Tumgik
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
37. silver; pokemon; 692 words
notes: this is my last pokemon intro piece! also it’s kind of my favorite tbh and not just because it’s silver
There was once a boy caught on the rainbow’s fringes.
You’ll hear about him from time to time, in company of the others,
laughing with the green, arguing with the silver, thrown into the gold’s antics.
You’ll look at him and see how they’ve lightened him a bit, from quiet black to smoky gray. He’s lighter, somehow.
The boy was born a thief, born a criminal, born the heir to an empire.
An empire which crumbled at the feet of children.
An empire which sent the boy running across regions, hating everything, everyone, desiring nothing but pain.
He’s stopped by something strange—
A golden boy and a silver girl.
The boy laughs, smiles, treats every battle as a game. The girl yells, shouts, demands justice and integrity. The two trainers show up constantly and they drive the gray boy positively mad.
When he travels the region they’re there. When he does his best to gather information on Team Rocket they are there.
(“It’s driving me crazy,” he confesses to his childhood friend, in a rare Pokegear conversation after a long game of phone tag. She giggles and says nothing to help.)
There are other things that frustrate him, too—the way Team Rocket’s grunts prowl about, and the sour dragon-type trainer who defeats him with ease, later teaming up with Ethan to stop Team Rocket’s efforts in Mahogany. He’s met with defeat and a lecture, of all things, scowling as the Dragon Trainer berates him for not taking better care of his Pokémon.
“They obviously care about you,” the trainer says. “Why is beyond me. But you ought to return the favor.”
He rolls his eyes and ignores the advice. Later, after his Pokémon have been healed and he is gathering information in Goldenrod City, he releases his team and watches them for several long minutes. He watches the Feraligatr he stole back in New Bark Town, the Nidoking he’s had since he was a child, and as much as he hates to admit it, he ponders the Dragon Trainer’s words.
He thinks about it when Ethan and Lyra take down Team Rocket again, sending them into obscurity once more.
He thinks about it when Ethan positively destroys him in battle on Victory Road.
He thinks about it during his trip across Kanto, when he meets up with Lyra in Mt. Moon and she confesses that maybe, just maybe, she might have misjudged him.
The next string of phone tag with his childhood friend goes on for weeks. When he calls back her Pokegear, he doesn’t actually expect her to answer, and when she does, he’s left silent for so long that he can hear her laughing on the other line.
“Leaf, stop,” he snaps with a roll of his eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Around,” the girl responds. “I met your friends! They’re nice.”
“They’re not—” he begins, but lets his voice trail. There’s not really a point in faking it anymore. He sighs, and half of his team smirks at him—Sneasel perched on Nidoking’s shoulder, Crobat fluttering somewhere in the trees overhead.
“They called you Silver. Did you change your name?”
“It’s no big deal.” Silver shrugs and glances up at Feraligatr. He is camping outside of Viridian Forest, and has let his team out to enjoy the fresh air. Viridian City is a short walk away, but even ignoring Viridian City’s obnoxious new gym leader, the town is full of memories he’d rather not touch at the moment. Feraligatr does not move, letting the redhead lean against him. “I never gave them my name. Ethan just ran with it. I kind of… I don’t mind it. It’s different.”
Somehow, he’s become a Pokémon Trainer instead of Giovanni’s son.
“You sound happy, then. I’m glad.” He can hear the smile in her voice, the contentment. “Everything works out, doesn’t it, Kamon?”
Silver looks around at his Pokémon—his team, his companions—and listens to a quick beep as his Pokegear records a message while already on the current call. He catches the eye of his Feraligatr and allows himself a brief, rare smile. “Yeah. I guess it does.”
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
36. lyra; pokemon; 558 words
notes: two more days!
There once was a girl from New Bark Town.
She’s long gone, but she still stops by from time to time.
If Ethan serves as Johto’s sun—bright, shining gold—then she is its moon. She’s capable of shining, yes, and she’s plenty beautiful, but from every so often she hides away from the rest.
The girl appears when she’s needed.
Ethan meets the silver-eyed thief for the first time but it’s her who corners him outside of Cherrygrove, furious, yelling for him to return the Pokémon he stole. The boy refuses and she is left fuming long after the battle Ethan wins against him. Like he does with most things, Ethan takes the mystery thief in stride, but the girl refuses to forget him.
When Professor Oak gathers the two of them together and presents them with a Pokedex, the girl discovers her mission. Here is a job that can be kept to herself. Here is a job that she can do. Catching Pokémon? No problem. With Chikorita by her side, she has no doubt that she is going to catch them all.
(When she admits her goal, Ethan says loudly that he knows that she is going to do it, without a doubt.)
Her mission takes her across the region. Her mission takes her through gym battles and across routes. She does not get a chance to speak to the silver-eyed thief again until she finds him in Olivine City. Immediately, she challenges him to a battle.
“I don’t care if you’re Ethan’s rival,” she shouts, reaching for Meganium’s Pokeball in her bag. “I’m gonna make you return the Pokémon you stole.”
He scoffs but does not speak, tossing out a Pokeball of his own.
She fights him, and she wins, but she feels like she loses. Because that Totodile he stole—a Feraligatr now—does not seem like a sad, kidnapped Pokémon at all. It looks—almost happy.
(“I forgot all about that,” Ethan confesses when she asks him if he’s noticed anything odd. She rolls her eyes; she should have known to expect anything else.)
She doesn’t get a chance to talk to him alone for at least another month. It’s long after Team Rocket has risen and fallen again, and long after Ethan has become Johto’s newest champion; she’s traveling the Kanto region in search of more entries to complete her Pokedex when she finds him outside Mt. Moon.
They battle again. She still wins, but the battle lacks the ferocity it held in Olivine City.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
The boy narrows his eyes, returning Feraligatr to its Pokeball.
“Professor Elm said you tried to give the Pokémon back. But he wouldn’t take it. He said it liked you too much.”
She clutches at the strap of her messenger bag and bows her head. “I misjudged you, and I’m sorry.”
“Lyra.”
Her head jerks up. It’s the first time the boy has ever said her name.
“Don’t give up.”
She stares at him. His face flushes, and his hands bury deep in the pockets of his jacket, as if he can hide himself from the conversation. “I mean… do your best. And I will, too.”
Lyra grins and nods her head.
Two months later, she’s got a plane ticket out of the region.
Filling the Pokedex is an big job, after all.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
35. ethan; pokemon; 768 words
notes: day 5!  johto trio incoming!
There once was a boy from New Bark Town.
You’ve probably heard of him.
It’s a host on one of Johto’s many radio stations who brings him up. “He’s just like Red,” he states.
The co-host chuckles. “How could you think that? They’re nothing alike.”
