor voice vibrating through his chest.
Cautiously, she flexed her muscles, wincing when a quick rush of pain shot down her back. Slowly, her stiff legs began to respond, and haltingly, she nodded. “Yeah, I can,” she answered, her eyes narrowed to slits as the harsh light showered her pallid face.
The blond’s face remained blank, staring at her impassively. “Good; you’re heavy.”
Her eyes shot up to his, shocked.
His thin lips stretched into a sly smirk, winking at her.
She punched him in the chest, her face contorting in exaggerated displeasure. Much to her dismay, his confident face crumpled in a split-second of pain, vanishing a second later. She bit her lip lightly, feeling like a complete heel as she purposefully lost herself in the warm oranges and yellows of the morning horizon. Despite her sudden aversion to his presence, he twisted her around in his grasp and suspended her in the air, patiently waiting for her to stand up.
Sheepishly, the brunette carefully placed her feet on the ground, balancing her weight to make sure that she wouldn’t fall flat on her face if she’d miscalculated her strength. Luckily, her legs held with only a minor groan of annoyance, and she hopped twice to make certain she was capable of movement.
Confidently, she turned, catching sight of Cloud watching her intently, his gaze centered upon her scratched and dirt-covered face. “It takes a lot to knock you down, doesn’t it,” he stated calmly, his eyes still resting on her frame.
She shrugged impishly, returning his gaze. “You know me; stubborn to the last, right?” He said nothing, only stared at her, a contemplative look on her face that somehow unnerved and endeared to her at the same time. His Mako-tinted eyes washed over her form, appreciating and simultaneously scrutinizing her. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat, her gaze darting towards the safety of the morning horizon again. “How long before we reach Kalm?”
“We’re already there.”
Surprised, she spun on the heel of her thick combat boots, coming face to face with none other than Rude. The tall man was impassive as always, his face completely devoid of emotion or conscience as he glared coldly at her. “What are you doing here?” the brunette breathed, slightly dizzy from her jarring movement.
Ignoring her question, the Turk continued unabated. “It’s just over the horizon. I’d gone and checked while you, Strife, and the pilot were resting.”
“I got a name, ya know,” Cid muttered indignantly, crossing his strangely bare arms.
Her brows knitting, she absent-mindedly glanced down at her form, realizing for the first time that his trademark blue coat was hanging limply off her shoulders. Smiling up at the grumpy pilot, she shrugged the coarse material off her bruised and tender skin, dangling it from her torn leather glove.
His hard look softened, a ghost of a smile curling on his dirt-smeared features. “Nah, you keep it,” he said softly, shaking his head.
She put her spare hand on her hip, cocking her head slightly at him. “Cid, it’s your coat. Besides, you have to be cold.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Teef, yer wearin’ a halter top and a goddamn miniskirt. And it’s April.” His smile widening slightly, he clapped a hand to her shoulder. “Trust me, I don’t need it that much.”
Ignoring the sudden jolt down her spine, her ruby lip twisted in thought for a moment, appraising his current condition. Though smeared with dirt and soot, the color had returned to his skin, his once pallid face radiating with its usual golden-tinged fire. The bounce was back in his step, and most importantly, his fierce temper was—while not quite up to usual Highwind standards—making a healthy comeback. As her eyes traveled down his form, she noted the gaping slash in his side had been covered with a strip of sterile white gauze, and wondered when they’d managed to find a med-kit anywhere.
“You’re starting to look better,” she commented, nodding her head in approval.
His smoky blue eyes danced with mischief. “Thanks, doc.”
The martial artist grinned broadly, bowing slightly. “My pleasure.” Seconds later, she shoved the jacket in his face, her expression expectant. “Now, will you take the coat? It’s heavy, and my arm’s getting tired.”
The smile fell away, his face serious. But, his eyes still held a good-natured glow about them, luckily enough for her. She’d seen Cid Highwind angry; she didn’t want it directed towards her. “I ain’t takin’ the goddamn coat, Teef. That’s final.”
Tifa sighed wearily, hating to resort to her final trick. With a silent groan of resignation, she stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated fashion, giving him her best impression of puppy-dog eyes she could manage.
He snarled deeply, clenching his blood-caked fist in frustration. She knew he could never resist her puppy-dog eyes routine. Damn that woman. “Fine,” he growled, swiping the fabric from her fingers in a brusque motion. “Just stop givin’ me that look—I hate that damn look.”
Instantly, she obeyed, her lips stretching in to a perky smile. “I know,” she chuckled, waggling her eyebrows as she turned away, standing resolutely next to Cloud. Seeing the pilot’s scowl, she quickly continued, “But if it makes you feel any better, I hate using it. I feel like such a tool.”
