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Ties that Bind and Tear Apart	By : wickedorin Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 619 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of
Ties
that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005,
as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in
there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea
of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The
names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer
Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million
other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora,
Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others
are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten.
I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?

        Background: Same Kyrie and
same universe as, in order, *deep breath* The Sins of Two Fathers,
Retribution
Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and
Fool's Journey.
I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and
Make
'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense...
but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one
late, late night. (And I still hate you. *grin*) It's set a
few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.

        Possible WARNINGS:
You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible"
weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not
part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing
with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read anything
of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get
dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written
well before any plot detail on Kingdom Hearts 2 came out, so...
yeah.

        GREAT BIG STORY-RELATED
NOTE: A lot of of this story was "planned" (as much as I can
plan anything with Kyrie) well before Kingdom Hearts 2 came out.
At this point, I've almost completely spoiled myself as to plot points
of the game (yay spoilers!)... but I'm rather planning to stay with the
original direction this story was going in, in the first place. Therefore,
there will be references to Kingdom Hearts 2, but... generally
don't worry about me spoiling anything for you. I guess that makes
this AU. Dammit.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart

Chapter 8

By Orin Drake
        A rare uncomfortable silence
encompassed the room. Kyrie found herself unable to make eye contact
as she searched for a reason, for an answer to why she'd
known Rufus' name, let alone details... That's what got to
her. Just a name, or even the fact that he had a big cat as a pet,
wouldn't have bothered her half as much as...

        She shook her head, but
the image wouldn't leave. A young blonde in a white suit, standing
on what could only be Shin-Ra grounds... she could see him when
she closed her eyes, his smirk. The way he flipped his hair back
with an arrogant twinkle in his eye. She could even hear his
voice at the very vague border of her senses.

        There was no way
she should know any of that. No explanation. Even that
short time of seeing Sephiroth's memory hadn't yielded a thing like that...

        Vincent saw her reaching
frantically for an answer. He wanted to offer help, a comfort of
some kind... but he was unable. It had thrown him just as much as
it had her... if not more. Problem being... he was finding
small bits of his own memory returning due to her words... and he wasn't
sure he liked it.

        "We should be going home."
She murmured, her voice barely audible. She might not understand
what was going on... but she knew enough about Vincent's silence.
She didn't give him so much as a chance to respond; turning, she hit the
unlock quickly with her thumb and fled. Maybe it was not a retreat
so much as an attempt to save them both memories better off left behind--but
she was in no frame of mind to figure it out.

        He had every intention of
stopping her, calling after or following... but he didn't. He couldn't.
Fist clenched helplessly at his side, he let her go.

        She wasn't surprised to find
John and Rodger in the same abandoned office she'd left them in.
In any other circumstance, they'd have been skipping off with plenty of
entertainment to be had at everyone else's expense; but the normal circumstances
did not apply.

        Maybe they could sense her
self-imposed numbness the moment she walked in the door--and maybe that
was why they didn't immediately rush to greet her. "He doesn't know,
either." She announced, wincing internally at how... hollow her tone
suddenly seemed. It wasn't that big of a deal... was it?

        That was not something her
husband could ignore. "You okay, Ky?"

        "Yeah. Yeah, sure.
Considering." It wasn't a lie. It wasn't even a half-truth.
She felt a little too lost in confusion to give much thought to trying
to hide anything, firstly.

        John opened his mouth to
make a slightly less than cordial demand for an answer--until Rodger bolted
past him with a glance that effectively silenced the half-devil.
Whatever this was, she'd tell them when she could. They really had
to believe that. The brunette stepped up to his wife and gave her
shoulders a casual squeeze. "What now?"

        And then it hit her, what
would make her feel better. "I thought I told you two to get some
food, dammit."

        Past lunch time and still
without anyone to give him an excuse to leave his shop, Cloud gave a bored
mumble to the back wall he'd just rearranged for the change in season.
His ringing cell was a particular blessing, especially with Vincent's name
on the caller ID screen. That one never failed to be entertaining.
"Everyone is late." He greeted, already heading to the front to temporarily
close up.

        "There is a reason."
Vincent assured quietly. "I believe you could..." He trailed
off for lack of exactly what he was asking. "I think you should talk
to her and try to find out what's going on."

        The other participant in
the conversation very nearly pulled the phone away from his ear to stare
at it. Clearly there was no doubt who the "her" was--it was practically
Kyrie's official code name. "Why didn't you talk to her?"

        "I... I couldn't... I didn't
want to..." A sigh. "I don't know, Cloud."

        The blonde was on the other
end of the phone in shock. Vincent never stammered... he never paused
without meaning to. This was... odd. Odd even before frightening.
"What do you think I can do about this..?"

        It was a decent question;
one he'd been wrestling with himself for the minutes before finally giving
in and calling. "I'm not sure. But I believe... you would be
of more help to her than I would."

        "I'll come up with something,
then." He promised. Vincent hung up promptly... but he found
his own hand shaking a little as he flipped his phone shut. Something...
something very bad was happening.

        They ventured in silence
toward the station--but not with the intent of catching a train.
That seemed the furthest thing from Kyrie's mind as she gestured toward
one of the smaller food vendors, one with most excellent Galbadian sandwiches
and pastries for a much better deal than one could get in Galbadia... at
least, that's what the kind older gentleman behind the counter always told
them.

        Upon finding an out-of-the-way
bench upon which to try and fill their already heavy stomachs, there was
again a stretch of silence. Neither boy questioned why she didn't
quite seem to want to go back to the house right away. Neither did
Kyrie herself, really. It just... wasn't the direction she felt that
she wanted to go in. For once, a speechless, nearly thoughtless moment
seemed most appropriate.

        Even Kyrie had to admit,
however... it didn't feel quite right. They were never that
sort of silent with one another... least of all her. Something beyond
her understanding had caused a rift; not between herself and Vincent, but
between herself and... everything else.

        She was not hungry.
She wasn't the least bit interested in food. But she didn't know
when her body would next need the store of energy. Even though her
Materia felt fine, her body rested... the very idea of what was illusion
and what was reality wasn't one she wanted to think on.

        It didn't matter.
One sitting at each side, her sentinels guarded her instinctually.
Caring nothing for who might be gawking into the shadows, they found themselves
each with an arm around her, waiting. Waiting for... whatever they
were supposed to be waiting for.

        "I came up with a solution."
Cloud announced, stepping inside Vincent's office uninvited.

        At least that raised the
former Turk's spirits a bit... not that he'd admit so. The bright
blue Mako eyes held more devious mirth than concern. "And that would
be..?"

        "I'll take her out on my
new bike." He announced, somewhat proud of himself.

