Xmas Giftfics 2012 Part 2
Yeah, remember these? Ahahahahahaha.
For Skibalovesya
A. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya
B. ItsuKyon
C. ...awkwardfirsttime (yup totally one word)
AN: Not sure if this is really what you were after, but hope it suffices.
On a scale of one to ten in awkwardness, the stretching silence was somewhere in the vicinity of three million.
“I didn’t think you would come today,” Koizumi eventually offered as they left the clubroom.
“And risk Haruhi’s curiosity? No thanks,” Kyon grumbled, and eyed the esper more closely. Now he could finally ask the question that had been bothering him all afternoon. “Are you wearing makeup?”
Koizumi’s hand darted up to his cheek, as though to hide the faded bruise from sight - likely the result of the not entirely intentional elbow to the face. He opened his mouth to respond, and Kyon immediately knew that whatever came out next, it would be a lie. “Never mind,” he grumbled, sinking back into the folds of his scarf.
It really had been a disaster all around. Kyon fought down the blush that was doing its best to set his face on fire.
“How are you feeling?” the transfer student asked, after another hundred beats of uncomfortable silence.
Kyon was tempted to snap back, to ask ‘how do you THINK?’, but Koizumi seemed genuinely distressed about the whole affair, so he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he waved his hand airily, dismissing the matter. “No problem,” he lied.
Koizumi might not be psychic, but the esper was also good at spotting lies. A slightly frown marring his face, he turned and reached for him. Reflexively, Kyon flinched, stumbling back half a step. Koizumi’s fingers only found the edge of his scarf though, and with a gentle tug, the fabric fell away, exposing his marked neck for the world to see.
Snatching the scarf back and not taking the time to dwell on the unusual expression on the esper’s face - he’d seen a more diverse array of expressions from his fellow brigade member in the past twenty-four hours than he had in the past four months - he snapped, “Watch it, would you? Do you want the others to see?” Gruffly, he wound the scarf back around his neck, hiding the evidence once again.
It was an overreaction, maybe - the school was quiet, and Haruhi had already dragged Asahina and Nagato out on some nefarious scheme that probably involved seasonally inappropriate clothing. A couple of the diehard clubs with winter meets were likely still practicing, but everyone sane was already long gone, leaving the hallways empty and desolate.
“My apologies,” Koizumi offered, and it was somehow worse that he almost sounded sincere for once.
“Forget it,” Kyon grunted.
They reached the shoe lockers, slipping out of their school slippers and into footwear more appropriate for the snow outside. They didn’t speak again until they were out in the biting wind. A lone car rumbled past, windows fogged up from interior heating.
It was bugging him, now. Kyon had never heard Koizumi remain silent for that long, not when it was just the two of them. The esper almost always had some information or observation on Haruhi to share, and failing that could monologue philosophy like a bored post-graduate. So screw it, Kyon would bite the proverbial bullet. “Why are you in such a funk? We got out of it okay.” In the most important meanings of the word, anyway. Kyon had been stabbed on multiple occasions, and faced down the very end of the world at least once a month, so maybe his perspective was a little skewed.
“It was my first time,” Koizumi admitted.
…Idiot. Why did he have to go say something like that? “Of course it was. We’re freshmen.”
The esper rubbed the back of his neck, looking unusually sheepish. “It was a little different than I expected, honestly.” He coughed. “Perhaps we should have researched a little.”
“It wasn’t like it was planned, though.” Kyon very determinedly kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead. What else could he say? ‘Sorry we were reality-bombed into having sex?’
“One has to expect the unexpected when dealing with Suzumiya. Otherwise a world with people such as myself and Nagato would not exist, would it?”
“I guess it might still be a good idea,” Kyon conceded. “For next time.”
He didn’t realise exactly what he’d said until Koizumi’s expression blossomed into that smug grin he wore so frequently. Ah, crap. “We haven’t changed realities again, have we?” he offered lamely. “Because that’s my defence if anyone asks.” Not that anyone would ask. Or that he would tell them if they did. Just… he really was digging a hole here, abort, abort!
Koizumi’s grin just got wider. Damn espers. Kyon would bet money that despite all protests to the contrary, they could definitely absolutely read minds.
For swyrel
A. Fifth Act
B. Genesis/Chibi!Cloud/Cloud
C. Cloud finds the location of a hidden lab containing the Chibi!Triplets; however, no one - especially Genesis - is very excited about the addition of Cloud's 'little brothers', especially when they show such an interest in their 'black sheep brother'.
