Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7
Surrounded by Death
0 reviewsRating due to violence Yuffie discusses her past, which, contrary to her team's belief, was not filled with butterflies and rainbows, and the nightmares that haunt her. Oneshot.
1Insightful
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fanfic for they belong to the great SquarEnix Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fanfic for they belong to the great SquarEnix.
Everyone always treats me like the little, innocent one. They talk about how "adorable" my trying to save my country from being a tourist trap is and how "lucky" I am to still have my father. I'm not that lucky.
I was born during a war between my country and the Shin-Ra, and I was always taught to be independent, opinionated, strong, and proud of my country. I had a mother, brother, and father, and, despite the battles, blood and death all around, we were still a family and still had each other to lean on. Then, it happened. I was only six, but I remember it as clearly as I remember Aerith's death.
The Shin-Ra forces invaded capital, killed thousands of brave Wutai soldiers, and destroyed large chunks of the sacred Da-Chao before marching towards the ruler's house. Our house. They burst into my parents' room and caught Mother, my brother, and I as we were packing so to get away and give Wuati a chance of rebelling in the future. Their attempt at catching us off guard failed though, since Mother spun around, her shuriken drawn, as soon as they entered, and she lunged at them.
And they shot her. They didn't give her a chance to actually fight and die honorably, no, they just decided she was too weak to even bother challenging and killed her. I heard my father enter the room, and I realized that he was not going to try and avenge Mother. So I did.
I picked up Mother's shuriken and hurled it towards the Shin-Ra with all my might; when it stabbed the commander in the leg, he turned to his men to order my death. As I stood there, trembling at the thought of what was about to happen, my brother stepped forward.
He may have only been fourteen, but his decision and knowledge made him seem so much older. He said that as long as they only occupied the country, with the government staying the same, and they harmed neither me nor Father, he would go with them and fight on their side, or what ever else they wished to do with him. The accepted, naturally; strong Wutai warriors willing to train and fight for Shin-Ra were impossible to find. After the Shin-Ra left with my brother, I had to look on as Father fall to the ground and weep over his dead wife and lost son. He lost his will to live that day.
At age six, I lost my mother, my father, my brother, and my country. I grew up in a country, once vibrant with customs, traditions, and people, now filled with gaudy theme restaurants and hotels. The most sacred places were turned into photo ops for the tourists, and my people became animals in a zoo. Worst of all, our beloved Pagoda, the most important part of our training to become ninjas like our ancestors, was turned into "our natural habitat" or something, I remember some ugly guy in a tacky shirt saying so.
That wasn't the way it was supposed to be, I knew that much. All I wanted was to free my country and have a family again. So, naturally, when I was old enough, I set out on a journey to find a way to release my country from Shin-Ra's tyranny and bring my brother back home. Then I met AVALANCHE. If I had known what I was getting myself into, I never would have joined them. Then, I could sleep at night, without being haunted by those horrid nightmares. Every night....
We're/ all back in the City of the Ancients at the prayer site, and Aeris is there, alive. Everything's in black and white, and the events of that night are happening again. Cloud tries to kill her, but Tifa and I stop him. Then, the demon comes flying down towards our friend and stabs her as he did before. With a splash of blood, everything turns to color, and suddenly Sephiroth isn't there. I am. My shuriken stands upright in her back, and my hands are stained a disgusting color of red. Their glares burn my eyes and I turn around, only to face Sephiroth. Everything else fades away into nothingness, and he stands there, smirking./
"Murderer." I see my mother, my father, Aeris, and the rest of AVALANCHE approaching me.
"No, no, it was him, him! HE did all this, not me!" I try and say, but to no avail. Even Aeris's eyes have turned hard and cold, filled to the brim with pure hatred. The monster still grins. I cannot escape. They are all ready to kill me in cold blood and without guilt. I fall to the floor and begin to weep as my final moment draws near, but then, when I should feel the pain of a thousand swords, nothing happens.
I lower my hands from my eyes and see that someone has taken my place in death. My brother. Once again he saves me from suffering and misery by taking such upon himself and becoming my enemy. He knew. The whole time we fought against eachother he knew. Tears cascade down my cheeks as I shout out that they killed him for a crime he did not commit. He gave his life for his enemy. And they all turn away as I wake.
My cheeks are wet with tears and the rest of me with sweat. I never knew. If I had, I would have done something; I would have saved him. Brother....
Tseng.
AN: I think I wrote this...three years ago? Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, everyone kept babbling about how Tseng was from Wutai, and then the wheels started to turn and....yeah. Well, I hope you enjoyed it and that maybe, just maybe, you'll consider telling me what you think. Please? Oh well, have a nice day. Oh, and please, no flames. Please.
