Midlife Crisis 3

Tifa met me at the door to Seventh Heaven. “That explosion. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Letters: Unspoken

Neither one of them spoke, as if asking would jinx it. Words and sentences would mean thinking about what was happening. Better to just go with it.

Cloud’s hands were in Vincent’s hair, tightly tangled, but the taller man didn’t care. His attention was on Cloud’s lips and neck, how smooth the skin was.

This wasn’t about beds or clothes, it was too insistent for that. Both stayed quiet aside from the occasional moan, worried about what name might slip.

They dozed afterward, before Vincent startled awake and Cloud was jarred to consciousness. They looked at each other.

“Now what?”

Vacation

“Next time I take a vacation, I’m going alone,” Hojo grumbled. He was sitting on the narrow bench in the Gold Saucer holding cell and considering the logistics of releasing an airborne mutagen to make them all suffer.

“You’d have to quit before they let you, old man.” Reno laughed, sitting on the floor.

“That’s sounding better by the minute.”

The Turk snorted. “Tseng’ll be here soon, yo. Don’t freak out.”

“Freak out? I’m not the one who started the fight.”

“Fucker deserved it.”

“Who deserved what?” Tseng spoke quietly, “And why are you in jail?”

“Funny story, that…”

for Drakon

Letters: Training Exercise

“Don’t miss, pretty boy.”

“Don’t distract me.”

“You have to learn how to work under stress.”

“The entire point of sniping is that I’m way up here, away from anything that could possibly distract me except for a few amorous pigeons.”

“And yet distractions keep coming. Me, for instance. Or that woman in the skimpy bikini behind the target–”

“You looked at a woman?”

“Valentine, shut up and look at the target.”

“I am looking at the target.”

“Then where did he go?”

“Shit!” Vincent snapped to attention, straining at the eyepiece.

“Northwest,” Veld offered.

“Don’t distract me.”

Nothing

It was quiet here. Peaceful, almost. Squall could appreciate that. After the fighting, the yelling, that indescribable noise at the end- he hadn’t even known what it was, only that it stopped, and the silence was its own kind of noise.

He started walking, having nothing better to do, and wondered where Ultimecia had flung him. Nothing changed. He kept walking anyway. It was better than doing nothing. Time slid away from him.

Rinoa’s not coming, he thought, and was surprised. He hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for her.

Squall sat down, waiting. Nothing would catch up with him eventually.

Messages

Before the child was born, Cecil sent word to Kain on Mount Ordeals. The messenger returned the day Ceodore was born. Kain said he would follow.

They made plans for his presentation as heir. Rosa set one date, then another. Cecil kept asking to wait. Surely Kain was coming. They just needed to give him time. Finally, he sent out another messenger.

This one returning bearing a letter.

“I’m sorry.”

Cecil carried his young son out the next day, a message of hope to rebuilt Baron, but despite the crowds and Rosa’s gentle presence behind him, he felt alone.

This drabble first appeared in Phoenix Down Monthly.

Letters: Wake Up Call

Dear Cloud,

I know it’s bad form to leave someone to wake up alone. I hope you will understand why I couldn’t stay and tell you in person. I’m really not very good with confrontations that don’t end in gunshots.

Letters: Sunday

The first shot wasn’t so bad. It made me vomit until I shook, but no big deal. Lucrecia held my hair while I was sick, and took the sample for my father.

The second and third samples were in the mail before we heard back. That week, I went in with Dad’s orders to try to get Gast to talk about what he was doing.

Letters: Everyone Says Hi

Dear Vinny,

Everyone says hi. I hope Shinra’s treating you okay.

Letters: Afraid

“I wish I was smarter.”

“Stop it, Vin,” she tells me.