        There was a long, long pause
from the raven-haired man. "And why, exactly, are you so willing
to risk her life on that... thing?"

        He huffed humorously with
Vincent's apparent insistence that his life was less important and
therefore not worth worrying about. "She hasn't gotten to ride it
yet." He hadn't realized just how amusing the statement was until
after it had come out of his mouth. "Besides... she could use the
chance to forget for a little while."

        It was the unspoken portion
that made the man react, not bothering at all to hide his responding grin.
He knew Cloud better than that; he was far from a perfect gentleman, but
he was trusted enough. Besides... if push came to shove, Vincent
always had blackmail. "Be careful." He gave his permission
to the insane notion. Truth be told... it wasn't such a bad idea.

        There was a collective breath
held as the Jet they normally took on the way back to the house pulled
into the station... and by then a little of Kyrie's weighted stomach had
abated. "Something tells me I shouldn't leave yet." Was all
she offered. It was all she knew, and even then... even then,
the thought of going back into that house, knowing how easily Riku could
find her...

        But that wasn't fair.
Not really. He'd asked for her help, and she'd accepted. Then...
what had happened afterward? Certainly they hadn't actually accomplished...
anything. That was the maddening part... something had happened
before they'd gotten the chance to... to make anything...

        And then John caught unmistakable
spikes of blonde hair in the corner of his eye. Granted Cloud was
walking from the other end of the station and it would take a moment to
reach them, but that was all the more reason to act fast. Yes, bad
shit was going on. And yes, questions needed answers before they
became maddening... but they were back. And that crazy blonde was
still in on Kyrie's "big birthday celebration". The one that wasn't
happening, that they absolutely were not planning for.

        Rodger felt the almost imperceptible
tap on his forearm, immediately getting the indication that he shouldn't
make a big deal out of looking in the direction John seemed as if he were
trying to avoid. He couldn't see anything at first, not having the
half-devil's incredible vision--but then Cloud was pretty hard to miss
as he passed a number of people and came into the open. Just as he
was about to try and come up with a plan to divert his wife's attention,
John seemed keen to play the asshole.

        "Would you go get me a drink?"
he asked Kyrie in the sweetest possible voice, leaning up against her.
"Please?"

        Obviously... something was
up. Not that she wasn't completely willing to play along to take
her mind off of things. "Your legs broken there, devil-boy?"

        "Not yet." He continued
to use his sweet voice, rubbing up against her like a cat and earning a
shaking head from Rodger.

        "They will be." She
promised teasingly.

        "But after you get
me a drink?" John had just about mastered those great big blue puppy dog
eyes...

        "Fine." Kyrie sighed.
"Just... stop doing that. It's creepy. What do you want?"

        Creepy, huh? Well,
just for that. "Lemonade." The innocence fell into a grin.

        She stared blankly at him
for several seconds. "You do realize that's about five trains down
from us right now."

        "It's not that far."
He went right back into his innocent sweetness routine, almost making himself
choke.

        "You bastard." She
accused, unable to help an amused smirk. Turning to Rodger, she shrugged.
"And I suppose you want something on the other side of the station?"

        "Nah." He dismissed
lightly. "Not until you get back. Then I'll have thought of
what you should have gotten me."

        With a light smack to the
back of both of her boys' heads, she got up and began walking. Yeah,
sure. Like it was any secret Cloud was present. She could feel
it when he was in the same roo--

        That was when she forced
her thought process to stop. If she went any further, if she'd allowed
her brain to finish, she'd have had to admit to... too much. Too
much of the past, too many memories. And too many Jenova cells.
Lemonade. The world could be lemonade for a while.

        Cloud watched Kyrie walk
off long before he'd gotten over to the pair looking at him with mildly
amused expressions. He didn't really require an explanation for...
well, anything. Not anymore. He thought he might as well come
right out with the idea. "Would you two mind if I borrowed her for
a couple of hours?"

        The boys looked at each
other with an astounding supply of unspoken jokes. John was lucky
enough to have been the one to compose himself first; enough to respond,
anyway. "Depends on how she's coming back."

        Rodger gave him an elbow
jab, chuckling darkly. "Hey, if it's a couple of hours."

        Cloud smirked. "I
thought it might be a good time to drop my birthday gift on her."

        Ah. The brunette nodded
thoughtfully. Not a bad idea. "Hopefully it'll fit, then."

        Kyrie returned far
earlier than expected with a lemonade in each hand--just in case.
Coming upon the three so obviously "not talking about her", she tried her
best not to pay any attention. Wordlessly handing off John's requested
beverage (to which she got the super-sweet grin again) and then the same
to Rodger if only to keep him on the same sugar level so as not to give
either one of them an advantage over the other in terms of hyperness, she
then turned to Cloud. In a kind of flat sarcasm only she seemed capable
of, she remarked, "Had I only known you were coming, I'd have gotten you
one, too."

        He shook his head, trying
not to let his lips betray his amusement. "Would you like to step
out for a little while?"

        The shock of the question
gave her a mild pause--but her natural tendency to tease him overcame it
quickly. "With who?"

        His eyes narrowed in humor.
"With an attractive blonde."

        "Oh, hell, sure! Where?"
she made a distinct show of looking around like an over-excited puppy for
said blonde.

        "Just follow me, alright?"
he gave up with a smile and a sigh.

        She gave a glance back to
Rodger and John, as if to ask if that was alright... or, more, if she would
be safe and not suddenly pounced with too-early birthday bullshit.
The two of them gave her smiles and waves... which told her only that it
was alright, but nothing in the way of what awful surprises to expect.
"Catch you two soon, then." She promised, a little more sincerely
than usual. "I'm gonna get me a hot blonde... somewhere."

        Cloud's overdramatic sigh
almost echoed off the high ceiling. That's how she knew everything
was okay.

        After a few minutes of walking
down a hallway that even she didn't think she'd used before, she couldn't
keep the curiosity to herself. "So... where would you happen to be
leading me?"

        "Just... out, for a little
while." He posed, false innocence continuing.

        She was more than willing
to play along. At least she knew she was assured to be entertained.
Of course, that didn't mean she had to be quiet about it. "There
are no poles or table dances involved, right?"

        He rolled his eyes, actually
trying not to laugh at the completely unexpected question. "Fine.
How about a ride on that motorcycle I found parked in the hallway, outside
my door a few months ago?"

        ...Ooooooohhhh.
That was certainly beyond her expectations. "Really?"

        He couldn't help a chuckle
at what sounded like contained excitement. Half of his mission--to
draw her out of her thoughts and allow her to relax for the barest moment--was
already successful. "Well, you did buy it for me. I though
you might appreciate a little run out in the plains."