He harrumphed, slipping his arms through the torn cloth, adjusting the collar around his neck. “You feel like a tool?”
Cloud exhaled deeply, gaining the brunette’s attention. With mounting concern, her chestnut eyes danced over his slumped form, his expression looking haggard beyond his years. Not acknowledging her, he spared a moment to bring his thickly gloved fingers to the back of his neck, massaging the tense muscles gingerly. “We’d better start heading over there. We’ve all had plenty of rest.”
His gaze met hers, and she immediately looked away, feeling as if she’d done something wrong. Silently nodding her assent, she fell into stride on his left as he set the pace, reminiscing upon the recent events. What was Rude doing here? And why weren’t Reno and Elena there, either?
Her eyes flickering over her shoulder, the fighter swiftly took stock of the Turk’s appearance. He looked tired. No, he looked old. Her lips pursed in thought. She never knew exactly how old he was, but he was definitely older than she suspected. The curiosity in her begged to find out, but she quelled the rogue voice instantly. It was rude to ask.
Her finely sculpted eyebrows dove downward, her face twisting imperceptibly. Speaking of questions, what exactly happened to that giant dog—?
“Cloud!”
Her head snapped up sharply, her reverie cut off. Eyes wide as saucers, she gaped about the scenery, trying to place the location of the voice among the tall grass. Why had someone whispered Cloud’s name? Somewhere, she noted that Kalm was well within-site; the cobble-stoned entrance only a few hundred yards away.
Cid stopped by her side, frowning in confusion. “Teef? You okay?”
She waited for several seconds, and when no sounds other than that of the chirping grasshoppers, she convinced herself that she was only hearing things. Haltingly, she nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. I just thought I heard—“
“Psst! Cloud!” the voice whispered again.
Her body on full alert, her eyes shot about the sea of green, straining her ears for the source of the voice, unaware that everyone else was doing the same. Carefully, the brunette recounted the disembodied voice, ticking off its qualities. It sounded very feminine, having a high and squeaky quality to it that she doubted almost any man could ever imitate. Her large eyes narrowed. It almost sounded like—
“Hey, Spike!”
She distinctly heard the mercenary snort disdainfully at the nickname, turning his head slowly to the right, his lips pressed into a thin line. Following his gaze, she noted a small huddled form hardly an arm’s length away from her, barely noticeable among the endless meadow. “…Yuffie?” he asked, his voice betraying only the slightest hint of surprise.
Suddenly, a waif of a girl leapt from the grassland, her right arm snapping outward and seizing his hand, forcibly dragging him down into the tall green blades that surrounded them. “Get down!” she hissed quietly, a bare hand emerging from the prairie that had swallowed the rest of her form, motioning hurriedly for everyone to drop.
Tifa, in other circumstances, would have laughed hysterically at the ninja’s antics. For the time being, though, she settled for staring at her as if she’d gone insane, lithely dropping to a feline crouch among the field. Rude silently appeared next to her, having done the same.
Cid, however, had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
“I ain’t movin’,” he huffed defiantly, crossing his arms.
“You’re being watched, Cid,” Yuffie stated evenly, her voice surprisingly mature for her usually bouncy nature. “I don’t want anyone to see you guys here. It could ruin…well, a lot.”
The pilot blinked, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Like what?”
“Yuffie,” Cloud began, his voice strained vaguely with pain, “get off of me. You’re leaning all your weight on my back.”
“Tell Cid to get down, and I will,” she retorted shrewdly.
“That’s extortion,” he said, non-plussed.
“Hey, it’s your back, not mine,” she answered blandly.
The leader of AVALANCHE growled darkly. Yuffie was going to be in a lot of trouble once all of this was over. “Cid, will you just sit down for a minute?”
He paused, as if trying to word his response. Fearing the gruff blond wouldn’t agree, Tifa shifted her weight to face him, her eyes as hard as steel. “Cid,” she ordered, her jaw jutting out, “sit down.”
He glared back at her for an instant.
Then, silently, he begrudgingly dropped to the ground. “There,” he muttered miserably. “Happy now, brat?”
“Much,” she replied happily, chuckling slightly. Her quiet laughter was quickly replaced with a shocked yelp when Cloud unceremoniously tossed her off his throbbing back, her thin and pale limbs flailing a few inches above the curtain of grass that enshrouded them. Seconds later, she harrumphed dejectedly. “You could’ve at least warned me,” she pouted sadly.
“You could’ve gotten off me when I asked,” he barked in reply, swiftly crawling through the forest of grass and kneeling next to Tifa.
