Simple Design
Title: Simple Design
Author: LoveAngel2141
Beta Credit: torncorpse
Characters: Zack Fair & Cloud Strife
Written For: 12_Stories - Eight - Miscellaneous B - Duty
Word Count: 1,629
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He dealt with the heart ache of loss the same way he dealt with everything. He took it, pulled it deep inside of him and buried it. Buried it so deep that no one would ever be able to shine a light of knowing on it
Disclaimer: This is a total and complete work of fiction. I in no way own any of the character's mentioned in this work of fiction. I am not making any sort of profit off of this.
-----
Authors's Note: So, I think this is probably the weirdest and most out there thing I have ever written. And there's really no patiicular reason why it's weird or out there, except for the fact that I've never done anything like it. It's full of angst and everything else people seem to love. It probably stemed from me feeling completely horrid this past few days, with alot of ups and downs. It's extremely vague. There are no names used. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, but I hope that all of you enjoy it.
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It was harder then it should have been. Some how harder to walk away with a simple good bye then to have walked away with no good bye at all. It would have been better if he had just walked away. If he had just left without saying a word. Without telling anyone. It wasn't as if he was the one making the choice. The choice had already been made for him, with him having no say in the final decision. It wasn't fair, but then again there wasn't much in this life that was. Still he would go, and go without complaint. not because he wanted to, but because it was what he had signed up for. What he had spent the past three years training for. Because it was his duty.
He had lived his life on based on principles. His father has once told him that the only way to make it through life with you pride and dignity intact was to live by a certain set of principles. Stuck to your guns, he had said, and never ever let them tell you any differently.
And so he had surrounded himself with nothing but those principles that he had set for himself. They were everything to him. They were what guided him through his day to day life. They were what helped him make the tough and important decisions. They were what had lead him to join the army in the first place. To answer to some sort of higher calling. To some sort of need to protect the helpless, the ones who couldn't protect themselves. To be the one that people turned to in their time of need. To be a hero.
He had built his hopes and dreams around those principles. He had worked, diligently to see them come true, without ever going back on his morals. He had trained, working long, hard hours into the night to make sure he was the best he could be. To make sure that when the time came, he was ready. He had worked his way through the ranks and had the caught the eye of one of the most respected warriors in the known world. He had shed blood, sweat and tears to make sure he was everything his mentor expected him to be. He wanted to be better then his mentor expected him to be. Better then the world expected him to be.
He dealt with the heart ache of loss the same way he dealt with everything. He took it, pulled it deep inside of him and buried it. Buried it so deep that no one would ever be able to shine a light of knowing on it. No one would ever be allowed to see his tears. Crying was a sign of weakness, and weakness was the one thing he wasn't allowed to be. And so he took his grief and it turned to strength inside of him. Making him aim higher then he had ever dared before. His dreams, all of his hopes and aspirations were with in his sight. All he had to do was open his hand and allow them to come into him. Allow himself to be devoured by their brilliant golden light.
He had never expected that on the very eve of everything he had worked so hard to obtain, of everything he given his life to achieving, it would all fall apart around him. Leaving him standing in a pile of meaningless garbage. His life's ambitions. His life's work. Everything that had ever meant anything to him was contained in that very pile. Slowly turning into nothing but compost. The mess stood out like a sore thumb among all the carefully crafted plans, against the outlined of his life, mocking him with it's destruction.
As it all came crashing down, tumbling, breaking, smashing into dozens of shards that had once created a life, the reason behind the tidal wave stood out in his mind. It had blown through him. Amazed him that one person could break apart a life so thoroughly that it could never be repaired. There was no way of picking up the pieces, the thousands of shards that littered the ground like broken glass and somehow piece them back together like a puzzle. There would be no glue powerful enough to keep the pieces in their once proper place. The damage had been done.
The tidal wave, the forever altering tsunami not only had a name, but a face. A personality. A pair of eyes so blue they could easily rival the sky. A head of hair so blond, so perfectly spiked it had to be some sort of anomaly. A smile, so rare, so perfect on those pink pouting lips that he would have given anything, his entire life, to see it. It had been both a stroke of luck and also of misfortune the day he had stumbled upon the struggling young cadet. One who had the same determined look in his eye that he himself had once had. One that he could not only relate with but appreciate. At that moment, the pupil had become the mentor, and a new generation had begun.
He relished in having someone to teach his set of principles to. Someone who would see things the way he saw them. One who would see the world's imperfections not with a blind eye, or with a mind set on the fact that there was nothing that could be done. He saw them eyes wide, and open, drinking in the sights. The beauty along with the problems that plagued their world. He would sit for hours trying to come up with ways to help the less fortunate. He was, in every way, the perfect counterpart to the older of the pair. No, he was perfect, in every way.