“Okay, okay, maybe. Red was the Champion three years ago. Where is he now? Long gone. No one’s heard from him. This kid, on the other hand, he’s all over the place, he talks, he…”
The radio station goes on for several minutes on the topic of Johto’s newest hero and champion. Riding his bike towards Ecruteak City, the boy himself eats it up.
They’re not wrong. There’s something about the boy reminicscent of Red, but different. He talks for one thing. The boy definitely talks. He’s all over the place—constantly flying from place to place and city to city. He’s always got a plan. While Red seems to shun social interaction, he welcomes it at every turn.
He’s a frequent guest on the radio station and participates weekly in the bug catching contest. He runs errands for the Day Care couple and hatches eggs for Mr. Pokémon. There is nothing he will not do for the people of Johto and they love him for it.
He takes his strange golden aura with him to Kanto and tackles the gyms there with the same fervor. Honestly, it isn’t until the last gym where he finally gets a real challenge in Viridian City. He and Typhlosion still emerge victorious, and he breaks out into an excited grin, ready to thank the leader for such a great battle.
“So I guess Johto trainers aren’t that bad,” Blue drawls, returning his Pidgeot to its Pokeball. “If you can beat me, I guess you’re doing something right. I guess…”
He pauses for a moment, a grin on his face.
“Here.” Blue crosses the battlefield and presses the last gym badge into the boy’s open palm. “Here’s the Green Badge… and a TM, of course. You know how it goes. Where do you plan on heading to next?”
“I’m not sure,” the boy admits. He hasn’t thought about it yet. “Back to Johto, maybe?”
“Why don’t you try heading out to Mt. Silver?” Blue asks. “If you can. Place is a living nightmare. I really don’t know how he can stand it. I swear he’s some kinda masochist or something.”
“He?”
“You’ll figure it out when you get there. Good luck, kid, if you plan on going. You’re gonna need it.”
There’s no way that he could refuse a tip from a trainer as important as Blue, and so the boy bundles up and takes his team out to Mt. Silver. Blue was right—the trek isn’t easy. It takes him days to reach the top and the mountain is positively freezing.
One night, he and Typhlosion take refuge in one of the mountain’s many caves, away from the wind, and he calls up his best friend on his Pokegear.
“So how is the mountain? Is it awful?” A girl’s voice asks as she picks up.
“Only a little,” the boy answers, and sneezes. “There’s lots of different Pokémon out here. You’d probably like it.”
“I’ll probably head up there at some point, but definitely not now. Too cold for me. What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Blue sent me up here.”
“Isn’t he kind of a jerk? Are you sure he wasn’t just messing with you?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” the boy insists. “He was telling the truth.”
“Whatever you say. I’m not the one freezing up on some snowy mountaintop. When you get sick of it and come back home, I’ll buy you a hot chocolate and check your Pokedex, okay?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Just don’t freeze. I really don’t want to come up there to find your body!”
Two days later he finds him.
There is a boy on the mountaintop. For a moment, he just thinks that he is hallucinating. There is no way that there could be anyone up here! Is this boy insane? Nothing makes sense!
But it does make sense. This must be the boy Blue was talking about, whom everyone talks about. This must be the original legend. The champion.
“Hello!” He shouts over the winds with a wave of his arm. “My name is Ethan! Are you Red?”
The boy tips his hat and tosses out a Pokeball. Charizard appears with a roar.
It’s an invitation to battle if he has ever seen one. Ethan grins, and Typhlosion leaps into the fray.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
34. leaf; pokemon, 573 words
notes: day 4! this is the last of the kanto quartet!
There were once three boys from Pallet Town.
There was also a girl, but no one seems to mention her much.
Go up to anyone in Pallet Town and ask about the girl who received a Pokedex. You’ll most likely receive a head tilt and a confused, “Who?”
Everyone seems to remember the boys.
The girl is much harder.
If one goes back into Pallet Town’s history, they might remember the family that left, years ago, in search of fame and fortune. They might remember that that family had a daughter. They might connect the pieces and wonder if, all these years later, that same daughter is the one who asked for a Pokedex and an excuse to take on Team Rocket.
The girl of Pallet Town mostly sticks to the fringes. For someone who likes to make herself known—friendly, energetic, constantly bouncing from place to place—she leaves herself a mystery. No one knows where she was from before she came to Pallet Town. No one knows where she is going. She claims to be taking on the gyms but stops after her seventh badge, shortly after Giovanni disappears. Any attempt to crack the girl’s mystery is left with a giggle and a shrug.
Not even her friends seem to know much about her—not that it bothers them. (Boys, she will scorn, and roll her eyes.) Red is too quiet; Yellow prefers to respect her privacy; Blue finds her annoying and claims he wants nothing to do with her.
When Team Rocket declares their efforts to take over Saffron City, the girl is the one who is there first. She releases her Wigglytuff from its Pokeball and lets it follow her all the way down to Silph Co. It’s there where she finds Yellow, pacing outside, contemplating his options.
When he sees her his face lights up, relieved to see someone friendly. “We should do something, I think,” he says.
The girl nods. “Okay! Then lead the way!”
He hesitates, confused by her surge of enthusiasm. “Why are you so excited?”
“Does it matter?” she exclaims, reaching forward and pushing at his shoulder. “We have to figure out what they want, right? We have to do something! Let’s get going!”
Yellow doesn’t understand her fixation with Team Rocket, but he dutifully follows
(Later, as they’re resting in the Silph Co. building, he notices a piece of paper sticking out of her bag.
It’s a photograph, worn, faded and creased with age.
It’s a picture of two children—a little girl with long brown hair, and a redheaded boy—and two Nidoran.
Yellow doesn’t ever tell her he saw the picture.)
It isn’t until years later until things start to fall into place. It isn’t until Team Rocket rises, and falls again, that things start to make sense. At this point the girl’s anger towards them has died somewhat; she still fights, but behind the scenes. She disappears for several weeks but, unlike Red, keeps her Pokegear on and checks it frequently.
Two days after meeting a sour redheaded boy and the duo who defeated Team Rocket, Yellow takes out his Pokegear and calls her.
“Leaf?”
“Yeah?”
“This is going to sound really weird, but… I just wanted to let you know that we’re family, the four of us. I just wanted to let you know that.”
There’s silence for a very long moment on the other line.
“…Thank you, Yellow.”
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
33. yellow; pokemon; 619 words
notes: day 3! there are certain character aesthetics I always use when writing and yellow is the best example of my favorite
There were once three boys from Pallet Town.
This is the one no one bothers to remember.
Most of the time he does not care. When the conversation turns to Pallet Town and the two boys who have made it famous, he does not bother to speak up and mention that he was there, too. That he was supposed to be the third trainer from Pallet Town. That everything changed when he woke up five minutes too late, racing to the Pokémon Laboratory only to find a girl in his place.