        "Hyne would I." She
admitted instantly. "I don't think I have quite the appropriate wardrobe,
however..." she trailed off more due to his change in expression than an
actual end to her thoughts. What did that satisfied smirk mean..?

        "I came into possession
of a leather ensemble that may fit." He announced as innocently as
he could.

        Oh, that... wonderful bastard.
Although... "Yeah, but... who wore it before me and why?"

        That was a good question
to ask. "Alright, fine. Happy Birthday." He relented,
assuring her that it wasn't a second-hand piece of clothing.

        They walked on, Kyrie finding
herself extremely grateful... for a number of reasons. Well, hey.
Leathers. She could give John a run for his money. The thought
barely allowed her to control a dark string of laughter just before Cloud
came to a halt in front of what looked to be the last office door before
an exit.

        "It's in there." He
informed her. "Get changed and we'll go."

        She threw him an all too
cocky (not to mention sloppy) salute, then darted into the office without
a word. Oh hell yes.

        The blonde only shook his
head. Never in his life did he think he would be saluted.
Only Kyrie had that audacity... Kyrie and Zack.

        That thought left him numb
and wide-eyed for quite a bit longer than he cared to understand.
It's not as if he hadn't thought them similar in pure, brutal cockiness
from time to time, but... it was... different, this time.
It was in trying to figure out how it felt different that he got
caught, unable to make the sense necessary to understand... anything.

        He became instantly grateful
when Kyrie emerged from the office; the first reason being that he got
what was sure to be an entertaining interruption to his thought process.
The second being... more unexpected. He never could say that he'd
considered her a sexual object. Not that he didn't see her attraction,
but... it was never like that. In that leather number, though...
he knew at least someone else would be unable to deny appreciation.

        She seemed to be thinking
the exact same thing with the sparkling (and somewhat diabolical) expression
on her face. The office was another unused, generally unfurnished
room... except for the full-length mirror, which she suspected Cloud to
have likely put there himself if only for the little present unveiling.
If anything would wipe that dark look of bored superiority off of Vincent's
face, it was the black leather ensemble she'd gratefully received.
Not that the other males in her life wouldn't appreciate it as well...
not that she didn't appreciate it. The leather jeans were
surprisingly soft, hugging her legs but not cutting off circulation, allowing
her to quite easily secure Eleison's sheath to her thigh. The jacket
was her favorite part, though--form-fitting, one zip up the front, and
lots of buckles. She must have inherited Squall's unspoken adoration
for buckles. And, very tastefully, a small red Bloodcross rested
on the right shoulder. "This is very kick-ass, Cloud."

        Now there was a proper thank
you. "I'm glad you approve."

        There was definitely a different
feeling on the back of an incredibly fast bike than there was sitting on
a train and watching the landscape flash by. Even the Jet's superior
speed paled; though that was likely because one couldn't feel the wind
threatening to rip one's face apart if a slightly higher speed were reached.

        Not that she could find
it in herself to complain. The experience of riding across the somewhat
barren landscape of the Esthar continent was a miraculous and joyful thing.
She was also quite glad that Cloud obviously knew how to handle the machine;
as much as he enjoyed feeling her arms tense around him when he made jumps,
quick changes in direction and skidding stops, he never actually scared
her or made it difficult to hold on--something she was quite glad about.

        It was a damned good thrill
for him, too. He hadn't had a decent bike in... well, centuries,
he supposed. (Give or take, due to memory.) He finally stopped
the roaring beast in the shade of a small cliffside to take a moment's
break from dust and engine noise, liking the sound of it powering down
almost as much as he enjoyed the smooth starting growl. "This was
a very good gift." He called behind him, ears taking their sweet
time to adjust to the sudden silence.

        "Yes, it was." She
agreed, wondering if she'd ever get used to stillness again. That,
and whether or not it was safe to finally untangle her hands from around
his waist. "One good turn and all that."

        He laughed, recalling exactly
why he was pretty certain he'd received such a gift in the first place:
that red collar John never seemed to be without. Exactly what
had transpired between that first meeting and taking note of how reserved
the boy was, and several days later when he walked around like he seemed
to own the place... well, he didn't need to know. But it involved
that collar for certain. He waited until she withdrew her hands,
able to sit back and enjoy the solid earth beneath for a few moments, before
he dropped the kickstand and dismounted.

        There was nowhere to go.
There was no one watching. It was only them, their friendship...
and his other "mission". He unceremoniously sat on the dusty ground
in the shade, leaning up against the bike to stare out at the landscape.
To see Esthar so far away was actually a little... comforting. It
reminded him of the rest of the world without leading him into the panic
of having to save it. He started speaking without really knowing
what he was going to say. "I'm not sure exactly where Midgar used
to be... but it looked a lot better from a distance. Not that that's
saying much."

        Midgar... She
recognized the name from memories not of her own. As she climbed
off the bike and sat beside him, flashes of a dark, desolate, filthy city
came to mind; completely opposed to the bright and clean futuristic visage
of Esthar.

        He watched her carefully
from the corner of his eye as she looked out over the landscape.
Slightly haunted was the only way he could have described her eyes... but
then, they'd always been that way. It almost made him decide not
to go through with Vincent's request to discover what was wrong.

        She knew, though.
She'd known the whole time; this wasn't just a ride for fun. "What
do you want to know?"

        Straight to the heart of
the matter, as usual. It didn't come as entirely unexpected, to put
it lightly--something that made his lips quirk the slightest bit.
"I don't know what to ask." He admitted. Unmasked honesty only
deserved more of the same.

        "Neither do I." She
bit back a sigh at the extreme amount of knowledge she seemed to lack.
About anything. Everything. Always.

        He turned slightly, watching
even more closely. "What are you searching for?" he tried
another tactic.

        Her smile was necessarily
harsh... bitter, maybe... but it was not to last. "I'd like to say
peace of mind... but I'm not sure about that."

        "Good answer." He
relented.

        She chuckled at his response,
somehow feeling incredibly glad to be alone with him, out in the middle
of nowhere. "Where are those carefree days, huh?"

        It was gentle and sing-song,
the way she'd asked... but he was pretty sure he knew better. He
could point out those "carefree days" for himself; with a decent idea of
similar experiences involved.

        Fifteen... when all was
different and innocent. For all of them... but mostly for the two
of them. Yes, life was a little lonely... closed off... but still
innocent. Not being part of... all this shit...

        It wasn't hard at all to
tell that she was reigning her emotions in. Probably thinking the
same thing he was... maybe worse. He'd spent a lot of time simply
trying to keep her as a casual acquaintance, at arm's length... but, having
been around her for so long, he'd taken a liking to her.