The words love and caring never came up during their talks. It was never discussed that they would one day end up as so much more then friends. It had never been explained that the things they felt towards one another were natural, or that they should ever be accepted by the other party. It was all to foriegn, all so against the set of principles he lived by.
What he did now, he did for duty. He did because he had to. Because the warning had come, and he had to heed it. He would not allow for everything he had worked so hard for, everything he had built, to come tumbling down around him a second time. He would not allow his young lover to be ripped apart by the lions who called them selves rightgious simply because they had a different set, a better set, a more holy set in their highly regarded opinions, then the two of them did. No, it was better to walk away before anyone else was allowed to get hurt.
He wasn't expecting the reaction that came. He wasn't expecting the tears and the surrow. The begging that came from the younger blond. The ideas, the crazy, wild ideas to leave. Just leave. To run away together. To find some where they could live free. Some where they could live together without fear of riducule or rejection. Without fear of what others would say or think of them. Of what they could do to them because they didn't accept the way they chose to think and live. It was an impossible dream, one that they could obtain if only they were willing to try, the blond would plead. If they believed in each other and the things they felt for each other, they could acheive anything.
Saying no, tearing those hopes and dreams apart. Ripping them to shreds was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. He hadn't lived his entire life to have his plans, the ones he had fought so hard to make and keep, to have the path he had earned the right to walk on end here. It was his duty, to himself and to the world he had sworn to protect to deny his own wants and feelings. To deny a chance at love that would only come once, and would be gone all to quickly.
They would find another way. There was always another way in his world. Always. There was always a way to work with in that set of principles. His set of principles. The one his father had given him so long ago. They would find another way. That was all there was to it. Running away would gain them nothing and solve nothing.
The life that had once been left beyond repair was about to be restored to him. With a simple look, a shake of the head, and a single word, the life he had been leading up until that point, was over. It had been a dream, nothing more. The only one he would never be able to fully achieve. The dream walked out of the heavy wooden door, closing it quietly, leaving him to his own thoughts. The perfect opportunity to realize his real potential, his real ambitions, his real hopes and dreams had gone with the beautiful blond. Never to return.
He would return to the duty he had been trained for. The one he had lived by for so long. He would return to the set of principles he had learned and loved before. The same one he had almost given up on. The man who had loved the beautiful young blonde was gone, dead and buried, and in his place he had left nothing but a cold, empty shell. Clinging to a duty, to a dream, to a hope, that meant nothing to him.
Author: LoveAngel2141
Beta Credit: torncorpse
Characters: Zack Fair & Cloud Strife
Written For: 12_Stories - Eight - Miscellaneous B - Duty
Word Count: 1,629
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He dealt with the heart ache of loss the same way he dealt with everything. He took it, pulled it deep inside of him and buried it. Buried it so deep that no one would ever be able to shine a light of knowing on it
Disclaimer: This is a total and complete work of fiction. I in no way own any of the character's mentioned in this work of fiction. I am not making any sort of profit off of this.
-----
Authors's Note: So, I think this is probably the weirdest and most out there thing I have ever written. And there's really no patiicular reason why it's weird or out there, except for the fact that I've never done anything like it. It's full of angst and everything else people seem to love. It probably stemed from me feeling completely horrid this past few days, with alot of ups and downs. It's extremely vague. There are no names used. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, but I hope that all of you enjoy it.
------
It was harder then it should have been. Some how harder to walk away with a simple good bye then to have walked away with no good bye at all. It would have been better if he had just walked away. If he had just left without saying a word. Without telling anyone. It wasn't as if he was the one making the choice. The choice had already been made for him, with him having no say in the final decision. It wasn't fair, but then again there wasn't much in this life that was. Still he would go, and go without complaint. not because he wanted to, but because it was what he had signed up for. What he had spent the past three years training for. Because it was his duty.
He had lived his life on based on principles. His father has once told him that the only way to make it through life with you pride and dignity intact was to live by a certain set of principles. Stuck to your guns, he had said, and never ever let them tell you any differently.
And so he had surrounded himself with nothing but those principles that he had set for himself. They were everything to him. They were what guided him through his day to day life. They were what helped him make the tough and important decisions. They were what had lead him to join the army in the first place. To answer to some sort of higher calling. To some sort of need to protect the helpless, the ones who couldn't protect themselves. To be the one that people turned to in their time of need. To be a hero.
He had built his hopes and dreams around those principles. He had worked, diligently to see them come true, without ever going back on his morals. He had trained, working long, hard hours into the night to make sure he was the best he could be. To make sure that when the time came, he was ready. He had worked his way through the ranks and had the caught the eye of one of the most respected warriors in the known world. He had shed blood, sweat and tears to make sure he was everything his mentor expected him to be. He wanted to be better then his mentor expected him to be. Better then the world expected him to be.