“Hey, you never asked, thank you,” Yuffie said, snorting quietly. “Geez, somebody’s not a morning person.”
Everyone frowned in unison. “Get on with it,” the chorus of voices snapped angrily.
A hand flew up over the line of emerald blades in resignation. “Alright, alright…sheesh,” she muttered in exasperation. “To get to the point, there’s some psycho in town who just put Barret on trial for blowing up a bunch of stuff in Midgar.”
Tifa’s eyes widened, her thin red lips parting in absolute shock. “No…” she whispered, aghast. Not after all they’d done, not after all the sacrifices…
“Are you serious?” Cloud questioned, his face twisted in disbelief and some other indiscernible emotion.
“There’s more,” the ninja replied enigmatically. “Apparently, the psycho’s got this sort of natural charisma thing, and he can basically charm everybody into following his lead—whether it’s right or not.” She paused, her strangely heavy voice echoing in the air solemnly. “…That stupid, loud-mouthed jerk…”
“Go on,” Tifa interjected, her dark eyes darting about the grass, which shielded her from view of the town.
“Anyway,” she backpedaled, her voice flat and devoid of its usual spark, “if Barret’s proven guilty—which, knowing Barret and that big mouth of his probably will be…” The teen trailed off, her voice dying into a tiny squeak of resignation.
The brunette’s stomach clenched suddenly, her face betraying her dread.
“What is it, kid?” Cid prodded gently, his voice gruff but curious.
The only sound that prevailed through the morning skies was that of a gentle breeze, faintly caressing the dew-covered tips of the meadow. A quick surge of panic flowed through her veins, making her want to leap over the protection of the grass and shake the information out of the injured girl. But, by a scant margin, she held the urge in.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the shinobi spoke. “If he’s proven guilty…” she repeated, sounding suddenly ill. “…He’ll be put to death.”
–There ya go!–
That was good! I hope you keep it going!
SilverKnight! hugs him too
Alright I now think we are closin in on some big amount of action, am I right?
Anyway keep it coming you are one hell of an awesome writer!!
–Well, this is it. After this post, I’ll be up to date, and it’ll fall on me to write and post more. That being said, don’t expect to see this thread again for a while. :D–
“This is stupid.”
Yuffie fought the frown that tugged at her thin lips, shooting a glare towards Cid over her sloped shoulder, now covered in a worn blue coat that had seen many better days. He was struggling with an oversized hooded jacket, grumbling under his breath heatedly, most likely cursing its very existence. “Hey, it’s the best I could swipe on short notice,” she rebuffed, the frown breaking the surface and curling her lips down in agitation. “Do you know how hard it is to steal with one arm?”
“I wasn’t talkin’ about the damn jacket,” he snapped, giving the hood a short tug, the heavy cloth falling into his face. “I meant, why the hell are we gettin’ dressed up? We’re not Robin Hood, goddammit—“ Growling, he gripped the green hood in his fist and yanked it out of his face, the defenseless cloth tearing away from the seams with a loud rip. Slightly dazed, he stared at the remnants of the hood hanging from his fingers, blinking once. Finally, he tossed it into the grass with a slight harrumph, readjusting the neckline of the long coat. “Anyway, why the act? Do these guys even know what we look like?”
The ninja picked up the discarded green hood, wrapping it around her head like a bandanna. “Better safe than sorry,” she retorted, struggling with the knot.
The blond snorted, rolling up the baggy sleeves to his elbow. “This comin’ from you.”
Her gaze darkened, her jaw muscles going taut. “The first thing a ninja learns is stealth. And, besides, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve played dress up to save one of you guys,” she added with a smirk, glancing back to Tifa, who was fighting with her sweatshirt and torn jeans. “So, nya,” she said, sticking her tongue out at the grimacing pilot.
He shook his head, grunting disdainfully as the green collar once again sprung up from its hiding place, scraping at the rough skin his neck. “Grow up, brat.”
Knowing full well that she was egging him on, she grinned innocently, shoving her unmoving left hand into its residing pocket. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Frowning, his eyes flitted up to the makeshift bandanna splayed listlessly on her head, noticing her lack of two useable hands. Without any outward hesitation, he stepped toward her, slapping his hand down on her swollen, numb shoulder, and roughly turning her around. “Hold still,” he muttered as his thick fingers spidered over the back of her head, tying the tattered ends into a knot in quick, jarring motions.
As quickly as he’d come to her aid, the Captain swiftly distanced himself from her, crossing his arms and shifting his stare to Cloud. “Nice get up, Spike. Ya supposed to be some sort of gangster?”