        And then... he'd noticed
things. Parallel things. Resemblances. Not exact, of
course, but... close enough. The essence of these things were the
same. She was a lot stronger than he'd been... but she'd been through
quite a bit more in some senses, with her mind... somewhat in tact.
Enough.

        She had a bit of Tifa's
essence in her, too. Though Tifa could grate on nerves when her will
was strong, Kyrie cut straight through the nerves and into the bone.
Never saw her coming. That much was amusing; Tifa made a show of
making absolutely certain everyone saw her coming. They just didn't
happen to know she was a thousand times more powerful than she looked.
Kyrie bothered with very little show, managing an ample amount of power.

        Vincent wasn't the only
one to have noticed that she had a Turk's audacity to her, either.
A little more conscience, perhaps, but nothing was to stand in her way.
It was simply not to be tolerated.

        Cloud shook his head, realizing
he hadn't responded--too lost in his own mind as used to be the case far
too often. At least he'd gotten a little better about it. "Was
being oblivious better than knowing too much?" he wondered out loud...
immediately unsure of whether or not he was just hurting the situation.

        What was it like, she wondered...
when almost everything you've ever known and loved was gone? She
didn't want an answer, though. And she sure as hell didn't wish to
ask. She decided she liked his question a lot better. "I can
honestly say that I don't know." She began, unconsciously pulling
her arms up and around her torso with what seemed to be a change in temperature.
"What about knowing your own thoughts and intentions but not letting anyone
else in on it?"

        He really couldn't help
but feel a little... shut out all of a sudden. Maybe she hadn't meant
it that way... in fact, it was highly unlikely she'd meant to shove and
seemingly keep him away like that, but... hm. It reminded him of
another he just happened to still see every day. And he certainly
had never stopped trying to crack that bastard's shell...
He grinned with a little bit of Zack still haunting his thoughts--he'd
never have let an opportunity to find out far too much about anything
go to waste. "Why keep it so close? Why not spread the burden
on the willing so it's not so much weight?"

        "You all talk behind my
back a lot more often than I'd assumed." She teased... for lack of
a desire to give him a straight answer.

        "Ky, please." His
tone changed. It wasn't begging... and maybe it wasn't quite asking...
but it was soft and too heartfelt to ignore. "Tell me what I can
do to help you. There has to be something."

        She did his request proper
justice by honestly taking a long moment to think about it. The answer
formed without her having to spend time calling upon it. "I think...
what I need... are memories."

        The moment before the answer
had given up no more satisfying information than the moment after... but
then, maybe... "Reaching for the past?"

        It was hard to say, really.
The term wasn't quite right, but... she didn't have a better one.
"Something like that."

        "Specifics?"

        "Not... not to me, no.
More like... whatever seems important enough to talk about. I think."
She shook her head, frustrated by her own words. "I don't know.
I don't know anything."

        That, too, reminded him
of Zack... only his old friend used to say it in a manner that was both
maddening and made it impossible not to grin back at him. He sighed
quietly, mostly to himself. "I'm lost in situations like this."

        "Me, too." She seemed
to think for a bit on serious matters... right up until a sarcastic smile
etched itself onto her features. "But then, I think I'm generally
pretty lost."

        "Price of living..." Cloud
responded quietly, trying to remember where he'd heard that. It was
so long ago...

        "They all fall away in the
end, don't they..." Her voice became a whisper. "Even if you
never got the chance to hold on in the first place..."

        He could not leave
the subject like that. Couldn't let her believe it was all so hopeless...
even if he knew what she was talking about. Even if things
with Zack and Sephiroth hadn't... worked out... "It wasn't... their
fault." He admitted. "They never knew how I felt. I didn't
even know." He sighed, shaking his head. "If I'd only... said
something..."

        There was a tragic romanticism
there, to be sure. Regret, too... so much regret... She closed
her eyes against the onslaught of it--for another short moment her arms
felt cold and she wrapped them tighter around herself in the slight breeze
of the day. The thought hurt... the pain in his voice hurt, as well.
"They've got to know now. In some respect, anyway."

        He nodded, uncertain but
hopeful. And then... he released the bigger bombshell. "I think,
maybe... you'd want to go after more memories than mine."

        Well, that was intriguing.
There was only one person he could mean. "Vincent..?"

        "He's got a lot of regrets
that I really don't think you know about. I'm not even sure if I
do." He looked away for a moment, wondering... but then he assumed
she already knew what he was about to tell her. "He tries very hard
not to let anyone know what he remembers."

        She swallowed, suddenly
more uncomfortable than she thought she should be. Was that why Vincent
had behaved like a startled animal in the path of an oncoming train earlier..?
Did she call out some of the memories he thought the rest of the world
had no right to see? The sorrow that clutched at her was unexpected...
but not unfamiliar. It felt like a... lost thing. Something
that she didn't even know she had before she lost it. Certainly she
knew better--there was time to delve into the ex-Turk's memories if only
he'd let her in, but... the sorrow remained. Maybe it was to be expected,
dealing with Cloud's bittersweet memories... She spoke without expecting
to. "They're all... 'at peace'... and still..."

        "Memory never rests."
He responded quietly, knowing she'd understand. There was always
the eternal question of "what if"... or the guilt... or that horrifying
combination of the two, mixed with worsening nightmare images...
He could only let himself be so much at peace with everything he'd ever
done. Truth was, really... he didn't even remember all of
the things he'd done. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.
It would be nicer, that way.

        She gave a mild nod, staring
longingly at the city... and not trusting her voice. Overwhelming
emotion poured from Sora's heart from what seemed to be a great distance...
and she could do nothing but distantly experience those silent sobs of
longing. For the island flashing at the edges of her vision... for
home... for Riku... for peace. Peace and safety and stillness.
There was no comfort she could offer a memory... didn't seem much she could
do for a piece of heart she held that wasn't her own.

        Specifics were unknown...
and in that sense, maybe it was a mission failed. But... Cloud had
discovered enough. When she was ready... she'd find what she needed.
He had to believe she'd come to him if she needed to. "Come on."
He invited as if he didn't absolutely know an extra weight had just settled
on her shoulders. "Let's get back."

        The ride back was mercifully
long, spectacularly fast--and almost heart-stopping at moments. But
that was pretty much everything she'd wanted out of it. Maybe not
to forget, but to have a pleasant distraction... it was nice. And
it struck her that Cloud was immensely kind for having done so much by
so little effort. It was almost too bad that she'd already bought
him a bike.