He dealt with the heart ache of loss the same way he dealt with everything. He took it, pulled it deep inside of him and buried it. Buried it so deep that no one would ever be able to shine a light of knowing on it. No one would ever be allowed to see his tears. Crying was a sign of weakness, and weakness was the one thing he wasn't allowed to be. And so he took his grief and it turned to strength inside of him. Making him aim higher then he had ever dared before. His dreams, all of his hopes and aspirations were with in his sight. All he had to do was open his hand and allow them to come into him. Allow himself to be devoured by their brilliant golden light.
He had never expected that on the very eve of everything he had worked so hard to obtain, of everything he given his life to achieving, it would all fall apart around him. Leaving him standing in a pile of meaningless garbage. His life's ambitions. His life's work. Everything that had ever meant anything to him was contained in that very pile. Slowly turning into nothing but compost. The mess stood out like a sore thumb among all the carefully crafted plans, against the outlined of his life, mocking him with it's destruction.
As it all came crashing down, tumbling, breaking, smashing into dozens of shards that had once created a life, the reason behind the tidal wave stood out in his mind. It had blown through him. Amazed him that one person could break apart a life so thoroughly that it could never be repaired. There was no way of picking up the pieces, the thousands of shards that littered the ground like broken glass and somehow piece them back together like a puzzle. There would be no glue powerful enough to keep the pieces in their once proper place. The damage had been done.
The tidal wave, the forever altering tsunami not only had a name, but a face. A personality. A pair of eyes so blue they could easily rival the sky. A head of hair so blond, so perfectly spiked it had to be some sort of anomaly. A smile, so rare, so perfect on those pink pouting lips that he would have given anything, his entire life, to see it. It had been both a stroke of luck and also of misfortune the day he had stumbled upon the struggling young cadet. One who had the same determined look in his eye that he himself had once had. One that he could not only relate with but appreciate. At that moment, the pupil had become the mentor, and a new generation had begun.
He relished in having someone to teach his set of principles to. Someone who would see things the way he saw them. One who would see the world's imperfections not with a blind eye, or with a mind set on the fact that there was nothing that could be done. He saw them eyes wide, and open, drinking in the sights. The beauty along with the problems that plagued their world. He would sit for hours trying to come up with ways to help the less fortunate. He was, in every way, the perfect counterpart to the older of the pair. No, he was perfect, in every way.
The words love and caring never came up during their talks. It was never discussed that they would one day end up as so much more then friends. It had never been explained that the things they felt towards one another were natural, or that they should ever be accepted by the other party. It was all to foriegn, all so against the set of principles he lived by.
What he did now, he did for duty. He did because he had to. Because the warning had come, and he had to heed it. He would not allow for everything he had worked so hard for, everything he had built, to come tumbling down around him a second time. He would not allow his young lover to be ripped apart by the lions who called them selves rightgious simply because they had a different set, a better set, a more holy set in their highly regarded opinions, then the two of them did. No, it was better to walk away before anyone else was allowed to get hurt.
He wasn't expecting the reaction that came. He wasn't expecting the tears and the surrow. The begging that came from the younger blond. The ideas, the crazy, wild ideas to leave. Just leave. To run away together. To find some where they could live free. Some where they could live together without fear of riducule or rejection. Without fear of what others would say or think of them. Of what they could do to them because they didn't accept the way they chose to think and live. It was an impossible dream, one that they could obtain if only they were willing to try, the blond would plead. If they believed in each other and the things they felt for each other, they could acheive anything.
Saying no, tearing those hopes and dreams apart. Ripping them to shreds was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. He hadn't lived his entire life to have his plans, the ones he had fought so hard to make and keep, to have the path he had earned the right to walk on end here. It was his duty, to himself and to the world he had sworn to protect to deny his own wants and feelings. To deny a chance at love that would only come once, and would be gone all to quickly.
They would find another way. There was always another way in his world. Always. There was always a way to work with in that set of principles. His set of principles. The one his father had given him so long ago. They would find another way. That was all there was to it. Running away would gain them nothing and solve nothing.
The life that had once been left beyond repair was about to be restored to him. With a simple look, a shake of the head, and a single word, the life he had been leading up until that point, was over. It had been a dream, nothing more. The only one he would never be able to fully achieve. The dream walked out of the heavy wooden door, closing it quietly, leaving him to his own thoughts. The perfect opportunity to realize his real potential, his real ambitions, his real hopes and dreams had gone with the beautiful blond. Never to return.
He would return to the duty he had been trained for. The one he had lived by for so long. He would return to the set of principles he had learned and loved before. The same one he had almost given up on. The man who had loved the beautiful young blonde was gone, dead and buried, and in his place he had left nothing but a cold, empty shell. Clinging to a duty, to a dream, to a hope, that meant nothing to him.