(He let the girl take the Pokémon without argument. The look on her face when she received her partner—he couldn’t ever take that from her.)
He wouldn’t change anything, anyway. Not for the world. He loves the Pikachu he received instead. It follows him constantly, always two steps behind or constantly perched on his shoulder or backpack. The two got off to a rocky start but are best friends now. He can’t think of anyone he would rather share a journey with.
He does not care about the attention given to Red and Blue because he knows that he is not as good as them. Champion, Gym Leader—and then there’s this third boy, this outcast, this one who has never even faced on the Pokémon League. He’s the one who stopped his gym mission halfway through. He’s the one who attempted to destroy Team Rocket and left the building nearly in tears. He’s the one who can’t seem to do anything right.
(He’s even convinced that he looks unforgettable. Blond hair, blue eyes, dressed in yellow and gray, a black beanie perched on his head. He could be any trainer from any city. He lacks Red’s stoicism or Blue’s charisma. He’s downright unremarkable.)
But he’s the boy with the camera on his hip, always searching for the perfect shot. He’s the one who forms his Pokémon team not for their prowess in battle, but because they are his friends. He’s the one who helped comfort the Pokémon in Pokémon Tower and silence Marowak’s vengeful ghost. The boy is special in his own way, he just has yet to see it.
Not that he minds. He’s content to roam about on his own journey. He steers clear of Pallet Town, his hometown, and Viridian City, where reporters and Blue’s followers tend to congregate. Everywhere else is fair game. Sometimes he travels alone; sometimes he travels with a green trainer with bright eyes and a bounce to her step. He likes to travel with her more than he expects. The girl talks a mile a minute, always ready for an adventure. He is more than willing to let her take the lead.
“Yellow!” She yells out one day, waving her arms, as if they have not seen each other for weeks rather than hours. Pikachu chirps at his shoulder and gestures in the way of the hyperactive girl, and he trots his way towards her, confused by her sudden excitement.
“I have a surprise.” She grins, the expression lighting up her whole face. “A job, if you’re interested. And I know you would be.”
“A job?” Yellow repeats slowly, exchanging glances with Pikachu. The mouse shrugs the best it can, Pikachu-speak for I don’t know, you figure it out. “What do you mean? With Pokémon?”
“Of course!” The girl exclaims. “Do you think I would have asked you otherwise?”
Yellow smiles and nods and hmms in agreement. He likes the sound of that we; he likes it more than he thought he would. He may not be the best trainer out there, but he has the best friends, so maybe he doesn’t have to be. “Then why not?”
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
32. blue; pokemon; 732 words
notes: day 2! blue’s the boy yo
There were once three boys from Pallet Town.
This is the one who likes to make himself known.
It’s made painfully obvious one day, two years after the fall of Team Rocket, when a dreadfully naïve newsreporter finally manages to corner Viridian City’s new Gym Leader.
“What’s it like,” the reporter says, “To be from the same town as the Champion? People must talk about him a lot. How does it feel?”
This is right around when the negative press surrounding Red begins to surface, right after his first disappearance. He can see it in her eyes: past her fake sympathy, there’s something hungry there, something eager. She’s looking for her next big break and assumes she has found it.
Until the gym leader opens his mouth.
“Champion? I was Champion too, you know? Did you ever bother to research that?”
The reporter’s mouth snaps closed.
“I’m far from just a trainer, you know! I also do some research for my gramps—the Professor Oak, I’m sure you’ve heard of him—so that’s why I decided to take the job here in Viridian, you know, so I’m still here when he needs me. After all, who best to be the eighth gym leader than the guy who took on the Elite Four himself? The league told me they offered Red the job first, but the poor kid’s never been able to carry a conversation, much less run a gym. So who was the best fit? Yours truly! Of course, this was on battle skills alone—they didn’t even think about how smart I am, or how much traveling I’ve done, or even what type of team I have…”
The Viridian City gym leader, Kanto very quickly discovers, is very good at talking.
“And humble,” the green trainer giggles, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch. Of course, he has just had to have everyone stop by his sister’s place to watch television and see his first big interview. He’s invited everyone, but Red—like always—is a no show. He’s been gone 37 days so far, not that he’s keeping count.
“Shut up,” the new gym leader snaps with a roll of his eyes. He pushes her shoulder and knocks her into the yellow boy on her other side. “I had to do something to get her to shut up about Red! It’s all they want to talk about, this bad press bullshit. It’s supposed to be about me!”
“That was very nice of you, then,” the yellow boy says diplomatically. “To try to protect Red like that.”
“Shut up,” he snaps. “I told you it’s about me! Red can cover his own ass, if he’d ever bother to actually show up.”
He will not admit having kept count the number of days that Red has gone missing. He will not admit to the number of messages he has left on Red’s Pokegear. He has already formed a reason if someone asks for his strange obsession; It’s time for a rematch; time to see if he can battle a real gym leader; if I don’t look after him, who will? Out of their two remaining friends, one is too distracted and the other too meek to even think about wondering how Red is doing.
“It’s perfectly normal,” he tells himself. “You know him best—you’ve know him since you were kids—and you know he’s an idiot. You know he won’t take care of himself. Someone’s gotta do it.”
Of course, he has much more to do in his life besides just baby-sit Kanto’s Hero. He’s got a gym to run, for one thing, and places to go and things to do and people to meet. A grinning boy from Johto with eyes shimmering like gold challenges him to a battle—and he loses. The golden boy cheers in excitement at the end of the battle, pumping a fist into the air as if this is his first gym battle won rather than his sixteenth.
Blue smiles despite himself and sends the boy Red’s way, figuring the boy could use a bit of cheer.
He then packs his things and leaves on a trip of his own.
He comes back four months later to a line of anxious trainers and a furious Pokémon League, but he takes it in stride.
After all, who could ever replace a boy like him?
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
31. red; pokemon; 397 words
notes: this is a seven part story of a oneshot I did to establish personalities for my pokemon story cast. this is being uploaded in seven parts, mostly honestly to give me a chance to work on real life stuff and maybe make a backlog, and also play dissidia tbh because squall.
There were once three boys from Pallet Town.
This is the one whom everyone talks about.
He’s been called a lot of things.
Trainer. Champion. Master. Legend.
The “Hero of Kanto,” they call him. And rightfully so. He is the one who took down Team Rocket, they’ll claim; he is the one who stormed Silph Co.; he is the one who took down Giovanni.
Kanto’s own hero is a boy who hides his face. Kanto’s hero is that boy in the corner of the room, the one who tips his baseball cap low to hide himself from sight. He’s the one who disappears for months and months at a time without a trace—no contact, no message, nothing left behind—until the legend of Kanto has become just that. A legend.