        They finally skidded to
an impressively short stop just outside one of the palace entrances in
the back--one best known amongst employees directly under the president
as the G.Q.L.R.A. Door, for "Get out Quick, Laguna's Rambling Again".
The jumble of letters whispered and shouted back and forth as a joke was
completely lost on new employees and interns... but not for long.

        Regardless of having come
to a definitively complete stop, Kyrie found her hands had decided it was
in their best interest to continue to hold on. Cloud chuckled after
a moment and helped her untangle her fingers--grasping her hand as she
moved to dismount. He couldn't just... let her go. He couldn't
leave her with so much... to deal with so much...

        But she was already preparing
herself to go back into battle. Obviously, things were not over.
She had no doubt in her mind that at that very moment, Riku was seeking
her out... and she would not run. The Keyblade was a new weapon that
she hardly knew... but Sora knew it. She grasped his hand back in
turn, giving it a mild squeeze. "Thanks, Cloud. I needed that."

        He was glad that she was
behind him, if only so she couldn't see he was smiling appreciatively.
He couldn't very well outright tell her how much she reminded him of himself.
Regardless, however... "Be careful."

        "I will." She knew
it to have been a stupid thing to say, but...

        He shook his head, breaking
the oncoming mood entirely. "If you would just... walk into Vincent's
office, first thing..."

        That raised red flags and
eyebrows. "Not that I won't, of course... but, why do you insist
on it now?"

        Once again he was painfully
glad that she couldn't see his expression. "I would like to see his
reaction."

        So would I.
"Sure." She agreed. "But then I've got to change. I keep
creaking
in all this leather."

        The unnecessary knock at
Vincent's door was familiar; Cloud's knock, when he felt like trying to
make himself a nuisance. Albeit a welcome nuisance. This game
did require a move on his part, however. "Enter." What walked
in... was certainly not Cloud.

        Being told of the gift of
leathers for Kyrie was one thing... but having been surprised by her (and
them)
in person was quite another. She'd never quite seen that expression
on his face before, lips slightly apart and shaped in a tragically revealing
"O". Yes... she could enjoy wielding that much power... It
was certainly inviting more dirty tricks onto their battlefield.
"Alive and in one piece." She informed him as innocently as possible.

        Cloud was holding his breath
in the doorway, desperately biting at his tongue. If he laughed,
if he so much as cracked a smile or made a noise... it was all over.

        "I can see that."
Vincent seemed to have finally retrieved his voice, trying for annoyance
at being interrupted.

        "Just wanted to make sure
no one got into trouble." She dismissed in an almost believable lie,
wandering out as casually as ever.

        It was a perfect performance.
Cloud was one swift second from completing his own when his name was spoken
softly--with all the meaning of an order from a god. Somehow he held
himself back from sighing with defeat before turning back and stepping
inside the office.

        "Is that your doing?" the
ex-Turk man feigned something that may have been meant to be indifference.

        It took everything the blonde
had in him not to grin like a maniac. "You didn't expect me to let
her on a bike without protection..."

        Another amused look passed
between them. They really had been spending too much time together
recently... "Was there a specific reason it looks like it's
been tailor made to her body, specifically?" Vincent managed to
be more and less vague at once.

        "It was a birthday gift."
He dodged, somewhat successfully.

        That's all he needed to
know. He supposed it really was that obvious... "Go
back to your shop, Cloud."

        Kyrie whistled to herself
down the hallway, feeling absolutely no rush in finding the room with her
old clothes. Yes, the damn outfit creaked and it drove her
nuts,
but... it still felt kinda nice. That, and she just couldn't get
the expression on Vincent's face out of her head. It went so very
many steps beyond merely amusing...

        Ah. Should have
known. Not that far down from Laguna's office rested a particular
white-haired half-devil, in the middle of building a tower out of little
paper cups in one of the coffee nooks. He was actually rather successful,
too... though she hated to think of how many of the other coffee nooks
he'd invaded to get quite so many cups. Kiros was going to have several
caniptions.

        John would have heard her
coming earlier had he not been concentrating quite so hard on his astounding
creation. As it was, though, he began to greet her before he turned.
"Hey! I thought you were--fuck."

        "I feel like I am, yes."
She joked, spinning around to model the leathers. "Only now do I
understand your obsession."

        He... was... glad.
Really glad. Cloud had done very well in his selection. He
chuckled to himself with that thought, drawing a finger over the red leather
collar. Of course, he'd had nothing to worry about. He was
just about to give Rodger a shout when the brunette appeared around the
corner of a connecting hallway, Kyrie definitely just out of sight.
Oh, this would be sweet.

        She took note of John's
expression, watching the other hall--and got the gist immediately.
Ah, wonderful. If she did a good job surprising her husband, maybe
she'd skip the birthday gift for him that year. It was an amusing
thought, if nothing else.

        The surprise sure worked--he'd
opened his mouth to ask something of John, but his eyes discovered a much
better, more interesting focus as he skidded to a halt. "Whoah."
He tried. Then, after several beats, he attempted conversation again.
"Whoah."

        "And here I thought it was
just my birthday present." She turned again, slowly giving
everyone a good look. "I don't suppose you two had anything to do
with this perfect fit."

        After another look at just
how
well the leather hugged every curve of her body without being restrictive...
"Less than you might think." Rodger joked.

        "Alright, the tightness
is getting to me now. I need jeans." She announced. Taking
a step to find them, however... resulted in the motion of the world.

        That shift. That damn,
dizzying marker that noted something had changed, was changing--

        The dark embrace was not
so scary, that time. It was far from comfortable, not a bit comforting,
but... thinking back, it wasn't as if she hadn't known it would happen
in a completely unexpected moment. Oh well... questioning Vincent
was just going to have to wait, she supposed.

        And then... it wasn't
like before. Not at all. From darkness to... dimness?
There was solid ground beneath her feet, though. Granted that she
could barely see it even though she was sitting (Why sitting?) right
on it, but... she was certainly in her body.

        She just... didn't know
where
her body was. Exactly.

        Fuck. This was not...
a familiar place. Standing up with a silenced groan of tired muscles
and overall frustration, she took a long, steady look around. At
least it didn't seem to be populated... though she wasn't sure how good
of a thing that was. No Heartless, yes... but no people. No
buildings. Just a strange field of dark skies and dark ground beneath
her.

        Great. Fucking
great. I'm alone.

        --Wait. Actually...
there was someone approaching. At least that's how it appeared; it
looked like someone walking toward her. And while there was no light
source to speak of, the closer it got to her, the more she could make out.

