kh_drabble | Challenge [261] Entry

Title: No Direction Do I See
challenge: [261] Disobey
Word Count: 597, after much addition and subtraction and perhaps a bit of square-rooting.
Notes: procrastination, thou name be Ana. Also, set shortly after the fall of Hollow Bastion, incase I didn’t make that clear (which is quite possibly the case)

There are two notes on the table. The first one, slightly crumpled and torn at the edges from a day of passing between hands, is written in Cloud’s messy script: Don’t come after me. This has already been the source of grief, studied over twenty four hours as if a secret message could be uncovered in the terse four words.

The second one is new, scrawled on the back of a napkin and held down with a half empty glass of water. The condensation has caused some of the letters to blur, but over-all it remains legible and says, quite simply: Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon! Tifa’s boundless optimism bleeding through the short missive.

They race to where the Gummi Ship should be, already feeling the inevitable in their hearts.

It’s gone, nothing but a slight silhouette of it remains in the crushed grass. There is a moment of stunned silence while the four left behind try to absorb what their eyes see. It’s almost like a fairy tale, the way their friends simply disappeared in the middle of the night. Aerith tries to pretend that’s what happened. One friend transformed into a (demon) frog and the other chasing after, a warped form of true love’s kiss presented in stubbornness and open-hearted affection.

Cid breaks the reverie. He lights up a cigarette and swears loudly at the sky, employing every inappropriate word he knows and then some. Yuffie watches him with a grotesque kind of hero worship lighting her eyes. The part of Aerith that isn’t torn in pieces over this latest development makes a mental note to invest in a lot of soap for the inevitable punishments she’ll have to dish out to the younger girl.

Squall has become very well versed at saying nothing. He squares his shoulders and marches back to the temporary shelter they’ve begun to call home, wordless as always. Aerith watches him go with half an eye, wishing to herself that he’d do something; get angry or sad or laugh at the stars because, really, this was just par for the course, wasn’t it?

Yuffie tugs at Aerith’s hand, turning star-bright eyes upward. “Tifa went after Cloud, didn’t she?”

Aerith scoops the younger girl up, settling her on her hip. Yuffie’s almost too big to be treated like this, but Aerith intends to help keep her childhood intact as long as possible. “Looks like.”

Yuffie is digesting the situation, staring in wonder at the sky. “But Cloud told us not to.”

“Well, yes, he did.” Aerith shifts to find a better grip on Yuffie.

“Then why didn’t she listen?”

They watch as Cid degrades to throwing rocks about in an effort to vent his frustration. Aerith lets the silence lapse for a long moment while she considered her words.

“Sometimes,” she says, “that’s what friends do. Sometimes you end up loving someone so much that you can’t sit by while they hurt, and so you don’t listen to what they say.”

“Why didn’t Tifa take us with her then? We all love Cloud.” Yuffie yawns, resting her head on Aerith’s shoulder. They turn to the shared apartment, leaving Cid to voice his displeasure at the empty night sky alone. He’ll get tired and Aerith thinks all this fuss calls for a nice pot of hot soup. Nothing does the soul better than a bowl of warm food.

She stops outside the door, admitting the truth that Squall and Cid are over-looking in their initial frustration; “Because, we need to be the home for them to come back to.”