The mercenary harrumphed, adjusting his brown leather fedora to fit atop his spiked hair.
Yuffie blinked, her ebony eyes focused upon the gruff pilot for a moment, before deciding to ignore his good deed of the year. Shaking her head once, she looked at Cloud, suppressing the urge to giggle. He hardly looked like a gangster. In fact, the dirt-stained gray business suit (that was about four sizes too large, she noted with some amusement) looked almost clown-like on him, but she’d never tell him that. “Hey, I wasn’t concerned about making a fashion statement or anything; I just wanted something for you guys to blend in with.”
“If these people already know what we look like,” Tifa began, pulling her long thick hair into a haphazard bun, “then what will putting on different clothes do?”
Rude’s eyebrow rose, his bright green eyes boring into her. “You of all people should understand the importance of putting up a good front.”
The brunette glared warily at him, sighing irritably as she strode next to Cloud. “I’m ready to go.”
He nodded, flexing his shoulders experimentally once. “So am I.” He pivoted, casting a quarter-glance over his shoulder to Cid. “How about you?”
The pilot chewed on his lip, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he huffed with a shrug.
Cloud nodded curtly, facing forward. “Alright then. Let’s mosey.”
The ninja smiled wistfully, her eye straying momentarily to Cid as he shook his head in thinly veiled disgust. Briefly, she checked the older man’s condition. He would have no problem getting in town; he certainly looked the part of a refugee. His hair was flattened with grime, several locks poking out through the oily substance. His clothes (albeit borrowed) were ragged, barely holding any warmth. Three days worth of stubble was showing through the dirt and blood caked on his bruised and burned skin.
And, she discerned, that the gaping wound in his side had been sewed shut and covered in clean white gauze. She wondered exactly what happened last night while she was in Kalm.
Belatedly, she also wondered how why Rude had decided to come with them. Tifa’s short explanation of his arrival hadn’t explained all that much. Maybe he just got sick of the company he’d dealt with. If that turned out to be true, she wouldn’t blame him. “Hey,” she started, walking up next to the silent Turk, “do you need anything to disguise yourself in? I can tell Cid to give you his—“
Rude waved her request away, his face eternally impassive. “Quiet, Kisaragi,” he commanded harshly.
She faltered in her step, tripping over her feet in slack-jawed shock. No one had ever quite talked to her that way before. “What?”
Without acknowledging her stop in movement, he answered, “Don’t talk to me.”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, she narrowed her eyes at him dangerously as he strode away from her. “Hmph, fine! See if I ever try to help you again, you rude, miserable, bald little…” she cursed heatedly under her breath, tromping off towards Cloud.
Her eyes washed over the lush green field that surrounded them, and lost herself in the calmness and serene beauty of the landscape. Suddenly, as she fought off a wave of fatigue that threatened to send her into oblivion, she realized that she needed to get sleep. Her mind was going a million miles an hour in a hundred different directions with the gas tank on empty. Combined, it all meant nothing but trouble.
“So, what’s the plan, Spike?” Cid asked abruptly, silencing Yuffie’s quiet tirade.
Much to her surprise, Cloud’s shoulders suddenly rolled up in a half-hearted shrug. Without breaking step, he twisted his head to peer at her, his cool blue eyes strangely unsettling. Through will alone, she kept her skin from crawling, averting her eyes to the town looming closer as she shook her head clear of the cobwebs that had formed. Yeah, she definitely needed sleep. “Don’t know,” he stated bluntly. “I was assuming Yuffie had one.”
Her eyes quickly found their way back to Cloud’s, as everyone paused to stare at her. Her face fell in a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation. “Actually,” she began, a wisp of a smile on her pale face, “I was hoping you guys could think of something.” She grated her teeth together, waiting for the inevitable uproar.
Cid snorted loudly, chuckling bitterly to himself. Her eyes fluttered closed. Here it came. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me…” Of its own volition, his hand traveled to the side of his head, as if he were trying to remove something from his hair. “Yer tellin’ me that ya want us to go into a town that’s ready to lynch us on sight, and we don’t even got a plan?”
Shaking his head, he dove his hand into his hidden jacket, searching frantically for something inside. With a growl, he finally yanked his hand out and shoved it back into the folds of coarse fabric. “Goddammit, I need a cigarette.”
Frighteningly swift, Rude pulled a Shinra-brand cigarette from his back pocket, a lighter quickly following suit, and handed both to the frazzled pilot. With a look of overdue relief, he plucked the object from his slender fingers, lighting up gratefully. “Thanks,” he muttered between heavy puffs, eyeing the shinobi critically.