        The figure approaching wore
a long black coat like Riku, covering everything but black boots, black
gloves, a head of brightest red hair that could only be rivaled by Cloud's
impossible spikes... and a very devious expression on his face. It
was nearly enough to knock her right back down on her ass, but for some
reason it inspired her to be just a little too pissed to care. He
was looking right at her, approaching with no great hurry, hands folded
neatly behind him as he walked.

        Yeah. Great.
And she was just in the mood for company, too. She took an amazing
chance by extending her hand, hoping very deeply that she could manage
to once again call the Keyblade. Maybe that would scare him
off--but as the pain sparked from her palm outward, as the light shone
from the wound and formed that familiar and unfamiliar weapon while ripping
the bandages that had been around the wound it had left before, the approaching
stranger only looked more interested in her.

        He halted, several yards
away, merely watching for a long period of time. When he did speak,
it was a voice of amusement. "So. You can hold the Keyblade."

        Her eyes narrowed, both
at his tone and his oddly bright grin. He didn't seem the type to
be easily scared off. Unfortunately. "Yeah. Ain't that
a kick in the crotch?"

        The stranger chuckled almost
pleasantly. "It is indeed." Behaving as if she were no threat
at all, he began to circle her. Watching. Grinning. Nodding
every once in a while.

        Kyrie felt tension rise
with anger. What the hell did the man think he was doing?
They were watching one another closely... but she was not moving, while
he continued to circle. What at last he was behind her, he made a
great showing of staring directly at her leather-clad ass--and whistling.

        Amusing as it may have been
on any day when she wasn't pissed off and ready to tear anything
in her path apart, she wasn't really feeling all that civil in that very
moment. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to treat a lady like that?"
she tossed sarcastically, trying to gauge what kind of a fighter he was
by attitude alone.

        "You're no lady."
His face still held that grin... but his voice held an absolute seriousness,
as well.

        "Granted." She countered,
other hand reaching for her gunblade. Certainly he was measuring
her up for attack... that was the only explanation. So, maybe she
could turn the tables in her favor. "So who the fuck are you, anyway?"

        He grinned with her question,
certain that her curiosity was only halfway honest. "I'm one of the
survivors of the Last Great Disaster... but nevermind that. You weren't
told about that part. They both damned themselves."

        A shiver moved through her
body before she could gain control of it; she knew who he was referring
to. Some bit of Sora recognized this figure... though she couldn't
consciously gather a name or a purpose. Last Great Disaster..?
Damned themselves..?

        "You don't belong here."
He announced, quietly.

        The words surprised her
as much as the cool, almost helpful tone of his voice. "I'd say the
same thing about you."

        His grin was cutting.
"Indeed. Good instinct."

        She returned the expression,
keyblade ready in one hand... and her gunblade pulled in the other.
"I've heard it all before. Let's go."

        Her reaction seemed to satisfy
him on some level, though his expression never changed. "Believe
it or not, I'm not here to fight you. Not that I want to refuse.
I'm sure it would be quite the experience."

        Curiosity about the man
had lead into complete frustration. She was not his plaything.
"So you're still here because..?"

        Only then did his expression
change, the grin fading into something almost... sad. "The Dawn Walker
lead you here. The Heartless who happens to have a heart... although
it's not entirely his right now. But you needn't worry about
that part--I'm simply looking for him."

        He was a genuine puzzle,
to put it all very blandly. Friend or foe, something told her that
Riku would not have wanted her to be in contact with this man. "There's
just little ol' me here, for now. That'll have to do."

        "I guess it will."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with a gloved hand, the grin almost instantly
reappearing. "Shall I show you something, then?"

        Well. What a question.
Would it have really mattered how she responded, she wondered...
"I'm still not sure of your part in all of this."

        Once again, he somehow seemed
thrilled with her response. "Tsk tsk. Isn't it enough to know
we're intertwined in the same web of existence? Albeit completely
separate strands."

        That... was not helpful.
At all. She saw very little choice, however... she was trapped there,
she knew it. So did the grinning redhead. She swallowed, slowly
placing Eleison back at her side... and even more slowly willing the Keyblade
to disappear. That time, she could feel the blood oozing from her
palm, glancing down at it without meaning to.

        The stranger seemed to consider
her wound for a moment, then shrugged it off as he turned and lead the
way. Kyrie was left behind for only a moment, blinking stupidly.
What did he know that he wasn't willing to let her in on..? No matter,
she supposed. Given the choice to follow or get lost... she walked
behind him.

        It couldn't have been more
than three steps later when the darkness around them began to... melt.
It dripped and fell away into brilliant gold light--and then solid objects.
She blinked against the sudden onslaught of light and form, surprised entirely
by not being dizzy with the suddenness of it. She was in...
what looked like the coliseum she'd met the "other" Cloud in. Well,
that was certainly unexpected. She glanced at her "guide" to see
him comfortably beside her, willing her onward with his eyes.

        Turning back toward the
inner circle of the battleground, she instantly found a familiar face across
the way. "Hey, John!" Well, there was one down. Faster
than she expected, even.

        He sauntered on over in
no rush. "Hey, Ky. Who's your friend?"

        "Don't know, don't care."
She didn't have to turn around to know the redhead was grinning viciously
at her back. "You alone?"

        "'Fraid so." He confirmed,
glancing behind him one more time. He'd had the strangest feeling
of being watched since he'd just "found" himself there moments ago... with
the distinct feeling the redhead was not the source. "Well,
I was."

        Kyrie turned back to inquire--
"Hm." It seemed the mysterious asshole had decided to skip out and
leave them to fend for themselves. Well. Not that she ultimately
minded, she guessed... "I don't suppose you happen to know what the
fuck is going on..."

        "I was kinda hoping you
did." John admitted, trying not to keep looking over his shoulder.
There was definitely someone else here...

        And he wasn't the only one
who felt it. Glancing down at her hand, Kyrie made note of the dried
blood on her palm... but no open wound. At least that was something...

        --Not enough. Not
nearly enough. She could taste it...

        He descended.
The bastard descended from the fucking sky--

        Sephiroth.

        And yet... not Sephiroth.
The eyes were familiar enough to still her breath as they met her gaze--but
there was too much of a difference... something much, much... worse...
Too cold, too distant... too sane... When she finally had
the sense about her to break eye contact, she was stricken entirely with
that single, black, feathered wing on his back...

        John immediately moved to
grasp both of her shoulders to hold her back. "Whoah there,
Ky." He tried to keep his good-natured sense of humor about him...
but the strain was noticed in his voice. Even with his above normal
strength, the fight she had in her, the dedication she had given to that
single step forward before he had the presence of mind to stop her... was
pretty damn incredible. Almost without understanding. He knew
the basics of their history, but he also knew that this was not
the same Sephiroth she knew.