He’s the one who stands in the back during television interviews, uncomfortable, tugging on the brim of his hat as one of his friends volunteers to answer the questions. The blue’s loud boasting; the green’s energetic exclamations; even the quiet yellow will speak up so he does not have to.
Eccentric. Antisocial. Strange.
(He’s been called a lot of things.)
But he doesn’t care about any of it. He’ll deal with the attention, and the whispers, and the rumors—all of it—just for the chance to get back on that battlefield.
Those battles; that’s what he truly wants.
It’s what has driven him all this time, from starting his journey to defeating Team Rocket to finishing it. The whirr of a Pokémon battle, the exhilaration of it, the cool metal of a Pokeball in his hand. His Pokémon jumping out before him, eagerly awaiting his commands, just as excited as he. Pokémon and trainer move in sync, with the flick of a wrist and barely a word, in a whirlwind of battle commands and sparks and flames and victory.
(After all, Kanto’s Hero never loses.)
He lives for battle. He thrives on the possibility of growing stronger. That’s what causes him to leave for months without human contact—speaking to no one except for the six Pokeballs on his belt.
Times passes and the messages start to crowd his Pokegear, from trainers every color of the rainbow.
Mostly, Red ignores them.
Other times, he doesn’t.
Somehow, despite rarely making calls, despite disappearing for weeks and months, he always comes back.
(Somehow, they always let him.)
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
30. ike/soren; fire emblem; 296 words
notes: good evening I am playing dissidia I am lucky I remembered to post this it’s pointless ike/soren intro thing I guess idk it’s pretty short
There’s a sense of familiarity ringing alarm bells in the back of Ike’s mind when he meets the new tactician for the first time. He can’t quite put his finger on why. But he looks at the pale boy—shorter than him, pale skin, red eyes—and he can’t quite shake the feeling that he knows him from somewhere.
Years later Ike will decide that this is always what happens when you meet someone who is destined to be a part of your life: you feel like you know them, even before you meet. Because there is no way that he would ever forget seeing Soren before. He looks to be about Mist’s age—even though Ike’s father tells him that he is closer to Ike’s age, probably older—dressed in mage’s robes and a permanent scowl.
He’s put in Ike’s room, which is more commonly used as a guest room when they actually have guests. Ike would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to have another boy his age around. Everyone is older than him except for his sister and Rolf—both still little kids. Boyd is around his age, and he’s great to spar and hang around with, but Ike will always welcome another friend.
Of course, that all depends on if the Greil Mercenaries’ newest member wants to have friends. At the moment, the boy is quiet in the best of times and worst for most others. He is a lethal combination: a sharp tongue and sharper temper. He’s able to keep conversations with his father and Titania and dances word games around Shinon and Gatrie. His wit is mostly lost on most of the kids, although they can at the very least recognize when they are being made fun of.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
29. zack fair; kingdom hearts; 180 words
notes: In honor of a) dissidia coming out this week and b) real life stuff the updates this week will probably be really short! I apologize! But they are something! Hopefully I will write more!
Radiant Garden is a big city.
Zack has noticed it since he was young. He knows that it is big, because he can be sixteen years old and still not know everyone in it. He knows that the city is large so long as there are still places to explore. He’s spent his life exploring them. He and his friends have run across the city of Radiant Garden—through its flowers and across its rooftops and onto its forbidden wall, where beyond it stretches out the empty world, quiet and wild.
Zack knows his city. It is large but there is a comfort to it. There are the walls that keep the monsters out, and the giant castle that houses the king that keeps them all safe. Sure, there are bad things that happen sometimes—monster attacks that remind everyone of the orphanage situated right near the outer gardens—but there are people to deal with that. Radiant Garden is familiar, it is beautiful. Everything has its place.
Never has Zack Fair thought of his world as small.
Until now.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
28. ike/soren; fire emblem modern au; 461 words
notes: I am all caught up with this challenge and what I have written for my raven/lucius fic, but due to real life I haven’t written more yet. So, until then, this is a piece of ikesoren that I wrote a while back. It’s similar to the raven/lucius fic--modern au, alternate take on their support chain. this scene takes place before the branded discovery, and close after greil’s death. I will perhaps publish this fic someday too, but I’m focusing on the raven/lucius one first.
For the first night the two boys stay in what has become Soren’s room. At least, it is supposed to be his room; there is not much to prove that he might belong there. His clothes barely fill half the dresser and the rest of his belongings mostly consist of books that take up barely two shelves. His backpack hangs over the back of the desk chair, on which sits a neat stack of notebooks and folders.
Ike is laying on the bed, thumbing his way through some mobile game Ranulf told him about. He is laying on his stomach, which must mean that his ribs must be healing—a relief, especially since the incident with Skrimir. Soren will never admit it out loud, but he has been terrified of the idea that his actions might have hurt Ike permanently.
Soren himself sits on the floor, his back against the bedframe, leafing through a book and trying to push the memories of the apartment complex out of his mind. The thoughts will not go away, however, especially when Ike speaks, his gaze still focused on his phone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying there?”
Soren can either play it off or give in to his embarrassment. He takes the former. “Does it matter?”
“No. I was just wondering.” Ike pauses, grimacing as a melancholic tone sounds from his phone, signaling his defeat. “You know you could have stayed here, before. You always could have stayed here. I know you were worried about the money but my dad—he would have worked something out.”
Soren pauses over the mention of Greil. It’s one of the few times that Ike has mentioned him and this time he barely pauses over it. He is quiet, too, as if he’s noticing it. “He did offer,” he admits. “I turned him down.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.” Petrine’s words bounce around his brain. He knows who she is and he knows that she was probably just throwing out barbs hoping to sting, but he can’t stop thinking about them. Freak. She spoke with such confidence, with a knowledge behind her words, not a simple woman throwing out petty insults.
What the hell was she talking about?
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Ike says. “But if you do, I’ll listen.”
Soren gives him a short nod, shutting his book and picking up his phone. This is a problem that could be solved with a quick search and a few keywords. He could easily prove, here and now, that Petrine’s words mean nothing. But Soren closes his web browser and opens up the link to download the game that Ike has been playing. It will be something he researches later, in private.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
27. raven/lucius, fire emblem modern au, 882 words
notes: by posting this now, I am catching up with what I have worked on with this fic, meaning that I have to write more!
Back at the car, he pauses briefly to throw Lucius’s backpack with his own things in the backseat. In the driver’s seat, he starts the car and mutes the stereo. He pauses briefly to check his phone, scowling at the list of notifications on his screen. “I’ve got half the school texting me now, so thanks for that,” he grumbles, shoving his phone back into his jacket pocket. He adds a mental curse to Eliwood for good measure—surely it’s his doing. “Them and your creepy fortuneteller kid—Lucius!”