Her face twisting slightly in annoyance, she took a defensive posture, glaring back at the haggard blond. “How was I supposed to know there would be some nutcase waiting there to kill all of us?”
He gave her a sour look, expelling two plumes of smoke from his dirt-encrusted nose. “When yer in charge, ya gotta make contingency plans for when shit starts happenin’.”
Yuffie growled, savagely stifling a yawn that tugged at her throat. She was so not in the mood for all this. “Look, I know all about switching gears in mid-stride. I did what I was told, and I adjusted as well as I could. Cut me some slack, already.”
As if disinterested, Cloud turned to the both of them, his angular face betraying nothing. “We should get going. We’ll figure out what to do when we get there.” Without another word, he curtly marched forward through the grass, the blades snapping back and forth as if angered by his presence.
Her lips twisted in a half-hearted sneer, wondering exactly what was bothering him. She knew the guy was a bit of a head-case, and had a serious problem in the approachability department, but this was ridiculous. Shaking her head, the teen gaped at Cid, whom was leisurely puffing on his quickly shrinking cigarette. “You get the feeling this is going to be a bad day?”
He harrumphed, eliciting a thick hack. “Since I’ve met up with you nutjobs, it’s been nothin’ but bad days.” Stamping the smoldering object in the ground, he started off with his trusty spear in hand, holding it as if it were a walking stick. “Story of my goddamn life.”
For a split second, she thought about asking what he meant, but bit her tongue in the end. It was hardly the time to start prying into his past. She could always bug him about it later.
Yawning loudly, she stretched a miniscule amount of the fatigue from her working limbs, and plodded along with the others. Despite the fact that she was heading into mortal danger in a little over three hours, the ninja felt strangely detached. In all honestly, she hadn’t even had the time to deal with the battle stress that Sephiroth had given her, much less the stress that Meteor, the crash, her sudden leadership, and Barret’s very likely execution added, forcing even more weight down upon her slim shoulders. God, life sucked.
Sluggishly, she glanced up, realizing that she was lagging behind, the others marching a few yards ahead of her. Forcing her legs to do her bidding, she jogged next to Cid, somehow finding slight comfort in his presence. She imagined that was it felt like to have an older brother or father figure that actually cared; not that she considered the old goat a role model of any type.
As if he’d read her mind, his head pivoted to look down at her petite form, his face twisted in something that looked vaguely similar to concern. “You okay, brat?” he questioned brusquely.
Keeping her eyes focused forward, she nodded, ignoring the painful crack in her neck. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered non-chalantly. “Why?”
He continued to stare at her, skeptical. “Well, yer not tryin’ to pick a fight with me. Ain’t like ya.”
She attempted to scowl, but realized she was using every ounce of strength to continue walking. “I don’t ‘pick fights’, thank you. I push buttons; it’s totally different.”
His eyebrow arched slightly in thought, returning his gaze to the town ahead. “Yeah, right,” he muttered under his breath.
Her sculpted brows knitted together in challenge, clenching her teeth. “You don’t believe me?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, the muscles in his neck going taut. “No, I don’t.” Quickly, he glowered down upon her with stormy blue eyes, radiating the commanding presence that had earned him the rank of Captain. “Looks to me like yer about three steps away from droppin’ dead. Now, I’m guessin’ that’s ‘cause ya didn’t get any sleep last night.”
He continued to glare silently as she silently berated herself for leaving herself open for a lecture from Ye Mighty Captain. Breaking the silence, he huffed, “Ya can’t do a damn thing if ya can’t stay awake long enough to get it done.”
“I’m doing the best I can, okay?” she retorted lamely, groaning inwardly.
He paused for a moment, his eyes wandering around pensively. “Look, when we hit town limits, you should try to find a little corner somewhere and get some rest. The trial ain’t startin’ for a while.”
Ignoring the fact that he was right in every single respect, she lifted her head up and glared at him defiantly. “I said I’m fine, old man. Drop it, already.”
The pilot scoffed humorlessly, small wrinkles forming where they shouldn’t have been as he scowled. “Oh, cut the goddamn hero crap. It ain’t gonna get ya anywhere. Bottom line, kid, you need the rest.”
Of its own volition, she sucked in a deep breath of air, her eyes watering. Mentally, the ninja winced. Yawning was not the way to prove her point. Quickly, she closed her mouth, keeping her gaze averted from Cid. “Well, how am I supposed to know what to do when I wake up?”
“I’ll fill ya in, alright?” he answered impatiently, fighting back a yawn of his own.