        What John failed to realize,
was that that in itself was the very reason she was so desperately
enraged. Pained. Maybe... afraid. That was not
Sephiroth... but not in the same ways that Leon was not Squall. That
had been... acceptable. Understandable. This, looking into
those slitted, glowing Mako eyes that held hardly a touch of the insanity,
the pain, the... passion that she'd been forced to realize...
It wasn't right. Perhaps this image in front of her was a paler shade
of the real thing, in her mind... but really, there was something deeper.
This Sephiroth had embraced the Darkness... with a knowledge. With
a choice. He didn't have the pain raging through him that
the other had. That just kinda... pissed her off. He would
never know the true pain of his counterpart.

        And that wing... that single,
black, feathered wing... that was the center of her rage. Why,
exactly, was lost to her in the moment... but she was forced to understand
somewhere deep down that maybe only the color itself was wrong.

        But... John was right.
There was no reason for her rage really. Just because she remembered
something differently didn't mean... Well, enough. She passed
a hand delicately over one of his that was holding her shoulders, and that
was enough of a sign that she understood.

        He let go, but stood beside
her. This was not over, obviously--especially since the not-Sephiroth
had begun to walk toward them with a look of sick amusement on his face.
Well... he had his guns. He knew her nightmares, sometimes... knew
the descriptions Rodger had given him of what her back looked like after
Sephiroth had gotten done with her, how he talked about the time when the
psycho tried to take her mind. It was all the rage he needed to pump
adrenaline, should he need to.

        Maybe it was not the commanding,
fearsome presence of the Sephiroth... but John found his knees not
quite as strong as he'd have liked them to be when the man towered above
him, stopping only inches away from them both. He seemed to ignore
Kyrie, obviously and purposefully--instead, reaching an elegant hand to
the half-devil.

        John did not so much as
blink when the man's gloved hand swept almost delicately under his chin,
along his jawline. Those dangerous, green cat eyes held maliciousness
under the slow mask of an easy smirk. The only thing keeping the
man from moving in for the kill was a sudden cold force against his lower
region.

        "One step closer and I'll
blast you balls off." The boy promised, pressing Ebony even harder
against the exact area he'd threatened. "Real" Sephiroth or no...
he was not a man to be trusted.

        The green glow increased
as the eyes narrowed even more dangerously. "I could lay waste to
all that you are, boy."

        He'd faced worse demons
than this. "Go ahead and fucking try." He dared, squeezing
Ebony a little tighter.

        There was a disapproving
look over the man's face--and then his focus shifted. If the boy
may well prove some entertainment, what of his companion?

        She sensed the shift before
she saw it--catching his wrist with a strength that rivaled his own before
he could touch her. "I've done this before." She announced
through gritted teeth, not even exactly sure what she was announcing...
or from whose point of view. Sora had fought him before... but, in
a way, so had she. "Disappear. Now."

        "Such spirit..." he managed
to yank his hand away, "But what have you against me?"

        A sickening sweet tone...
more sane than she'd have cared for it to have been. In fact... that's
all his cold eyes shone back at her--utter sanity. He knew exactly
what he was doing.

        That was... so much worse...
No matter; she backed up a step and called the Keyblade, hoping he'd see
it to his disadvantage. She was certain she didn't hide the cringe
as well as she'd wanted to, though... it hurt. Like it were
being ripped from her body rather than willed into existence... and maybe
that was more the truth.

        Apparently, it was the wrong
move to have made. Or, at least, it was the advantage being looked
for. It happened all at once, simply far too quickly and under too
much chaos to make sense of the motions. All Kyrie knew was a crashing,
seething agony in her right shoulder--enough to make her forget the Keyblade,
for it to disappear from her grasp and leave behind more oozing blood...
though that didn't seem to be the only blood...

        Only when the distinct,
too-real feeling of a surprisingly cold, leather-clad palm rested against
the bare flesh of her abdomen was she able to gather herself enough to
snarl with anger, understanding what had just happened too quickly.
The eerily not-quite-Sephiroth had used several kinds of magic in one quick
burst, knocking John away and her flying into one of the pillars on the
far side--only... she hadn't fallen to the ground.

        That was where the pain
screaming from her shoulder came in, apparently... she didn't have to look
up to know she'd have seen half the Masamune jutting from the flesh.
The blade was long and certainly strong enough to have pierced stone...
and whatever little resistance her body had offered. Hanging there,
mocked by vicious green eyes and the hand he'd so obviously slid under
her new leather jacket to drive her rage further... She reached for
her gunblade as he made to lean forward, but he was just too ready for
the move when her reaction time was slowed by the pain. Only graceful
ease and a harsh grasp took her wrist, pinning it against the pillar with
his other hand.

        "Careful, now." The
beast whispered against her ear, very slowly drawing his touch upward.
"You wouldn't want me to slip and--"

        Her scream drowned out the
rest of his words. She felt his palm against her lowest right rib
press--then thrust. She heard the break and felt the
splinters tearing into her flesh. Vision became white, all other
senses tainted by breathless, shuddering pain.

        Gunshots. Close, or
she never would have heard them over the thunder of blood rushing in her
ears. Splinters of broken ribs... that wasn't something she was exactly
expecting, let alone used to. She didn't notice the hand dropping
away from her, couldn't quite grasp the concept of reaching up to try and
free herself of the blade holding her there, just yet...

        How Rodger had found
himself at the center of a coliseum was absolutely not important.
Instinct called for him to raise his gun long before the sight that made
his throat dry but his blood boil--and his finger was on the trigger even
before the aim was true. He shot that dark wing hovering over her,
getting a number of satisfying spurts of blood and blown-apart feathers--just
enough to get the bastard to turn around and move for a better shot...

        John took it along with
him. He'd been thrown all the way to the other side of the
arena, thinking his shoulder badly wrenched from the socket if not suffering
from a break as well. No matter--the other arm was just fine for
shooting, and Ivory wanted a little blood.

        Even though her eyes were
watering with the pain, Kyrie could see the bullets tearing through the
fabric, the feathers, the flesh--but the man didn't so much as flinch.
She finally gave an attempt at reaching for the blade that held her, realizing
with another bright flash of searing pain that she couldn't reach anything
but blade. She could already tell that her hands were sweating, to
try and wrench the sword from the pillar while shaking with agony from
broken ribs and a skewed shoulder...

        "So there's three of you
now..." the false Sephiroth seemed overly pleased, turning around only
long enough to give the boys a decent look at everything they weren't
accomplishing with bullets. "Perhaps you would try your luck with
a spar?"

        Bastard. So
smug, so sure... so annoying confident. He was moving in again, to
snap another rib like a dry branch beneath his fingers...