AN: A short piece of crack. I took some small liberties with your prompt but I hope it satisfied regardless.
Cloud glared at Sephiroth. “This is your fault.”
Sephiroth just looked perplexed. “I fail to see how.”
They were standing in the entrance of the Sector 0 reactor, surrounded by dark steel walls lit green by glowing mako. Long metal catwalks stretched high overhead, and massive pipes rumbled below.
And standing across from them… three far-too-familiar silver-haired teenagers.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Cloud said. “You shouldn’t even exist here.” Jenova had been utterly obliterated. Sephiroth was alive. In this timeline, there was no one in the Lifestream who either had the motivation or the capability to manifest the triplets.
Except Yazoo, Kadaj, and Loz were all there, and all very much existing.
“That’s not very kind, big brother,” Kadaj purred. His voice was smooth and sultry, but the underlying threat hadn’t changed at all.
Sephiroth apparently heard it too, as he suddenly fixed the triplets with a sharp stare - the kind he normally reserved for enemies. “Do we have a problem here?”
Kadaj’s gaze flicked to Sephiroth, awe and wonder and jealousy flitting across his face, before snapping back to Cloud, full of venom. “The only problem is him. He’s a traitor, and he should pay.”
Cloud palmed the hilt of his sword. He might have felt a bit sorry for the remnants once upon a time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely willing to cut them down. Show them how well they’d fare when he wasn’t half-crippled with Geostigma.
He didn’t get the chance. Sephiroth stepped between them, a physical barrier to the brewing fight. “If you have business with Cloud,” he said, “You first have to go through me.”
The threat turned immediately to dismay. “But he killed mother!” Kadaj protested in disbelief.
Loz’s eyes began to tear up. “Don’t cry, Loz,” Yazoo chided.
“I’m not crying!” he protested.
“Kill me,” Cloud said to Sephiroth. “I’m giving you a free shot. I’m not dealing with this.”
“Don’t joke about such things,” Sephiroth replied with a frown, and then to the triplets said, “And if by mother you mean Jenova, that wasn’t Cloud. I believe Genesis deserves the credit there.”
“You called?” Genesis sauntered in, with Cloud’s past self in tow. He came to an abrupt halt, took one glance at the silver-haired, cat-eyed triplets, and said, “Dear goddess, there are more of him.”
Incidentally, that had been eerily similar to Cloud’s first thoughts on meeting the remnants.
“We need to alert Lazard,” Sephiroth said. “And get someone from the Science Department to figure out where they came from, and whether it’s possible to send them back.” He glanced at Cloud. “You seem to know the most about this. Do you suppose they’ll need holding cells?”
“They’ll probably listen to you,” Cloud admitted grudgingly.
“When I answered the alarm, no one warned me about this,” Genesis complained in the background, even as he fished his PHS out of his pocket. “Is this more time travel? Minerva spare me, do you have children in the future?”
“He’s not our father,” Kadaj declared, with haughty derision enough to match Genesis’s own.
“He might as well be,” Cloud muttered under his breath.
Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him. “If I recall correctly, they called you big brother.”
“Brother?” the younger Cloud asked, utterly flabbergasted. “…Does this make them my uncles too?”
“We are not brothers,” Cloud stressed, glaring at Sephiroth. “Don’t encourage them.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Genesis declared, flipping his PHS open and dialling one-handed. “Lazard? I’m not taking this one.”
“That’s cruel, big brother,” Yazoo chided Cloud. “You’re making Loz cry.”
Loz had his arm over his eyes. “I’m not crying!”
He refused to deal with this. Cloud plucked the PHS from Genesis’s hand and held it to his ear. “Lazard, I’m quitting SOLDIER.” Then he handed it back and stalked from the Reactor, leaving Sephiroth in charge of his three younger look-alikes and his thoroughly bewildered past self.
“Is he really-?” the younger Cloud hesitantly asked.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Genesis reassured him. “This is the third time he’s quit this month.”
For tsuyuhime
A. FFVII
B. Cloud/Vincent
C. Sentiment and/or Captivated
Cloud had been sorting listlessly through his delivery receipts in his office when Tifa came knocking.
“Vincent’s gone missing again.”
Cloud paused, and shuffled the rest of the receipts aside. So much for getting his paperwork in order. “How long?”