Yuffie’s ebony eyes fell upon the quaint entrance of Kalm town, the old-fashioned rocks painting a deceptive picture of security and wholesomeness. The hundreds of blood-caked, dirt-smeared refugees surrounding the makeshift gallows built in the center of the town square told otherwise. Wearily, she sighed. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”
He shook his head curtly, running his fingers through his unruly blond locks. “This ain’t a matter of choice. It’s do or die time,” he stated dutifully, the edge in his voice sharp enough to kill. “Ya got three hours.” Without another word, he passed by her, striding into the crowded entrance and disappearing.
She rolled her eyes at his theatrics, shaking her head. He certainly wasn’t one for optimism, she mused. Holding her breath, the rubber sole of her sneakers thudded upon the dull gray cobblestones, awaiting the certain death she was expecting. When nothing came, she sighed in relief, reveling in the ability to breathe.
Before she’d regained full control of her senses, a hand shot out from behind and clutched her right arm in a grip of iron. “Remember. Three hours,” a deep voice growled quietly. “Make good use of it.”
Eyes wide, she whirled around, finding herself standing amidst a loud, chaotic mob. Hastily darting down into a nearby alley, she settled into the farthest, darkest corner she could find, her mind on full alert. Whoever that person was, it definitely wasn’t Cid, which only made matters worse.
“So much for sneaking in,” she muttered miserably, resting her head against the cool stone wall, forcing her energy-depleted body to relax. Giving in to the fatigue, her eyes fluttered shut, melting into the crevice she found herself in. Just a few minutes, and she would be good as new…
“Yuffie, wake up.”
She groaned in her throat, shifting her weight. This was an awfully uncomfortable bed.
“Hey, Yuffie!”
She shot up into a semi-defensive kneeling position, her ebony eyes snapping open in shock as she fought to focus her vision. “What the hell?” she mumbled quietly, wracking her brain as to why her left arm wasn’t working. “Who’s there?”
The blob of color in front of chuckled faintly. “It’s me, Yuffie.”
Recognizing the honey-laced giggle of Tifa Lockheart, she collapsed back into her corner, the adrenaline drying up in her veins. “What is it?” she whined, slowly banging the back of her head against the chipped plaster wall as her face began to take shape inches from her.
“It’s time to go,” she answered quickly, her gloved hand clamping down on her arm. Without the slightest hint of effort, she hauled the shinobi to her feet, allowing her a few seconds to force feeling back into her tingling, weighted down legs. “We need to get ready.” Before she’d quite understood what the brunette meant, she began walking, pulling Yuffie along.
Blearily, she made sense of her surroundings. “But, I thought Cid was—“
“Cid’s busy,” Tifa replied hurriedly as they neared the mouth of the dingy alley. “He told me to get you.”
As she was half-led, half-dragged down the main square of the overcrowded township, the teen’s eyes fell upon the quaint entrance of Kalm, her eyes going wide with sudden anxiety. For an instant, she withdrew into herself, her face paling to a deathly white.
Snapping her head to the side, she opened her mouth to speak; unaware that Tifa had been talking to her already. “…You get in position around those guards over there,” she stated, nodding in the direction of the burly men guarding Barret’s cell. “And when Barret goes on trial, we’ll sneak in to rescue Red while Cloud and the rest rush the other guards.”
“Wait, Tifa,” she stated, as her iron legs finally began to move as she commanded them to. “That won’t work.”
She released her arm, which now felt bruised, and turned to face her with concern etched upon her flawless tanned skin. “What do you mean?” she asked, glancing around. “It was your idea to wear disguises, right? Nobody knows who we are—“
She shook her head eagerly, her onyx eyes staring pleadingly at hers. “No, it’s not going to work. Somebody knows.”
Tifa’s sculpted brows knitted together in confusion. “Knows? Knows about what?”
“Us!” she exclaimed in reply, throwing her right hand in the air. Sighing, she paused for an instant, recalling the half-forgotten memory. “After Cid left, I walked into the town limits, and some guy stopped me, saying I should make good use of the three hours I have left.” She nodded meaningfully, her thin lips twisting into a sour expression. “How could that happen at random? I’m telling you, Teef, we’re getting set up.”
The martial artist paused, bringing a glove to her lips. “It could’ve been Cid—“
Yuffie dismissed the thought instantly with a wave of her hand. “No way. I’ve never heard the old man speak that well.” She attempted to shrug, her shoulder protesting the movement. “Besides, it’s not his style to be so…covert.”
“He was in the military, you know,” the brunette retorted, her voice neutral. “He was probably taught how to sneak around.”