        "Fuck off." She growled,
grasping tightly onto a spark of memory she was not familiar with.
Lucky for her, she'd stopped trying to make sense of it long ago.
"Draw."

        In a world devoid of most
magics since Ultimecea had been defeated, the finer points of how to draw
magic from a natural draw point or a creature was never explained to her.
Hardly even brought up, in fact... and certainly not the ability to draw
and then immediately... "Cast." She ordered without understanding
why.

        Light. It was light
with a physical form, with a presence and mass and... a weapon. The
wing that had been so darkly held over her shuddered--the man gasped and
then drew back, startled for a moment... before the true sting of the magic
sent him into a half-yelled curse. He had only enough time to glare
hatefully at Kyrie... before all pain vanished from her face, showing only
a feral grin.

        "Cast, Holy." She
ordered with more certainty. Without really being able to grasp the
understanding of how, she'd broken through his defenses... and then
some.

        More bullets, more blood;
a cry of rage and then one of pain. All at once the single wing extended,
somehow managing to carry his body up before it disappeared in a burst
of darkness. Not defeated... but certainly driven away.

        It occurred to Kyrie right
about then, that she'd be a lot happier if she weren't still in quite so
much pain. Closing her eyes to gain a sense of calm, she heard the
approaching footsteps of the other two.

        "Ky?" Rodger sounded horrified
and concerned at once, seeing blood from her palm, her shoulder... and
slowly trickling down from under her leather jacket.

        "Rib. Broken."
She gasped, realizing taking a deep breath had been a really stupid thing
to do. "I'd appreciate it... if you'd get me down."

        John rushed over, feeling
like an idiot for not having done so immediately. Of course... she
was a lot more calm than he imagined someone in her position should have
been. He hesitated, though...

        "Just pull." She suggested,
not entirely gently. The pain was one thing... but the echoing thoughts
of the all too familiar blade having pierced her again...

        Much as he didn't find that
suggestion to be the best idea in the world... the half-devil did as she
asked. With his good arm, he used one swift, almost violent tug,
and the sword was pulled away; leaving behind a bitten-back cry and what
was likely a series of curses uttered under one sharp breath. He
caught her as gently as he could given that his own shoulder was still
suffering from a physical blow, doing everything in his power not to make
her broken rib throb any more. He'd been there... it wasn't fun.

        Between the shoulder and
the rib, she pretty much decided the day was already a bad one. Even
taking in the air to thank him sent a sharp jolt through her... not that
not
breathing at all felt that great, either. Dammit. She should
have asked Cloud about his Restore materia. What she'd give for healing
magic...

        --Which brought something
else to mind immediately. "Holy." Even whispered, the word
was... an odd one. Odder still was how she'd known... done and felt
and... used... She still felt a little glimmer of it inside of her,
too, as if it were ready to be called out and used again. Trying
to control her breathing to cause the least amount of annoyance and pain,
she had to ask. "Can either of your draw?"

        "I'm still trying to figure
out how the hell you did it..." Rodger admitted, looking her up
and down. Really, what the hell were they going to do now?
It was all he could do not to shiver. Sephiroth... not the
Sephiroth, but a version of him... had been so close... again...
Rage and fear and a sick, vicious sensation were threatening to overcome
his forced calm...

        The discovery of just how
much a single broken rib mattered was getting annoying. Kyrie had
moved forward from John for only a moment, taking all of her weight on
her right leg... very lucky he was paying enough attention to allow her
to lean against him again. Another thought was taking her attention...
how
could she ever be able to draw? Guardian Forces... she'd never
seen one, let alone... it made no sense. Materia couldn't draw, she
knew that... and the magic of Holy had been lost for so long...

        The sudden flash and movement
of what could only be called dark energy distracted their thoughts--and
for just a moment it caused painfully tight weights to form in all of their
stomachs at the thought that the man had returned...

        Worry was alleviated, albeit
slightly, by Riku appearing to dart out from the suddenly appearing tunnel
of darkness; the gateway was sealed by a whispered word and the touch of
his hand before he turned to them. Relief crossed his eyes--just
before concern. He had his suspicions about what had happened...
Sephiroth was only glad to take on new opponents, and anyone who entered
the coliseum was fair game.

        It took Riku only a glance
to understand Kyrie's wounds. At least the Masamune left perfectly
clean cuts. The shattered rib, having left cuts through the flesh,
however... Well, better to just get it over with. "I suggest
you prepare yourself. On three?"

        Her gaze was surprisingly
good-natured for what she knew was about to happen. "Oh, you think
I'd fall for tha--"

        There was no count, at all.
While he hadn't exactly planned it, he'd gotten used to his will causing
things to happen before he was actually ready. Unknown words whispered
under his breath, hand outstretched, palm towards her... a light layered
of purple and green sealed her shoulder with almost no pain at all, but
the rib... that was different. She actually surprised him by not
yelping, not lashing out at him with curses. Just a long, deep, shuddering
breath. He liked to think perhaps it was gratitude holding her back...
but he remembered, with a cold shudder, an incident where Sora had suffered
from multiple broken ribs...

        Kyrie allowed herself a
deep, pain-free breath before giving her new, bloodied leather jacket
a mild look... prodding at the holes still cut on either side of her shoulder.
Well. It would figure, wouldn't it. She changed the subject
out of little more than extreme aggravation. "How long were we gone?"

        Riku blinked. He was
expecting some accusation, or at the very least some mention of
the pain he'd just caused... Not that he minded. "A day or
so."

        "'Or so'..?" John questioned,
puzzled. Though time moved differently between worlds, there was
usually a... formula, so to speak, for each individual world shift...

        "You can't trust how the
light moves, here." The boy replied quietly, turning away.

        Curiosity of his statement
flared in Kyrie only a scant second before the answer hit her from Sora's
memory--day and night no longer existed in the worlds invaded by Heartless...
"What happened?" came from her lips, once again not knowing quite what
she was referring to.

        "There was a... shift."
Riku responded meekly, still looking away. "I couldn't stop it..."

        No answer... but the distinct
impression that getting more out of him wasn't worth the struggle, for
the moment. Well. Then. "Take a look at John's shoulder.
Then let's keep going."

        Yeah, who didn't see Sephy
comin'. As for what's going on? Well, uh... you'll see.
I hope. This chapter was a long story in itself, huh? I'm still
only semi-sure of what's going to happen, so it should be fun for
all of us. Yay.

        If you'd like to be e-mailed
when I update, drop me a line (orin(at)sephain.com) with whatever story/stories/website
you'd like me to inform you of.
- 7
- 8
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Ties that Bind and Tear Apart