He has his eyes shut again, head back against the seat. Raven pushes him in the shoulder, hard, and his eyes fly open; he jerks forward in his seat and cries out, clutching at his head.
Raven slams on the gas and peels out of the parking lot. If Ninian and her brother are still here, they definitely see them leave, and their concern is definitely justified now. But the entire school could be watching and Raven would not care. His phone can vibrate from calls from the entire team and he would not care about that either. His mind is in a surprisingly calm place as he guides the car down the street.
“Raven, where are you going?” Lucius’s voice is quiet, even in the silence of the car. He sits up, grimacing a little at the motion. “Raven.”
“What do you think?” he mutters darkly. The speedometer climbs but he does not even see it. He barely sees the road; he is on autopilot, driving down old side streets from memory. “This has to stop.”
“Raven.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care anymore.”
“Raymond!” Lucius grabs at his arm, reaching for the wheel. Instinctively, Raven slams on the brake; both are thrown forward as the car screeches to a stop, seatbelts snapping into place. Luckily, the road is empty; luckily, no one is behind them. Raven throws the car into park and leans back in his seat, breathing heavily. Lucius does the same, grimacing as he pulls away from the seatbelt.
Raven keeps his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed straight ahead. From the corner of his gaze he can see Lucius staring at him. He does not turn his head; he keeps his eyes forward, toward the street. He swallows before forcing himself to speak; his voice is nearly hoarse when he finally manages to find it. “I know that it will rat us out and I know that it will ruin everything but none of it will matter if you’re dead!”
A car pulls up behind them and starts honking. Robotically, Raven pushes the car back into drive and keeps going. The vehicle is silent; Raven does not speak, does not dare tear his eyes from the road. He just drives. Eventually, he finds the parking lot to their apartment complex and pulls the car inside.
Lucius surprises him by breaking the silence. “I’m sorry,” he says as he takes off his seatbelt. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Seriously?” Raven snaps. “Dammit, Lucius, either yell at me or don’t! Make up your mind. Are you mad at me or not?”
“I’m not. I’m not mad.”
It is hard to stay angry when Lucius refuses to give. It is comical how only one of them can stay angry at each other at a time; either Raven grows angry and is met with never-ending patience, or Lucius grows frustrated and is met with nothing but Raven’s stubborness and sick sense of self-satisfaction at riling him up. For the past few weeks the two of them have traded arguments back and forth that have resulted in nothing. It is useless, yelling like this. It does nothing and it the anger doesn’t help Raven feel better.
The threat of Lucius being angry and leaving is a dark cloud that he’s finally noticing exists. It’s been trailing him since their fight yesterday. He couldn’t place it before, but seeing Ninian made him realize it. He’s scared of losing him, whether he decides to leave or by some other means. 
He’s so weak.
“Why didn’t you call?” he asks. “If you’re not mad at me.”
“I thought I did.” 
Raven takes his phone out of his pocket. He clears his notifications and scrolls past the new text messages to look for his past conversation with Lucius. It’s empty; no new messages. He looks up to say something and sees Lucius on his own phone. “It didn’t send,” he says. “It never actually went through. I’m sorry.”
Raven puts his phone away.
“Raven, I’m not leaving,” Lucius says. “I never planned on leaving.”
“Maybe you should,” Raven mutters. “Especially if all I’m doing is stressing you out. It scared me, thinking that you were going to leave, but I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“Raven…”
Raven is quiet as he gets out of the car. He carries none of the anger from earlier as he goes to the backseat and gathers both of their things. He does not speak as he follows Lucius up the stairs to the apartment, waiting for him to unlock the door so he can throw the bags down inside. He does not say anything.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
26. raven/lucius; fire emblem modern au; 1028 words
notes: day 3!  I don’t really have any notes so here you go
She passes him and leads him across the parking lot, to the elementary school playground. The elementary school is strangely small, smaller than Raven remembers it being; it is also empty, so everyone who attends the after-school program must be inside, and no one sees the two boys huddled in the corner of the school.
Ninian stated that he must be used to this; she was right. Raven is used to his friend’s fainting spells and his annoying ability to work himself to exhaustion. But no matter how many times he has done this, he still is not prepared to see him slumped against the corner of the building, eyes shut, skin paled to a shade even lighter than Ninian’s near-bluish skin.
The smaller boy tugs on Lucius’s sleeve and glances over his shoulder. He sees Raven and Ninian and scrambles to his feet, tripping over himself to run to his sister. He is just as pale and delicate as she is, although his hair is several shades darker than her pale blue. “I—I didn’t know,” he stammers out. “He said he was fine and that I didn’t need to do anything but—but—”
“It’s all right,” Ninian assures. She looks over her brother’s head at Raven and that is what finally spurs him into motion. He runs and skids to a stop to kneel in the gravel, tearing at the hem of his shorts and scraping up his knees in the process. 
Lucius’s face is bleached of color, turning it nearly gray. Normally, whenever anyone approaches him when he’s like this, he is quick to jump to his feet, eager to play it off or assure that he is all right. Now he does not move; he doesn’t even open his eyes.
“Lucius.” Raven pushes his shoulder, trying to ignore the panic that is settling in his chest. When there is no answer, he shakes him harder. “Lucius!”
After what feels like an eternity, he groans. His eyelids flicker. Raven lets out a breath he did not know he was holding and keeps his hand on Lucius’s shoulder. “You better be alive, because I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Finally, slowly, Lucius opens his eyes. Some of the color is coming back into his face, but he is still much too pale. Ninian and her brother approach them, concern identical on both their faces. Before Lucius can attempt to speak Raven turns to face them. “Thank you,” he says. His desire to get rid of the siblings makes the thanks come easy. “I’ll take him home. You guys can go.”
Ninian frowns; she does not believe him. Neither sibling moves.
“Do you need a ride?” Raven asks, intentionally misunderstanding their silence. Ninian shakes her head. “We don’t live too far from here.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.” Raven turns back to Lucius. He appears to be alert, attentive, even if he has still not spoken. He leans forward, whispering too softly for Ninian and her brother to hear. “I don’t know if you can or not, but unless you want the psychic siblings to call an ambulance, you need to stand up.”
He stands, grimacing as he brushes the gravel from his cuts, and holds out a hand. Lucius reaches out and takes it; Raven grips it tight and pulls him to his feet. He sways a little, and Raven doubts that he will stay standing; he keeps his grip tight on Raven’s hand, leans against him, but at least he stays upright.