The teen shook her head vehemently, clenching her jaw muscles to bite back a mixture of fear, annoyance, and fatigue. “Look, just trust me, Teef. Somebody knows that AVALANCHE is here.” Her eyes fell to the dusty stones at her feet, hoping against hope her suspicions were false. “And, I think I know who it may have been.”
Tifa stared at her curiously, ducking back further into the shadows as a group of people passed by the alley, chattering to each other. “Who?” she asked quietly, flickering her velvet brown eyes over Yuffie’s shoulders every few seconds.
Before she’d been able to form any words, a bell chimed loudly, bouncing off the stone walls of the small town and through the chilled morning air. Pivoting, the shinobi faced the bustling town square, people from all walks of forming a loose circle around the rickety wooden platform. “And, these are the people we all saved,” she muttered to herself bitterly.
Tifa elegantly sidestepped her, marching forward to the mouth of the small alley, stopping only to turn and look at her. “Come on, Yuffie,” she stated. “We need to get ready.”
Her ebony eyes darted to hers, frowning. “But, it’s going to backfire.”
“You don’t know that,” she replied tersely, striding next to her and gripping her arm once again. “The others are counting on us to be there.”
Yuffie’s eyes went wide. “We need to warn them—“
“No time,” Tifa said flatly, leading the way discreetly to the wine cellar-turned-cell. “We all have a plan, and we need to stick to it.”
“Even if it won’t work?” the ninja demanded, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Cid was right; this is stupid.”
“It’s the only choice we have, Yuffie,” the brunette said tiredly as she let go of Yuffie’s arm, ducking around the corner as weapon-clad citizens unlocked the shop’s heavy wooden door. “Okay, as soon as everybody’s attention is turned to Barret, we’ll—“
“Excuse me.”
Startled, Yuffie and Tifa whirled around on their leather boots, instantly finding themselves staring down the barrels of two high-powered rifles. The person who aimed at Yuffie, a handsome man in his mid-thirties, flashed her a wide, toothy grin. “Now, ladies, if you’ll be kind enough to walk over that platform. You’re under arrest for treason.”
–There ya go!–
Oooh! stares at thread and wills it to update dangit!
–Well, for the first time in four months, I’m actually going to post something new to this story. I know, I know, it’s really, really short. But, there’s a larger part coming that will finally wrap this Kalm business up. And, to be honest, I’m really not sure if I should end it there or continue. Oh well, I guess I’ll find out when I get there. (Edit: Screw it. This is Part IX.)–
[i]Hero of the Day
“Feed my brain with your so called standards, who says that I ain’t right…
…Break away from your common fashion, see through your blurry sight.”
–Metallica, “Escape”[/i]
Part IX
Cid was ready for anything.
Except having a gun shoved in his face.
He ground his teeth together, his hands instantly flying palm first into the air. “Whoa,” he yelped, hastily slapping on a bewildered look, “hold on, hold on! What’s the problem? What’d I do?”
The lean man stared at him with one eyebrow arched, appearing bored. “We have reason to believe members of AVALANCE are in Kalm, attempting a rescue on the traitor.” He nodded in the direction of the Item Store, Barret’s temporary prison. Cid resisted the urge to strangle him right then and there. “Do you see anybody suspicious?”
The pilot shrugged, his eyes wide with what he hoped look like shock. He stayed out of drama class for a reason. “No, but I’ll keep an eye out for ya.”
The muscled brunette scrutinized him, his angular face washing over his form. He motioned to the down-turned spear in Cid’s fingers. “What’s with the weapon?”
He bit back an expletive. He never was that good of an actor. He motioned to his leg, contorting his face in confusion. “Hurt my leg,” he answered incredulously, as if shocked that he would ask such a thing. “Besides, ya know how rough it can be out there. Needed the protection.”
The younger man’s full lip twitched upward, his thin face transforming from bored to sinister in an instant. He ignored the chill that ran up his spine. He didn’t like that look. It was too…confident. “Oh?” he huffed, glancing down to his leg. “Then why weren’t you limping?”
The pilot’s stomach tightened. Shit, he’d been watching him. Scrambling for an answer, he shook his head indignantly, disheveled blond locks swaying in front of his face. “Look, pal,” he started with a hiss, “I don’t know what yer problem is, but I’m just here for the show.”
The man cocked the double-barreled shotgun, hefting it in a show of force.
Darting his eyes around, he willed the others to stand out from the rest of the crowd. When they didn’t, Cid scowled darkly, scrambling for options. He never liked covert situations. He was more apt to just go in and punch somebody instead of having to play cloak and dagger. He was like a fish out of water; this wasn’t his style.