“Two months now.”
It was the first he’d heard of it, but that wasn’t unusual. Vincent didn’t touch base regularly, and they often didn’t discover he’d pulled a vanishing act until someone needed him, or when Shelke started to look particularly restless.
He spent a minute fiddling with his pen, before setting that aside too. It didn’t need to be said. The request hung the air, unacknowledged but unmistakeable.
“One of the others can’t go?”
“You’re the resident expert in finding him.” Tifa crossed her arms with a slight huff. “Cid refused this time, and Yuffie has apparently already been looking for a while.”
He stood and shrugged his shoulders, loosening the muscles. “There’s no secret to it.” He didn’t get it. It wasn’t like Vincent was in hiding. When nothing was going on, there were only ever a handful of places he’d be, and they all knew it.
Tifa shook her head in rueful amusement. “Maybe it’s that you’re the only one he’ll let find him.” She turned to leave him be, calling over her shoulder, “Make sure you remember to say bye to Denzel and Marlene before you go!”
And that was that. Tifa didn’t need to ask whether he would go - the answer was already a foregone conclusion.
Cloud left Seventh Heaven at first light the next morning, the roar of Fenrir’s engine thundering through the quiet streets. He made a point of stopping in at the Chocobo Farm, and then Junon, and then the Golden Saucer, but it was really only wasting time. Pretending he didn’t already know.
One week later, he was clambering through the Nibel mountains.
The lagoon was as tranquil as ever. He passed behind the roaring curtain of the waterfall, the wafting mist cool against his skin, and headed into the cavern behind it. The rumble of water quickly receded, replaced by the cold, heavy silence of the underground.
As predicted, Vincent was exactly where he’d expected. Sitting in the Crystal Cave, captivated by Lucrecia’s sleeping visage. His crimson cloak pooled around him, pale skin turned almost blue by the crystals’ luminescence.
Cloud leant against the cavern wall by the entrance, watching. It felt wrong to break the silence, to intrude before Vincent was ready. He imagined it was a bit like when he visited the bluff where Zack died. He could understand that. Could respect it.
Hated it.
Luckily, Vincent didn’t leave him waiting for long. “You’re uncomfortable.” His smooth baritone slid across the space between them like a shadow.
Cloud crossed his arms against the cavern’s chill. The cold didn’t bother him normally, but in here… “It’s fine.”
“You didn’t have to come. I would have returned eventually.”
Cloud shrugged. Vincent wasn’t facing him, and wouldn’t have seen the gesture, but then, Vincent never seemed to need to. “It’s no trouble.” He waited for a long moment, marshalling his thoughts, wondering if it was even okay to say anything more. Eventually, he settled on, “I’m surprised you’re still doing this.”
Before, it made sense. But things had changed after DeepGround. There was Shelke to consider now. It seemed odd that Vincent would keep pulling this stunt with her in the picture.
Silence stretched between them, a yawning chasm of wordless distance.
Cloud had been content to let it go, to leave the question unanswered, when Vincent suddenly said, “Sometimes, I think I can hear her voice.”
Cloud paused. Considered the crystals in the cave, and visage of the sleeping woman in the centre of them. “Lucrecia’s?”
Vincent stared straight ahead, as always, the light of the crystals reflected in his crimson eyes. “She’s always apologising.”
Cloud didn’t comment. There wasn’t any comment he could make to that.
Vincent did turn then, studying him thoughtfully. “It bothers you.”
Cloud looked away. “It doesn’t bother me. I just don’t like this place.”
The words stewed in the air, dank and heavy. Another eternity passed before Vincent murmured, “Too close to Nibelheim?”
The Nibel mountain ranges were soaked in memories so twisted that even his most innocent childhood recollections had been coloured black by them. But… “That’s not why.”
No requests for explanation came - Vincent knew, quite rightly, that such a request was unnecessary, and was willing to wait for Cloud to gather his thoughts enough to give them voice.
“I have a nightmare,” he eventually admitted. “That one day, I’ll come looking, and it’ll be you in the crystal instead.”
Vincent’s gaze was heavy, considering. An almost physical weight on his shoulders. The crystals pulsed faintly around them, the glow growing and receding like ocean waves on the shore.
“…If that day comes,” Vincent murmured, “Would you visit too?”
Succumb to the curse himself, visiting a crystal cave, listening for echoes of the dead and sleeping?
It would be inevitable.