Finally, the siblings leave. Ninian does not look like she believes them one bit but she looks down and says something to her little brother. The boy frowns, nods, and follows her as they leave the playground and disappear around the side of the school. Raven watches them go.
“Can you walk?” Raven asks when they are finally gone.
Lucius frowns and does not answer. Raven is pretty sure that he is the only thing keeping the blond upright at this point. He steps forward once, then another. His footsteps are achingly slow. 
Rolling his eyes, Raven sighs loudly and stops him, sweeping his best friend’s legs out from under and carrying him, bridal style. It’s surprisingly easy to do; Lucius is not short but he is skinny and abnormally light. The moment Raven picks him up he gasps, flinching, eyes squeezing shut. Raven pauses, thinking that he is going to pass out again, when he finally speaks. His voice is so quiet that Raven can barely hear it, but fierce despite the lack of volume. “Put me down.”
Raven smiles at the anger in Lucius’s tone and the pink that is rising to his cheeks. “Nice to see you getting some color back into your face.”
“Raymond.”
“Nice try.” Raven carries him all the way out to the parking lot. Luckily Ninian is not here, waiting to see whether they make it home or not. He tries to unlock the car door but the keys are still in his jacket pocket. He sets Lucius down so that he can unlock it, watching as the blond leans against the car for support. 
“Get in,” Raven orders, opening the door for him. “Where’s your stuff? Back at the school?”
Lucius nods.
“I’ll go grab it. Wait here in the car. I’ll be right back.”
He barely makes it across the parking lot when he spots a head of blue hair. Hidden between school vehicles he once again meets Ninian’s brother; he is carrying Lucius’s messenger bag. He holds it out.
“Uh, thanks,” Raven says, taking it. “Where did your sister go?”
The boy is quiet. He watches him curiously, a look that makes him look even more like his older sister.
“Your future is unclear,” he says.
Raven grunts. “What, you a fortuneteller too?”
“Yes.” The boy’s serious expression makes it hard to poke fun at him. “You are at a crossroads,” he says. “Soon, you will have to choose between the two things dearest to your heart.”
“What?”
“I have to go. My sister is waiting for me.”
Raven watches the boy disappear in maze of cars. He still does not see Ninian anywhere.
(to be continued)
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
25. raven/lucius; fire emblem modern au; 590 words
notes: this is a continuation of yesterday’s work. I’m still going..
The girl is the one who follows him.
She chases after him, her blue hair flying behind her like a cape. She does not stop. She has bracelets on both wrists and a collection of anklets on one leg and they jingle like windchimes as she runs. She does not stop until Raven has reached she car and thrown his things in the backseat. “What do you want?” he snaps, his voice coming out a lot harsher than it did when talking to Eliwood.
To his surprise, the girl does not break or even flinch at his tone. “I got a ride here to come find you,” she says. “I need a ride back so I can pick up my brother.”
Raven sighs. He knows he’s in a hurry, and arguing with her is not going to help with anything. “Fine. Get in.”
The girl gets into the passenger seat. As he pulls out of the parking lot she says, “Ninian.”
Raven pauses at the stop sign long enough to blink at her. “What?”
“My name. You weren’t going to ask for it, but I thought I would tell you anyway.”
Raven focuses on the the road and ignores her.
He should be used to this. It’s happened plenty of times in the past. He’s picked up Lucius from tutoring or the after school program, or the two have skipped a class to cover for Lucius’s constant health problems. Usually the attacks are short enough that he can hide out for a moment until it passes; occasionally he will tell Raven, who will ditch practice and come find him. This time he gets nothing. At a red light Raven checks his phone, ignoring Ninian’s disapproving look, but it is pointless; there are no missed calls, no text messages, nothing. Lucius really didn’t try to contact him. It leaves two options: either Lucius is still mad at him and chose not to call him, or he can’t. Raven is not sure which option is worse.
He knew things were going to get worse. He knew things were going to go badly. He knew that Lucius was getting worse and worse and he knew too and Raven ignored it. He pushed aside like he does everything. Back when they were kids and Lucius would get sick they would hide, holing themselves up in some small place waiting for the adults to find them and start yelling. Now? Now it is easier to ignore it and just act like nothing is wrong. They can’t let someone see; one well-meaning adult or call to the school could rat them out and ruin everything.
Lost in his thoughts, Raven almost misses the elementary school parking lot. Ninian puts a hand on his arm and he jerks back to reality, swerving the car inside. She braces herself against the car door but does not comment on his reckless driving.
“You’re used to this,” Ninian states.
Raven pulls into a parking space, shoving his phone and keys into the pockets of his jacket. “What the hell are you talking about now?”
“You’re worried, but you are not panicking. You must be used to this.” Ninian follows him out of the car, her jewelry clanging like music as she goes. “I think… your future is dark, but it is not set in stone, not yet. It is still too hard to see.”
“What are you, a fortune teller?”
“Yes.”
Raven pauses briefly to look back at the the girl. “You’re weird,” he says bluntly.
Ninian is unaffected. “Yes.”
(to be continued)
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
24. raven/lucius; fire emblem modern au; 542 words
notes: writing a fanfic is really hard guys. who knew? I’m working on a modern interpretation of lucius and raven’s support line with bonus fluff so here’s a tiny bit of what I’ve been working on my goal is to finish this before dissidia comes out but we’ll see?
I NAMED THIS FANFIC AFTER A KPOP SONG AND I REGRET NOTHING
It is by chance that Raven glances over and sees the girl standing on the side of the field. She does not say anything. She just stands there, waiting, twisting her hands together.
Raven recognizes her, although he does not know her by name. She is not Lyn or any of Lucius’s friends; Raven has seen her around school before but has never spoken to her. She is easily recognizable, with her extremely pale skin and light blue hair.
He is not the only boy to notice her. Raven watches as Eliwood looks away from his conversation with Hector, tilting his head in confusion on the far end of the field; he says something to the teammates that are gathered around him and trots toward her. The girl does not move to meet him; she just stands there, her gaze fixed on the ground, playing with the hem of her blouse. Raven ignores them until he hears someone calling his name.
“Raven!”
Eliwood is waving him over. Raven sighs and jogs to them. “What?” he snaps. The girl stares wide-eyed at his tone of voice and Raven rolls his eyes.
“You’re…” Everything about this girl is soft, even her voice. She glances up at Eliwood for encouragement before continuing, and Raven wants to roll his eyes again. These two are so saccharine it makes him want to vomit. “You’re Lucius’s friend, aren’t you?”
Raven crosses his arms against his chest. He isn’t sure exactly how he should answer the question. Besides, the girl looks like she would burst into tears if he so much as raised his voice too loud. “Why?”