The crowd—which had seemingly packed in around him in seconds—began to boo and hiss loudly, objects of various sizes whizzing through the morning air sporadically. He stared past the ragged, huddled masses, coming to focus on Barret, who was led out of his makeshift prison at gunpoint. Chains of all sizes rattled against each other as they tightly bound his arms in front of him, Red slung limply over his broad shoulders.
His smoky eyes scanned the square in growing desperation, acutely aware of the twelve-gauge shotgun aimed in his direction. Intuitively, his grip tightened around the cool metal spear as the seconds ticked by, finding nothing but a sea of dirty, unrecognizable faces. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Barret being ordered to the center of the wooden platform, weapons pointed at him from all sides.
Time was up.
Cid sighed deeply, snorting. “Aw, fuck this,” he muttered heatedly, his dark eyes flickering up to his aggressor’s dangerously as he brought the lightweight spear to his side. With a skill borne of constant fighting, the pilot wheeled it upward unexpectedly, the glinting blade wrenching the shotgun from the younger man’s fingers as it fired in a screaming explosion. Ignoring the scattering crowd, he launched forward, crushing his fist against the side of the man’s face with all the force he could muster, knocking him to the ground in a motionless heap.
Gritting his teeth, he charged the plywood stage, jutting out his shoulder and ramming the nearest lookout in the abdomen, sending the lanky man reeling into the cobblestone ground. Without pause, he turned upon another guard, jabbing the flat end of the spear into his jaw with a painful crack.
Turning his back to Barret, he grimly noted several men of varying sizes dashing madly towards him from all directions, chains and other weapons dangling from their fingers. He wasn’t going to be able to fight everyone in the town off on his own; at least, not without killing a lot of them. While he would’ve enjoyed putting some of the morons in the crowd out of their misery, he doubted that would improve their reputation. Besides, they’d probably shoot him on sight, and he couldn’t help Barret dead.
His eyes narrowed, hunching down in a defensive posture as the smallest two reached him, wildly swinging their thin bike chains. He twisted out of the way of their feeble attack, ramming the base into one man’s stomach, flicking his wrist expertly and slamming the shaft into the side of the other’s head. Panting, the pilot instinctively ducked down, a meaty fist hurtling past his ear. That was a lucky miss, he thought, as he deflected the large man’s arm, countering with a fist of his own.
The goliath stumbled away, but was replaced by five others, snarling in rage.
“Shit,” he hissed, his nostrils flaring as they closed the distance. Moments passed in a blur of motion, lost in a battle-trance. He was snapped back to reality when a fist glanced off of his face, reopening the gash on his forehead with a small spurt of blood. Grimacing, he rolled with the punch, catching himself as the head wound spilled the tiny rivulets of crimson into his eyes. Blinded by the sting, he tried to blink out the blood, striking out wildly with the spear. Miraculously, he managed to block blow after blow as he was slowly pulled from the platform.
His stomach churned in grim dismay, realizing that the only thing keeping him alive was pure luck. Through bleary eyes, he rose his arms to knock away a light aluminum pole, noticing a moment too late someone come from behind, slamming their fist into his side.
Time stopped for an instant, fire erupting from his ribcage and swiftly engulfing his entire body.
His luck just ran out.
The pilot’s deep blue eyes widened, and he cried out hoarsely, doubling over in pain. Before he could recover, a heavy object slammed painfully against his back, sending him to his knees with a dull thud. Gasping audibly, he glowered up to the men that surrounded him—counting ten in all—as they grinned darkly, each of their faces swollen and bleeding in some way.
One stepped forward, hefting a dented crowbar in his scraped hands, a lopsided smirk on his gaunt face. “One good shot deserves another,” he spat snidely, his eyes flashing in malevolence. A jolt of electricity ran its way up his spine, recognizing him as the man who originally threatened him with the shotgun.
Cid’s face darkened, summoning up every ounce of hatred he had, and spat up blood-laced phlegm on the man’s boots. “Go to hell,” he growled heatedly.
His eyes shot down to the murky goo that was oozing off his shoe, his lips twisting in revulsion. Shaking with fury, he returned his gaze to the pilot, snarling, “You first.” Without another word, the crowbar made a swift arc toward his head, and he saw a bright flash of white, hearing a distant crack before all went black.
–There ya go!–
You seriously are the master of the cliffhangers, aren’t you!!
How could you leave it there, of all places, I want to know what happens to Cid!! But anyway, this is one great fic, and you are one talented author!!
I’ve been waiting avidly for the new stuff ^^ and it’s as good as I expected it to be! Great job, SK!