-Arsenic
Everyone always treats me like the little, innocent one. They talk about how "adorable" my trying to save my country from being a tourist trap is and how "lucky" I am to still have my father. I'm not that lucky.
I was born during a war between my country and the Shin-Ra, and I was always taught to be independent, opinionated, strong, and proud of my country. I had a mother, brother, and father, and, despite the battles, blood and death all around, we were still a family and still had each other to lean on. Then, it happened. I was only six, but I remember it as clearly as I remember Aerith's death.
The Shin-Ra forces invaded capital, killed thousands of brave Wutai soldiers, and destroyed large chunks of the sacred Da-Chao before marching towards the ruler's house. Our house. They burst into my parents' room and caught Mother, my brother, and I as we were packing so to get away and give Wuati a chance of rebelling in the future. Their attempt at catching us off guard failed though, since Mother spun around, her shuriken drawn, as soon as they entered, and she lunged at them.
And they shot her. They didn't give her a chance to actually fight and die honorably, no, they just decided she was too weak to even bother challenging and killed her. I heard my father enter the room, and I realized that he was not going to try and avenge Mother. So I did.
I picked up Mother's shuriken and hurled it towards the Shin-Ra with all my might; when it stabbed the commander in the leg, he turned to his men to order my death. As I stood there, trembling at the thought of what was about to happen, my brother stepped forward.
He may have only been fourteen, but his decision and knowledge made him seem so much older. He said that as long as they only occupied the country, with the government staying the same, and they harmed neither me nor Father, he would go with them and fight on their side, or what ever else they wished to do with him. The accepted, naturally; strong Wutai warriors willing to train and fight for Shin-Ra were impossible to find. After the Shin-Ra left with my brother, I had to look on as Father fall to the ground and weep over his dead wife and lost son. He lost his will to live that day.
At age six, I lost my mother, my father, my brother, and my country. I grew up in a country, once vibrant with customs, traditions, and people, now filled with gaudy theme restaurants and hotels. The most sacred places were turned into photo ops for the tourists, and my people became animals in a zoo. Worst of all, our beloved Pagoda, the most important part of our training to become ninjas like our ancestors, was turned into "our natural habitat" or something, I remember some ugly guy in a tacky shirt saying so.
That wasn't the way it was supposed to be, I knew that much. All I wanted was to free my country and have a family again. So, naturally, when I was old enough, I set out on a journey to find a way to release my country from Shin-Ra's tyranny and bring my brother back home. Then I met AVALANCHE. If I had known what I was getting myself into, I never would have joined them. Then, I could sleep at night, without being haunted by those horrid nightmares. Every night....
We're/ all back in the City of the Ancients at the prayer site, and Aeris is there, alive. Everything's in black and white, and the events of that night are happening again. Cloud tries to kill her, but Tifa and I stop him. Then, the demon comes flying down towards our friend and stabs her as he did before. With a splash of blood, everything turns to color, and suddenly Sephiroth isn't there. I am. My shuriken stands upright in her back, and my hands are stained a disgusting color of red. Their glares burn my eyes and I turn around, only to face Sephiroth. Everything else fades away into nothingness, and he stands there, smirking./
"Murderer." I see my mother, my father, Aeris, and the rest of AVALANCHE approaching me.
"No, no, it was him, him! HE did all this, not me!" I try and say, but to no avail. Even Aeris's eyes have turned hard and cold, filled to the brim with pure hatred. The monster still grins. I cannot escape. They are all ready to kill me in cold blood and without guilt. I fall to the floor and begin to weep as my final moment draws near, but then, when I should feel the pain of a thousand swords, nothing happens.
I lower my hands from my eyes and see that someone has taken my place in death. My brother. Once again he saves me from suffering and misery by taking such upon himself and becoming my enemy. He knew. The whole time we fought against eachother he knew. Tears cascade down my cheeks as I shout out that they killed him for a crime he did not commit. He gave his life for his enemy. And they all turn away as I wake.
My cheeks are wet with tears and the rest of me with sweat. I never knew. If I had, I would have done something; I would have saved him. Brother....
Tseng.
AN: I think I wrote this...three years ago? Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, everyone kept babbling about how Tseng was from Wutai, and then the wheels started to turn and....yeah. Well, I hope you enjoyed it and that maybe, just maybe, you'll consider telling me what you think. Please? Oh well, have a nice day. Oh, and please, no flames. Please.
-Arsenic
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