“My brother is an elementary student… he goes to the after school program, the one that your friend works at? He said that Lucius was going home sick, but he never actually went home. He’s still at school. He said he was fine but my brother was still worried… he remembered Lucius talking about you before, so he asked me to come find you.”
Raven swallows down a mouthful of expletives and starts tugging his gear over his head. He can faintly hear Eliwood being sickeningly chivalrous as he thanks the girl, but Raven ignores him and goes to the bench where the guys have thrown all their things. He starts throwing things haphazardly into his duffel bag, and is surprised when Eliwood joins him, picking out his backpack in the mess.
“Is everything all right?” Eliwood asks.
Raven ignores him.
“If you need anything, I’m sure one of us can—”
“Stop,” Raven snaps. Eliwood freezes, one hand still holding his backpack. Raven snatches it from him and throws it up over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I just—”
“Stop it,” Raven repeats. He does not yell at the mayor’s son; his voice is low and quiet. Somehow, this silences him just as much as raising his voice. He ignores the frozen redhead and his further efforts to be annoying and goes to the parking lot. None of the team follow, not even Eliwood. A small crowd of curious teammates have gathered around him at the edge of the field but Raven does not care what they say about him.
(to be continued)
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
23. cloud/zack; kingdom hearts; 925 words
notes: I wrote this the same time I wrote yesterday’s drabble! Boredom and the inability to play video games will do a number on you, lol I guess trigger warnings for blood and also zack swears at the end. this is connected to day 13 (squall/rinoa/cloud), and takes place a bit before it. There’s also probably some time between this piece and that one.
He is bleeding.
At first he does not see it. He cannot see it through the darkness and the smoke. But then the smoke is everywhere, filling his lungs, choking him. He can’t breathe. He tries to cough to get air but nothing works. His body is too tired to try to save him.
He’s faintly aware of someone grabbing him by the arm, pulling him along. His legs do not work at first and they do nothing but drag him, dead weight. But then his body jerks into motion. Suddenly everything works and his nerves scream in pain; he rises unsteadily to his feet, pulls his arm from his savior’s grip, and he runs.
He runs as far as he can. He runs until he cannot run anymore. It is not far, and he is not fast. He stops when he trips on a crack in the street, leaving him sprawled out in the street. At the last moment his guard training kicks in and he remembers not to try to catch himself, lest he break an arm or wrist.
Then he cannot feel anything again. It is so sudden that he is sure that the pain from before was just an illusion. The feeling was not real; nothing is real.
He is bleeding.
As he pulls himself up into a sitting position, he notices the blood on the pavement. He searches for the source and follows it to his arm. Scratches carve his bare skin in a latticework that would be artistic if it wasn’t so grotesque. He is not disgusted though; he does not feel anything. Most of the scratches are small but there are some larger ones, slicing open flesh to drip blood like raindrops to the earth.
Somewhere, in another place, another blond Guard candidate is panicking. Not him, though. He watches the red mix in with the dirt and wonders how there can be so much of it. How much can he bleed?
“Spike!”
A boy runs back to him. He isn’t sure he knows him, because if he did then he would probably be more concerned. A gruesome burn stretches down his neck, into his sweater and over a shoulder. He has scratches, too. To his surprise the boy is panicking; there is terror in his sky-colored eyes, although he can’t figure out why.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry…”
He cannot figure out why the boy is apologizing. He is pretty sure he has never seen him before.
The boy mumbles something and snaps his fingers. Green-white light sparks there and then goes dull. Swearing, the boy again but the results do not change. “Damn,” he mutters. “Come on, bud. We have to go.”
He does not move. It’s not like he is trying to stay still; he just cannot. He is pretty sure that his body does not belong to him. But the boy is undeterred; he stands up and grabs him by the arm, trying to pull him to his feet. He does not stay up on his own; his vision wavers. The boy stands beside him, pulling his arm over his shoulder, hissing in pain when his arm brushes the burn on his neck and shoulder. He does not move it, though, nor does he seem to notice the blood that stains his skin.
“You’re going to have to walk for me, bud,” the boy says softly. There is no panic in his voice. It is calm, direct; it’s only the slightest bit too cheerful, the only giveaway that something might be wrong. He focuses on that voice and on the feeling of his arm over the boy’s shoulders, his body against his. He cannot feel but some part of him, deep down, wants to do what the boy says. He stares at the ground, watching blankly as one leg shakingly steps forward, then the other. Step, step. He’s moving somehow.
“There you go, Spike. You’ve got this,” the boy says as the steps fall into a sort of rhythm. Once he speaks he cannot stop. His voice is loud and overly cheerful, almost too quick to pick up the words. Worried. He is not sure why the boy is panicking, or if there is a reason to be. Maybe he should be panicking himself. He can’t feel anything, though.
“Stay with me, Spike. We’re going to get out of here,” the boys says. “You and me. We’re friends, right? Remember? We just have to keep going.” The boy is rambling now. He watches the boy in mild fascination as he speaks. Never once does he glance over to see if anyone is listening. “We’re in the guard, remember? We’ll go together. I won’t leave you, okay? Come on, Spike, stay with me. I need you to stay awake. You’ve got this, you hear me?”
He tries to nod. He does. Vision flickering, he catches sight of something black from the corner of his eye. Feathers, like an angel’s wing.
He freezes, stopping both of them in the middle of the road.
Memories hit him at full force.
Zack.
Feeling nothing isn’t normal. The blood is not normal. The burns—something is horribly, horribly wrong.
“Zack,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse and it barely makes a sound. He is close enough to Zack’s ear, however, that he does not need the volume. “Zack.”
Suddenly, silence. All he can hear is Zack’s panting and his own rasping, labored breathing.
The beating of a wing.
“Son of a bitch,” Zack breathes.
Then, nothing.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
22. aerith/cloud; kingdom hearts; 685 words
notes: testing at elementary schools is really boring guys save me at least I can daydream fanfic I guess
Darkness clings to Traverse Town and Aerith hates it.
It is suffocating, sometimes. She looks around at the dark city the sun never touches and she wants to scream. That darkness is everywhere, coating her skin, filling her throat. The bright, harsh lights from the hotel and from First District do nothing to help. She rubs the darkness from her arms and shivers against the cold and she wants to scream.
Rinoa bounces from place to place like she does not notice it. Yuffie whines, and Tifa is quiet, pushing a lock of hair behind one ear in a nervous gesture that Aerith knows means that it affects her too. And the boys—well, she can’t expect the boys to say much of anything. Leon does not say much and Cloud says even less. Aerith is sure that she has gone days without hearing the blond say a single word.
When things get to be too much everyone has their own way of coping. For example, Leon disappears. No one has any idea where he goes, not even Rinoa, but he disappears for up to days at a time; he reappears as if nothing has happened, as steely-eyed as ever, healing bruises tracing his arms and his scar stark against his face.
Yuffie gets into trouble; she steals from shops and restaurants and leads the orphans on adventures, angry adults and general mayhem left in her wake. Tifa talks too loud and smiles too much, always more talkative and animated then than when she is normally. Rinoa tries to hide it; it is only when she thinks no one is looking that she allows her smile to droop or the tiredness to show in her eyes. Eventually she disappears as well, off to fight Heartless or spend time with Yuj or Merlin.
Cloud does not hide it. Aerith is starting to think that the gloom that follows him is just a part of his personality. It clings to him like his namesake, constantly overhead, infecting anyone who might get too close.
It makes no sense that a boy that dark would be carrying Zack’s sword.
Aerith knows it. She knows that he knows Zack and she knows that the sword belonged to him. The blade was the only one of its kind back in Hollow Bastion. Many guard gravitated to larger swords, she knows—boys being boys, thinking the best way to fight was through power or something—but few managed to actually keep them as their chosen weapon. Zack was one of the few. He wielded that weapon with pride, kept it with him constantly.
And now Cloud has it.
How would he have it? Aerith met Zack’s friends and she knows that Cloud was not one of them. All of them used smaller weapons, anyway; Aerith remembers watching Zack and Kunsel train, watching Kunsel teasing him as he steadied his much smaller blade in his hands. For a while, when he got the instructor position, Zack talked about one of the boys he was looking after, but the way Zack described him was nothing like the solemn blond Aerith sees.
He is silent, too silent for Aerith to strike up a conversation. His face goes blank when Hollow Bastion is mentioned—and it’s such a touchy subject that no one ever speaks of it anyway, excluding Rinoa—and he likes to pull the disappearing act like Leon does, although he isn’t half as good at it. One of these days Aerith is going to grab him by the shoulders and order him to answer her questions. Who is he? How did he know Zack? Why is he carrying Zack’s sword?
How did he die?
Aerith likes to think that if she knew, everything would be normal. If she could just know then she could move on. Maybe she could even get used to Traverse Town. She could adapt to the city’s darkness if she could just know the answer to that one question.
But Cloud is silent. Aerith is silent. The question hangs in the air.
The darkness chokes her.
She keeps going anyway.
0 notes
saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
21. restoration committee; kingdom hearts; 892 words
notes: I don’t really have any I really want to write this fic I swear
They all go outside. For a moment Tifa wonders if the boys will follow them but they do. Tifa puts on her gloves out of habit and Leon has his Gunblade. Cloud brings his broadsword with him, hoisting the flat of the blade over his shoulder.
“I can help you make a holster for that,” Aerith suggests when they’re all going back to First District.
Cloud blinks.
“I’ve seen—a friend of mine carries a sword that way,” she explains vaguely. “It uses magnets or something, and fastens like this.” She places a hand on Tifa’s back as they walk to demonstrate. “I’m not sure how it works, but we can figure it out.”
He doesn’t speak. Aerith looks at Tifa, her expression confused. She shrugs.
(What is she supposed to say?)
Aerith refuses to let them fall into silence. “So Leon and Rinoa are in the Guard together, and Yuffie used to come to Cid’s shop. And you and Cloud know each other, right?”
Behind them, Cloud almost drops his sword. Tifa jumps at the sound, wondering if she should help him or something.
(From the front of the group, Leon rolls his eyes.)
“We were next door neighbors,” Tifa says quietly.
Aerith is surprised by this. “Neighbors! So you must know each other pretty well, huh?”
She thinks about it for several seconds. (What is she supposed to say?) “…I guess.”
She glances back at Cloud; his eyes are on the ground and do not look at her. It’s a good thing, she supposes. She doesn’t know if she is lying or not.
There are even more people in the First District now. Cid and Leon get caught up talking to some guys outside the accessory shop, but the girls go on to the restaurant. There is a different woman working there now than Tifa remembers, but she greets them warmly and takes the bag from them.
“There’s a general shop just down the street,” she says when Aerith asks. “Should have all your basic supplies. Are you all settled in then?”
“We haven’t really thought about much of anything,” Aerith admits. The restaurant is mostly empty, so she and Tifa take seats at the counter. Yuffie sits at the far end and twirls her chair in circles. Cloud leans up against the wall, balancing his broadsword next to him. “We’ve been staying at that hotel. It’s empty though.”
“You’ve been staying in Second District?” The woman asks. She then explains, “This world’s divided into districts. First, Second, Third, and so on, farther you go. Most everyone stays in the First, but some go to the Second. But that’s where things can get dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Tifa repeats.
“Haven’t you seen the Heartless yet?”
The girls stare at her; even Yuffie stops spinning in her chair. The only sound in the restaurant is the sound of Cloud’s sword scraping the floor as it almost falls over again.
“I imagine you saw them on your own world. The Heartless show up right before the world is consumed by the darkness.”
“You mean those creatures?” Aerith asks.
The woman nods. “The Heartless show up here, but unlike on your world, or mine, they do not destroy it. They are here, though. There aren’t too many in the First District, but out in Second and Third Districts they get thicker. There are other districts too, but no one stays out there because of them.”
“So that’s why nobody is in the hotel, then. Because of the Heartless,” Tifa says.
“Exactly.”
“Does that mean that the hotel is unoccupied?”
“I guess so, but Second District’s not the best place for a bunch of kids to be hanging out.”
Tifa thinks that the woman is talking about Yuffie, but finds her staring straight at her instead. She feels herself straighten in her seat. “We aren’t kids,” Cloud mumbles, the first thing he’s said.
“Honey, on my world, you would be.”
“We’re—” Aerith begins, but a shriek catches their attention, causing them all to look out the restaurant into the plaza. A girl runs past the restaurant entrance, something black on her heels—a black creature, a black Heartless. It pauses in the center of the plaza and turns, looking around with glowing yellow eyes. 
Tifa swears it looks at her. She does not move—she cannot get herself to move, but grips the counter tight. Cloud takes his sword in both hands, and moves to lift it when they hear the familiar sound of gunshots—one, two, three. The Heartless vanishes before Cloud can move.
The girls jump from the counter and go to the plaza to see. They aren’t the only ones: people peer curiously through shop windows and front doors, wondering what is going on. On the staircase at the head of the plaza, Leon scowls, putting his Gunblade away in a sort of holster on his waist. He is unaffected by the stares and the commotion. He doesn’t even look at Cid, who is talking to a man in front of one of the shops.
(The look on his face sends chills down Tifa’s spine.)
“That’s Leon,” Aerith says to the waitress. “He was in the military back on our world.”
“Well, if there was ever a world that needed a soldier, it’s this one,”
0 notes